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All empty.
“What the fuck?”
I stalk back into the bedroom and survey it again. My eyes land on a small piece of paper sitting on the pillow where she's laid her head the last few days when we weren't fucking every which way on every other surface of the suite.
Shit.
Acid churns in my stomach as I rush over and pick it up with a shaky hand.
THAT WAS FUN! – Jack
“Fuck.”
She’s gone.
I let the note flutter to the bed and drop my hand on the sheets where she fell asleep only a few hours ago. Not fully cold yet. She couldn't have left that long ago. There’s still time to catch her.
God willing.
I scramble around the bed and grab the hotel phone to dial the concierge desk.
“Palmer House concierge, this is Austin. How can I help you?”
Shit.
This would be a hell of a lot less awkward if Chris were manning the desk. At least he knows me and wouldn’t balk at my request.
“Hi. My girlfriend just left our room and forgot something she needs for the day. She's not answering her cell phone. Would you be able to tell me if you saw her leave yet or if she's still down there in the lobby?”
“Oh, certainly, sir.” The phone jostles slightly, like he’s moving. “Can you describe her?”
Fuck if I can’t.
Her face. Her hair. Her body.
Everything about her has been seared into my memories.
Branded there.
Something I'll never be able to forget even if I tried.
“About five-three. Curvy. Long red hair. Wearing a black dress with an open back and heels.”
“Oh, yes, sir. She came down a few moments ago.”
Relief floods my chest. “Is she still here?”
“I’m uncertain, sir. I don't see her from where I am, but as you know, we have quite a large lobby.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
All that hope vanishes in a millisecond, replaced by a sense of doom that makes it almost impossible to take a breath. “I'm on my way down. Can you go check the rest of the lobby, and if you see her, stop her?”
“I'll see what I can do, sir.”
I drop the phone into the cradle and race to my pants and shirt, where they still lie strewn on the floor of the living room from the first night we spent here. The scent of her perfume and cum still lingers on the fabric, filling my lungs while I jerk on my pants, tug up the zipper, and throw my arms into my shirt sleeves. There isn’t any time to worry about how disheveled I might look, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone might think of me as I rush out the door, not even bothering with shoes.
Time isn’t on my side. Apparently, neither is fate. To dangle a woman like Jack in front of me and then steal her away without so much as a chance.
