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I woke after a decent and fulfilling sleep, and as I took a long hot bath, I imagined what the next few hours would hold. I added a Honeymania bath melt to the steaming water that Marjorie, the afternoon manager, had given me for Christmas. The creamy bath melt was apparently made from the nectar of dozens of wildflowers, and I was likely to smell like a florist by the time I finished.
The warm water caressed me, and I imagined it was Brent’s soft hands. Just the thought of my little rendezvous with him made my insides clench. It was a lovely way to while away the minutes, and the water was nearly cold by the time I stepped out.
I took my time transforming into Memphis. I’d begun to experiment with eye shades, and I added a touch of pink to the dark eyeshadow today. Remembering Brent’s red tie, I glided my red Bobbi Brown lipstick over my lips and rubbed them together.
I parted my hair into two long plaits and pinned them to my head. Then I twisted and pinned my annoying bangs back before I fitted my new long, blonde wig and poked the few stragglers left behind up into it. Satisfied I’d hidden all my dark hair, I glanced in the mirror.
It was a strange thing not to recognize my own reflection. I couldn’t decide if it was disturbing or exciting. I frowned at the opposing thoughts.
Frowning didn’t suit Memphis’s adventurous, fun-loving demeanor. I tugged my shoulders back, blew myself a kiss, and smiled.
Better.
At my underwear drawer, I matched my bra and knickers to my red lipstick, and then I rummaged through my wardrobe for an appropriate dress. The French maid costume that I’d already worn too many times was out, as was the black sequined dress that nearly strangled me a few weeks ago.
My wardrobe was well overdue for an overhaul.
After a ridiculous amount of time trying to decide, I removed my bra and stepped into a rose-red, backless halter-neck dress that hugged my waist. The dress was very Marilyn Monroe, with the flowing skirt reaching just above my knees.
I jiggled on my toes, assessing my boob wobble. There were a lot of wobbles. While this was way too risqué for Jane, for Memphis and what she planned to do, it was just fine.
No, not fine; it was fucking sexy.
With my glossy, black Jimmy Choo heels on, I checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked perfect. Finally, I tossed my new packet of condoms into my handbag.
Memphis is ready.
Brent was just one floor up. I didn’t bother with my usual trick, where I went up a few floors before I came back down to his floor. It was a stupid idea anyway.
I exited the elevator, and my boobs jiggled as I strode in my high heels toward his room like it was my own. I knocked on his door, and my insides flipped around as I waited.
He opened the door wearing tan shorts and a white T-shirt that showed off broad shoulders that I’d missed earlier this morning. “Hi.”
“Hello. I was wondering if you could help me.”
Curiosity molded his features. “Sure. What’s up?”
“May I come in?”
He glanced past me, assessing the empty hallway with his dark eyes. Obviously satisfied that I wasn’t out to kill him, he stepped aside, and I walked into his room. He had the balcony doors wide open, allowing fresh ocean breezes to flow into the room. A gust whipped up my skirt, and I clutched the fabric to my side as I strode to his table. As I hooked my bag over the arm of the chair, his door clicked closed.
“So, how can I help?” His voice was cloaked with masculine curiosity.
I twirled a lock of my blonde wig around my finger. “I’m a little horny.” I cringed at how awful that sounded but carried on regardless. “And, well, I was wondering if you’d like some company?”
His eyes flittered about the room as if his brain struggled to process what I’d said. An awkward silence filled the room. “Is this a joke?”
I kick off my right heel. “No joke. And you can just watch me if you prefer. Do you like to watch?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure.” He adjusted his shorts, nudging the bulge already forming in his groin.
I flicked off my other shoe. “Then this is your lucky day.” I lowered my eyes to his groin, letting him know I’d seen his reaction, and he rubbed his palm over his zipper as if forcing his unruly cock to calm down.
I reached up to undo the knot at the back of my neck and paused. “Do you want me to continue? Because I can leave right now if you wish.”
He stood barely four feet away. His body was as rigid as a surfboard, and his eyes drilled into me, probably assessing my sanity. “Umm, yes to continuing, and no to leaving.” He frowned. “What do I do?”
I untied my halter-neck strap, and as I gradually lowered it over my breasts, my nipples hardened. I dropped the straps, so the top half of my dress dangled from my waist. Tingles flitted across my nipples as they peaked.
