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I’m so in the mood and very turned on, but I just can’t switch my brain off. My eyes keep darting subconsciously toward the door, like I’m expecting someone to burst in at any moment.
Stop being stupid and get on with it.
I psych myself up enough to open my bag and lay out my essentials on the bed like I’m a freaking surgeon. Try as I might, I just can’t get the bellboys mortified expression out of my head, so in the end, I toss the toys aside and sprawl out on the bed, because I think the only way anything is going to happen tonight is manually.
The pounding of my heart is quite impressive—but not as distracting as my head, which keeps insisting this is a bad idea. I laugh, because it seems when there’s nobody to do it for me, I’ll just sabotage the situation myself. The last few weeks have been hell. The more relief has eluded me, the more my body has craved it. But now my body knows that this time there’s nothing that can interrupt, I seem to be imploding.
Stop it. You’re doing this, because no is not an option.
You. Can. Do. It.
Great, now I sound like a fucking Nike commercial.
Just then, my phone rings. I laugh. Really? Why the fuck isn’t it on silent?
I fish it out of my bag, all desire flying out of my body when I see Sara’s name on the screen. The only person who could ruin the mood faster would be Mom.
“What?” I snap.
“Jesus, hello to you too.”
“Sorry. Hey Sara. Did you want something?”
“Now you just sound fake,” she complains.
“Because it is fake,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just tell me what you want already.”
“I just wanted to see if I should get dinner organized, or if you were bringing something home, or what.”
“I told you already. I’m out tonight,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but you didn’t say what time you’d be back.” She pauses. “Or what you were doing.”
I laugh. I knew it. She’s just trying to find out what I’m doing. Part of me wants to tell her just to hear her reaction, but luckily, the non-stupid side of me wins out.
“Because it’s none of your business.” I groan. “Order dinner. Don't order dinner. I don't care,” I growl.
“Fine. Excuse me for being considerate enough to call—”
“Considerate?” I laugh. “Nothing you’ve ever done is because you were being considerate.”
“When did you get so nasty?” she mutters. “I’ve done plenty of things for you without expecting anything in return.”
“Yeah? Name one,” I challenge her. “Give me one example of something you did without any benefit for yourself since you’ve been staying with me.” I sigh and close my eyes. I do not need to be having this argument right now. “Look, all I’m saying is do the dishes occasionally or some shopping. Don’t call me and tell me we need milk.”
“Sorry. I didn't realize I had to work to cover my expenses.”
“You don't, but something would be nice,” I say. “Look, just forget about it. We can talk about it later.”
“Fine,” she agrees. “Are you really taking cooking classes?”
“Cooking?” I snort. “Hardly. Where did you get that idea?”
“Soph said you’ve taken an interest in baking.”
“Soph doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” I bark. “Now I really have to go. Bye.”
I hang up before she can get another word in and then I switch my phone off, just to be safe. Satisfied that there will be no more interruptions, I walk back over to the bed and fall into the middle of it. I breathe in deeply, trying to relax myself. It should be a crime to be this tense in such a beautiful hotel. The problem is, I can’t stop the thoughts from churning over in my head. How am I supposed to get in the mood after that conversation?
Fucking Sophie.
I knew she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
I laugh, because here I go again. All I’m doing by being here is wasting my time. I was stupid to think this might work in the first place. I stand up and shove my things into my bag, but as I’m dressing, realize I can’t leave. At least, not without feeling a world of guilt. Lou was nice enough to cover the cost of this amazing room, so the least I can do is try a little bit harder. At the very least, I’ll get a decent night’s sleep for once.
Sighing, I throw myself back down on the bed and close my eyes. My body shivers as I trail my fingers down over my body while I work hard to clear my mind. Eventually, it works and the only thing I’m thinking about is how good the tip of my finger feels as it slides over my clit.
“Oh, fuck me,” I gasp.
