He touches everything with his dark magic. The rooms aren’t so dimly lit now, there are lamps casting a sultry golden glow. The old furniture is back and things are shiny again. Glittering more brightly, like they did before the dusty veneer of sadness coated the hotel and everything in it.
Including me.
But I’m not sad now.
He’s here, in my room with me.
He’s touching me with those strong, tattooed hands.
There.
Oh.
Oh.
His magic feels more beautiful than anything ever has. Licks of wild pleasure build and grow and bloom and overflow, until the rapture overwhelms me and I fall fall fall.
12
My body clenches in a lush,spasming rhythm that feels so insanely good it slowly, serenely … wakes me up.
Holy shit.
I don’t want to wake up.
I’m floating.
I’m coming.
I’m dreaming.
Of him.
That man who sat at the bar last night for hours, just watching me.
Dallas, he said his name was.
I want to sink back into the deep-dark pleasure, but it’s fading now. I lay mostly still, letting the ripples lap at the lingering bliss.
Oh my god.
I just had my first orgasm.
In my sleep.
Dreaming about him.
My eyes blink open.
I’m in my dingy little room. All the shininess is gone.
It’s barely dawn.
I need to get up. I have to start my shift at six and I always make sure I’m up before anyone else is. The laundry room is nearby and some of the housekeeping staff start early. I don’t want my secret to be discovered. If that witchy manager ever found out?—
I push that thought out of my mind.
I don’t want to think about that. Not yet.
