Page 64 of Tell Me Something

We walked back to the hotel in silence and then took the elevator up to the hotel suites. “Do you want me to order room service?” I inquired as we went through his hotel room door.

“Sure, that’s fine.” Terse, he didn’t offer any further guidance.

Most girls might have taken his abrupt mood personally. But having witnessed a portion of how his day had gone, I didn’t blame him for being irritable. Plus, we were still in business mode. Compared to Warren’s moods, Josh’s were pretty easy to anticipate.

Calling down for a couple of burgers with fries, I threw some chocolate chip cookies into the order, too, because why the hell not?

In my room, I quickly changed into my jeans and sweatshirt, happy to take my hair down and remove my makeup.

A short time later, Josh walked in from his adjoining room with the tray full of food. I was on the phone with Nigel, catching up on the coming week’s schedule. I hadn’t even heard room service knock with the delivery.

“Right, Nigel, I’ll ask him. Talk to you tomorrow.” I hung up and looked toward Josh.

“Ask me what?” He lifted the lids from the burgers and glanced over at me with an expression that let me know what he thought of my meal choice.

I shrugged. “What? You had a long, bad day, and you probably shouldn’t leave the ordering up to a woman who’s hormonal if you want a salad.”

Well, that got him. He laughed out loud. “Fair enough.”

He set the tray on the small table, and we both dug in. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Nigel asked if you wanted him to make your travel arrangements for Thanksgiving. It’s next Thursday.” Nigel had also mentioned that last year Josh’s mom and brother had come into New York, the year prior Vegas. Josh clearly spent the time with his family; it was just a matter of where that time would be this year.

Judging by the annoyed look on his face, however, deciding this wasn’t high on his priorities. Or he didn’t want to discuss holiday plans with me particularly.

“I don’t know. It’s a week away.”

“I know. I mean, imagine two assistants trying to plan a whole week ahead of time—it’s crazy.”

He paused in chewing his food, arching a brow. “Are you being sassy, Ms. Holloway?”

Holy hell, the way he said that spiked my libido instantly. I not-so-innocently dipped my fry in ketchup and sucked it off while watching his eyes darken. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Singer,” I retorted, batting my eyelashes.

He reached across the small table and wiped the ketchup from the side of my mouth.

I took the opportunity to take his finger and suck it gently, getting satisfaction out of his breath catching.

“You need to get some sleep,” he suggested regretfully.

He was always concerned about me getting enough rest. It occurred to me there must be a reason behind it. “Why are you always so worried about my sleep? It comes from somewhere.”

He sighed and then was surprisingly open. “I’m an insomniac most nights. At one point in my twenties, I wasn’t aware of how that made me push people. I had Mark up all night on a deal, and he fell asleep driving home. He was fine, luckily; the car wasn’t. It was an important lesson for me to pay attention and ensure that no one else I cared about got put in jeopardy because I didn’t allow them to get enough rest.”

I was speechless and caressed his face to show my gratitude for this confidence. “Thank you for sharing that.”

“So, you should probably get to bed.”

“I can always sleep on the plane.” Then, before he could protest, I was down on my knees, undoing his belt and freeing him.

“I don’t know what in this lifetime I did to deserve this, but I’ll take it,” he mumbled.

Smiling, I licked the pre-cum from his tip, enjoying his sounds of pleasure.

“Ahh, Christ… how long do your periods last?”

I paused and tried not to be embarrassed by his frankness. “About four to five days, I guess. Why?” I went back to licking his shaft from base to tip.

He groaned. “Because I want to be inside you. I want to make you come.”