Page 31 of Aldo

“The night is over,” I reminded him.

“And a new day has started.” He reached over and poured us coffee. “Maybe we should talk about that.”

I took the cup from his hand, our fingers brushing, our eyes locking. I felt a flutter in my stomach at his touch.

“Maybe we should.”

He nodded. “Eat first. You’re going to need it.”

I didn’t leave the hotel room that day. In fact, I didn’t leave until it was time for my shift the following night. Aldo dropped by the room frequently. We had sex sometimes. Others, he sat and talked to me. We ate dinner together. He even got into the bath with me, although I had to promise him a blow job to do so. Once I made the offer, he couldn’t get out of his suit fast enough, which made me laugh. He pretended to get angry and grabbed me, kissing me hard, and I slipped down into the water, taking him with me. Bubbles and water went everywhere, and he looked askance at the mess, then decided it didn’t matter when I wrapped my hand around his hard cock and stroked him. He sat on the edge of the large tub as I sucked him, watching me the whole time, groaning and encouraging me. After I was done, he did the same for me, and I saw why he was so fascinated. The floor-to-ceiling mirror on the other end of the tub reflected his strong back muscles as he surged forward. My legs over his shoulders and the way his back moved were hypnotic. Looking down to see his face buried between my legs was erotic. His eyes were on me, and our gazes were as hot as the space around us. The steam-filled room was full of our noises. The sounds of the water splashing, the mist gathering on the edges of the mirror, his large hands clamped around my thighs. All of it was sexy, intimate, and raw.

I headed down to my shift, trying not to feel sad as I shut the door behind me. My two days of Aldo were over. When he’d left earlier, he had kissed me the same way he had when I’d come out of the shower, my face trapped between his hands, his caress tender, his goodbye unspoken. I had smiled at him, refusing to allow him to see my distress. I had thought once we were together, that intense pull I felt toward him would stop.

It had, in fact, gotten stronger.

But I knew the rules. Aldo had already bent them, giving me extra time. He hadn’t said anything about seeing me again, simply telling me to hang in the suite as long as I wanted before heading to work. When he left, I stared at the door, my heart aching a little. I had a feeling falling for him would be easy. Natural. Like breathing.

But he had made it clear, he wasn’t interested in anything beyond this room.

And I had told him I was a big girl and could handle it. And that was exactly what I intended to do.

I finished my shift and headed to my car. I hadn’t eaten much, my appetite off. My apartment looked blah and dreary after the luxury of the hotel room. The bathroom seemed even smaller than before, and I already missed that large tub. I showered and sat on the sofa, a glass of water in my hand. I decided on my next day off I would go buy a bed. The sofa was going to feel cramped and lonely tonight. I was already dreading it.

I shook my head in exasperation. I had only slept beside him for two nights. Less, if I counted the times he would slip from the bed, dress, and head down to solve a problem. But I knew he was coming back. And I also knew, when he did, he would wake me with his mouth on my skin and take me again.

I shivered thinking about it. Recalling how it felt being with him. His possession and the way he used my body. The pleasure he took and gave. The unexpected tenderness he showed. His thoughtful gestures. His insistence there was no room in his life for a relationship, yet when we were together, that was how he acted.

As if we were together.

He fussed. Worried. Cared. Took. Gave. Then he walked out.

He was an enigma.

I shut my eyes and curled up on the sofa.

I wished he were my enigma.

I was dragging my feet by the time my shift ended the next night. I had barely slept, and the deli was busy all evening. I didn’t even get a break. I opened my locker, stopping at the sight of the small envelope waiting for me.

2301.

Come to me.

The short directive was written in Aldo’s bold, dark script. I picked up the envelope and opened it. It contained the passcard needed to get to that floor and let me into the room. I leaned my head on the metal door, knowing I had two choices. Go upstairs and let him fuck me, or head home and end this. I knew if I didn’t show up, he wouldn’t reach out again. If I was honest, I wanted to feel him again, but I didn’t want to be his booty call.

And I was so tired.

I decided I had a third choice. I could go up and tell him. Be honest. Surely he would understand I was too exhausted to play tonight.

I was nervous heading up in the elevator, grateful to be the only occupant. I hesitated at the door, then swiped the card and walked in. Aldo wasn’t there, the room empty. I looked around, curious. The room was even more decadent than the suite we’d been in before. And it felt different—almost personal. I inhaled, realizing I could smell Aldo. His scent hung in the air, saturating the room. Not as if he’d just walked through it, but as if he were part of the room. I set down my bag and looked around. This wasn’t a random room he’d procured for the night. This was his personal suite. Some of his suits hung in the closet. A damp towel was flung over the bathroom door, and his toiletries were in the drawers. There were a few casual clothes in the dresser. A deep black robe was tossed over the back of a chair, and I realized it matched the chair in my apartment—only larger. The small bar area held coffee pods, and unable to resist, I opened the small fridge. It was filled with water and a bag of apples.

I blinked as I looked around. He’d brought me to his private place.

Why?

The door opened, and he strode in, stopping when he saw me. For a moment, neither of us said a word. Then he crossed the room, cupping my face and pulling me into a hard, deep kiss.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”