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Brodie
What an evening. A beautiful night with a gorgeous woman, delicious food and wine. And I’d fucked her senseless.
Or should I say she fucked me senseless? She was the one who’d taken control, after all.
Which was fine by me. In fact, thinking about it even now gave me a raging hard-on. There was nothing like a woman taking over, and knowing she wants you more than anything. Christ almighty.
I got to the hotel extra-early Saturday morning since I’d taken off early Friday. I didn’t have any calls or texts, and no news was always good news, but I liked to keep an eye on things over the weekend.
And I had been feeling particularly protective of the hotel since I’d found out my partners were up to no good.
When I arrived, I went straight to Joel’s office. Before I entered, I knocked. The last thing I wanted was to walk in on him fucking Pam. If they were still doing each other. Which they’d better not be.
“Come in!” Joel called. “Brodie, where were you last night? I can’t remember the last time you missed a Friday here.”
“I had other plans,” I answered.
He broke out in a huge grin. “Dude. You dating somebody? Who is she? Tell me.”
He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
I took the seat opposite his desk. “Her name is Nara.” He didn’t need to know any more than that.
He held his hands out, palms up. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me? Brodie, you’re killing me.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Okay. Okay, buddy, I get it. Let’s go over the weekend.” He flipped a few papers around on his desk and pulled something up on his computer.
“Do we have any VIPs coming in, Joel?”
“We do. Last night was quiet, celebrity-wise. But tonight, we have Aerosmith coming in. They have a show at the Garden.”
Shit, I wish I’d known about that. I’d have gotten tickets. One of the perks of being a hotelier was easy access to backstage passes.
“Oh, one other thing. I almost forgot. The annual Spinsters party is on tonight.”
“Oh damn, I nearly forgot about that one. I may go. What about you?” I asked.
He nodded slowly. “I might. Not sure yet. May have plans.” He looked up at me guiltily.
“Oh for chrissakes. Are you still doing Pam? Wait, never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m leaving right now.”
“Okay, Brodie, thanks for stopping by—”
Who was I to say anything? I mean I’d messed around with chicks at work before, the most recent being Sonya. Joel could do what he wanted. I just didn’t want to know about it and I didn’t want him doing it in my penthouse suite.
I went to my office and texted Nara.
hey gorgeous. up for a party tonight?
I wasn’t sure if she’d respond right away. Given that she was at work, she could be up to her elbows in baby shit.
that sounds great. when and where? and what to wear?
i’ll pick you up at eight. dress sexy. like always.
:O
I was on my game. And that seriously felt good.
* * *
I drove my Telsa to Brooklyn to get Nara since the limo driver had the weekend off. When I pulled up to her place she walked out, wearing this long slinky number tied behind her neck, plunging into a deep V below her gorgeous breasts. She wore some sort of high-heeled sandals, and her hair was long and loose. I sprang a hard-on so big I almost couldn’t get out of the car. I buttoned my sports jacket to cover the evidence and grabbed her hand as she descended the last steps of her building.
“Yowsa,” I said, greeting her on the sidewalk with a long, slow kiss.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Hotel.”
“Thanks, Miss Happy.”
We walked to my car, and she stopped, hands on hips. “No way. Are you actually driving? Like driving a car? With four wheels?”
I rolled my eyes. “Believe it or not, yes. The driver’s off for the weekend. Besides, I kind of miss being behind the wheel.”
I helped her into the car, and we headed back toward the hotel.
She had her hand on my thigh as we worked our way over the Brooklyn Bridge and back to the city. Thanks to her, my hard-on raged the whole drive. That would need addressing later.
The Spinsters’ party was held every year in our biggest ballroom, and let me tell you, I always looked forward to this shindig, which was full of New York’s most beautiful women.
I’m not sure why they called themselves The Spinsters since they were anything but. The only thing they had in common with old maids was that they were mostly unmarried.
I said mostly, because the party was such a hot ticket that some women would lie about their marital status to get in. Couldn’t say I blamed them. It was one of the city’s biggest social events.
On top of providing serious eye candy, this group hired the best party planners in town, and this year’s setup did not disappoint. When Nara and I walked in we were left speechless, so blown away we were by the décor.
It amazed me what people could do with a hotel ballroom, even when it was in my own hotel.
There were intimate seating areas set up all along the periphery of the room.
White sofas, loveseats, and benches were clustered around tables lit by flickering votive candles, that held buckets full of champagne, and platters of hors d'oeuvres.
It was like a dozen private little clubs.
And as if that weren’t enough, special lighting made glittery reflections across the floor, up the walls, and over the ceiling. The effect was like being under water.
“Wow.” Nara slowly took in the dramatic setting.
I put my arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
