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"You make it sound creepy."
She tilts her head to look at me.
"I'm not being creepy."
"I know," she says. "For now."
I roll my eyes. I don't want to engage her in this. "Are you okay?"
She shrugs. "It's just an earthquake. I've been on more exciting roller coasters."
"The electricity is probably going to take a while to get back, so I think I'm going to go back to my room," I reply. "I'm going to kick back and relax. It might help me sleep. Good night, Londyn."
She says something, but I don't hear her. The elevators are out of order so I make my way up the stairs until I get to my room. It's only six floors but I'm tired so by the time I get to my room, I'm winded. For a second, I wonder if the keycard entry is going to be affected by the lack of electricity, but when I press on the handle, the door opens. The room is nice and cool and blessedly quiet. I grab my phone, turn it off, and then make my way to bed. I kick my shoes off, take off my shirt, take off my jeans and lie on top of the nice, comfortable duvet. I look at the popcorn ceiling and tell myself that I need to have a shower before I fall asleep but I'm so stressed and wound up that I don't think it's going to happen.
I need to relax.
Whenever I close my eyes, my mind drifts to Alana again. She was wearing this tiny sparkling silver dress that hugged all her curves. I can't get her off my mind, particularly the way her hips swayed back and forth as she walked. I'm not a creep, but it's hard to look at anything but her when she's around, and those long legs, and the way her neck looks when she swallows…
Even though my phone is on the other side of the room, I need to relax.
For a second, my head hurts. Then I close my eyes and think about Alana's eyes again, at the way her brown eyes sparkled when she looked at me. I think about the way her lips part when she hears something funny, the way she throws her head back when she laughs. My hand finds its way to the waistband of my boxers and I think about pressing my mouth to the hollow of her neck until she smiles. I imagine her body pressed against mine, my hand slung around her waist.
I imagine her saying my name, sugar on her lips.
Javi.
She tilts her head up to look at me and I press my lips against hers. She kisses me back hungrily, her hands against my chest.
She pulls away from me for a few seconds, her hands curling around the fabric of my shirt. She's so close I can smell the alcohol on her breath. She casts her gaze down and her eyelashes are so long they practically tickle my skin. My hand wrapped around my cock, I start thinking about what it would be like to nibble on her lower lip, to slide my lips down toward her chin and then down the length of her neck. I want to push her against the wall and drop down to my knees and slide her underwear down with my teeth…
I look up—in my fantasy, not in real life—and I notice that the setting around us has changed. It's pitch black in here and the room is small, the air stale. She still smells amazing, like lavender and liquor, and she's all I can think about when I drop to my knees and the floor shakes under me. She knots her fingers in my hair and I look up at her, the only light spilling in from somewhere outside. She looks stunning, but something about this strikes me as…wrong.
"Are you okay?" I hear myself ask her.
Her grip around my hair tightens and she pushes me away from her. I can suddenly see her face clear as day, even though we're still somewhere pitch black, and I can't see a fucking thing other than the urgent expression drawn across her pretty features. "We're going to fall," she says.
"What?" I ask her.
"If you don't do something, we're going to fall," she repeats, her voice shaky.
I have no idea what she's talking about. My eyes shoot open and I look at the popcorn ceiling again, but I can't get her words out of my head. I mean, that was more than just some…weird fantasy, right? It felt like it took on a life on its own. Almost like a vision.
But that's ridiculous. Because visions aren't real, and anyway, I've never had a vision before. But I've never lost control of my daydreams, particularly not when I'm touching myself. So that's definitely a new and slightly disturbing feeling. One I don't like at all. I feel anxious. It's more than just the disquieted sort of anxiety I had before, it's more verging on fear. And I don't know what to do.
The hotel is still pitch black. Normally, at this point, there would've been aftershocks, but the hotel is perfectly still and the electricity hasn't come back.
Something tells me I need to go check on Alana. I don't want to be a creep, like Londyn said, but…I don't know. I've always allowed myself to be guided by instinct.
And it has clearly, obviously, worked.
Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen? I don’t want to get up, but I force myself to get dressed again and grab my phone from the desk. I can call Londyn without even looking at my phone.
“Hello?” she asks.
“Okay. Before you say anything, I need you to find Alana, alright?”
There’s a moment where she seems to think before she answers. “Fine,” she says. “But I can’t promise anything.”
