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God, what the hell have I agreed to. I knew this week would be hard as hell, but not like this.
Taking a deep breath, I start telling myself I can do this. Surely I’m dramatic enough in day-to-day life that I can play this part like it’s a role in a movie.
Yes, I can do that. Pretend I’m not the real me. Because I’ve got a life plan, and it does not involve falling for him!
“Excuse me a moment, I need to use the bathroom,” I say, standing and trying to put distance between me and the man who is making me all confused.
“Certainly, it’s down that small hallway and the first door on the right.” Nic also stands and points me in the right direction.
I walk quickly, and it’s not because I actually need to use the bathroom; it’s because I need to pull myself together. My breathing is more rapid than normal, and my heart is racing. It’s what his touch has done to me.
Stepping into a bathroom that’s big enough to be a bedroom, I close the door and lean against it, closing my eyes. I just concentrate on breathing, which sounds crazy because we breathe without thinking about it, but right now, I need to focus on something, and breathing seems like the perfect thing.
Why did I say yes to that? How am I going to keep myself from saying all the stupid things that fall from my mouth on a regular basis? That’s what people my age do! We aren’t expected to be all sophisticated and look like we have our life together, because I’m so far from that.
Like anyone is going to believe that I am even girlfriend material for this super-wealthy, sexy-as-sin man. He is always dressed impeccably, knows all the right things to do and say, and probably fucks like a sex god. Oh man, seriously, Tori, pull yourself together. Nic didn’t offer up his cock for the week, so stop thinking about having sex with him. There is no question that sex with him would be out of this world. I mean, just look at him. But all he’s asking from you is to go out there, smile, hold his hand, and suffer a few kisses on the cheek. Now, if that’s what suffering is, then I’m all for it.
I’m not sure how long I have been standing here for, but I need to get back out to Nic. He’ll think I’ve fallen in. I’m sure he already thinks I’m a ditz, I don’t need to prove he’s right. I flush the toilet and run the tap so he doesn’t think I have been hiding out in here, which I totally have, but he doesn’t need to know that. Standing at the sink, I finally register this bathroom I’m standing in.
Holy shit!
This is obviously what people with money expect. So much gold, it’s everywhere. Taps, towel rack, lights, everything is just dripping with money. It’s all heavy cream Italian marble that oozes high class. The shower is a walk-in and big enough you could have a party in there. Which is totally not my thing, but hey, for some it is. I walk into it and run my hand along the glass wall. If this is his regular room, then he has stood here naked before. My mind is already drifting off to being pinned to this glass wall while his mouth devours my neck and his hands roam all over my wet body.
“Fuck. You need to get out of here, Tori.” Straightening myself in the mirror, I open the door as I hear him hanging up the phone in the room.
“Hey, I have ordered us some lunch. I hope you don’t have any allergies.”
My head is spinning from the change of thoughts. “Umm, no,” I manage to say and sound half intelligent.
“Great, I ordered a mixture of things, so at least there will be something you like. Antipasto, bruschetta, pizza, and of course, some tiramisu and cannoli for dessert.” I look at him with confusion about how much food he has ordered. We aren’t feeding a football team.
“Of course, you can order something else if you don’t want any of that.”
“No, sorry, I love Italian food—well, food in general. I was just surprised at how much you ordered.” Walking over to the window, I look out onto a stunning courtyard. It looks like the hotel is a square shape and the courtyard is the center beauty. Metal tables and chairs are scattered around, and there are vines growing all over the various trellises to give ambience.
“I wanted to make sure you had choices, and I like to test a variety of dishes while I’m in my hotel to make sure everything is still up to my standard.” I feel him close behind me.
“Which is high, I bet,” I say, smirking while I’m still facing away from him.
“The highest. I won’t accept anything less than the most alluring beauty and flavor.” His voice is close enough now that I can feel the air on my neck, his chest touching my back ever so faintly. “I won’t take second best.”
“You can afford to be picky,” I say, trying to keep my voice from quavering.
“It’s been worth it.” The air from his breath is tingling my ear, and I know his lips aren’t far from touching me. I don’t know what his cologne is, but it makes me weak at the knees. It’s strong and masculine, with just the tiniest hint of sweetness to it. It’s been imprinted on me for days, ever since he wrapped me in his blanket to sleep in on Friday night. It calms me and heats me up at the same time. A potent combination.
Just as my brain starts to misfire and I know I’m about to do something I’ll regret, like leaning back into his touch, there is a loud knock at the door, and Nic is gone. Which leaves me panting at the window, knowing that there is no way I will be able to survive this week without buying more underwear. Because I have a feeling mine will be continually wet while I’m around him.
Needing a few more moments, I just keep taking in the view until I hear the door close, then I turn and see the waiter has left a beautiful spread of food on the table. It’s almost like my nose leads me to the table with the aroma of the dishes smelling so enticing.
“Nicholas, we are never going to be able to eat all this,” I scold. His laughter as he pours us both a glass of water is infectious. I start to laugh with him.
“You sound like my mother. She uses my full name when I’m in trouble.” He might be a hard-ass, but you can tell he loves his mother by the way he smiles when talking about her.
“What makes you think you aren’t in trouble now?” I ask, taking an olive off the platter, popping it into my mouth.
“Oh, I know I am.” He digs his finger into some of the cream in the cannoli and then lifts it to his mouth, his lips wrapping around it and sucking it ever so slowly. This man has gone from zero to one hundred on the flirting scale, and I’m down for it. Nothing to say I can’t enjoy some flirting, if we are both strong enough not to take it any further.
“And yet you are starting with dessert. You really are a naughty boy, aren’t you.” I take a seat where he has placed my plate and watch him nearly choke on his finger.
