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"Interesting." She smirks. "Well, as long as he's a gentleman outside of the bedroom."
I gasp and she chuckles. "Don't let me being in this hospital trick you into thinking I'm some nun. I'll have you know one of the very first things on my list of things to do the moment I've recovered is have some good sex."
"Just good?" I tease.
"Fucking great sex."
"Oh, Good Lord," Veronica says as she walks in.
I look at Charlotte, trying like hell to hold in my laughter, and see her turning the same beet red color I'm sure I am.
"Oh, don't mind me. " Veronica smiles. "I was young once. I have a tattoo or two in places that you wouldn't believe."
"Well, excuse me." Charlotte chuckles.
"Let's check this temperature, and I'll let you ladies go back to your..." She clears her throat. "Conversation."
I remain silent as she checks Charlotte's vitals, giving Charlotte another sip of water.
"Look at that. Down another degree," Veronica excitedly tells us. "The antibiotics are doing their job, and your sister is here to cheer you up. Just what you needed. I'll come tell you what the bloodwork says when it comes back. You ladies need anything?"
We both shake our heads, and she gives us another smile before leaving.
"Am I right to guess that I'm not getting you to leave tonight?" Charlotte asks.
"You know better," I reply. "I'm here until I know you're okay."
"I figured. Tight, uncomfortable hospital chair it is."
And it is exactly as Charlotte describes it, too tight, too small, uncomfortable, the blanket scratchy and thin. But there's no way I'm leaving this room tonight. After Veronica comes to tell us the infection is likely from the dialysis, that it's normal, and even expected, I'm still not able to fall asleep. Instead, I watch the TV that's turned down to a low murmur as I look up hotels on my phone. As if I don't already know which one I want to go to next.
It's only because Charlotte's fever has all been disappeared that I'm even able to think about Law, and Saturday. It's after 2 a.m. and it's crazy to think he's awake, but I text anyway. It's technically Friday now, right?
Me:The Royal
I bite down on my lip, going back to the site. This time, I look at the most expensive room, since I suspect that's what he got at The Lincoln. The presidential suite. A red and white room, or rooms. No, he won't get that when it's just for us. My phone vibrates, and I close my eyes at the rush of excitement that goes through me. What is wrong with me?
Law:Room 1401. 8pm.
I have to remind myself not to let the fact that he wants to meet an hour earlier mean anything. It's just a random time. Another vibration.
Law:Don't wear panties.
Holy shit.
I am never more aware of Law's request, or was it a command, than when I'm driving to the hotel, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of getting into the room. A thrill shoots through me every single time I realize there will be nothing between me and Law's fingers, tongue, cock. By the time I'm walking from the car to the hotel doors, my thighs are slick with my wetness to the point that I wonder if the man in the lobby is staring at me because he can smell it.
I get into the elevator, press the button for the fourteenth floor, and take a deep breath. Here I go again, preparing for the unexpected. Because I have a feeling that this Saturday will be nothing like the last. Pleasure, sure, dirty words, yes, but I don't think Law is the kind of man to do what's expected of him.
The elevator stops, doors opening to a hallway with light gray walls. When I step out, I look to the left and see only one door, same when I look to the right. The sign in front of me only has two numbers listed. 1400 and 1401. To the right it is. My heels are soundless on the carpet as I walk, pulling my peach dress down my hips. Then I'm at the door, a feeling of deja vu overtaking me. I knock and wait.
A few moments pass, and the door opens. This time Law has no shirt or pants on, muscles on display, that small trail of hair that leads to beneath his boxer briefs visible. Funny since there's no hair beyond that. He opens the door wider in lieu of a greeting, and I step inside. I don't get far, though.
As soon as I'm past the door, Law slams me against the wall, his face so close to mine, our noses almost touch. His eyes are staring into mine, a crazed lust in them. But it's hard to pay attention to his eyes, or anything, when his hand is skimming up my thigh, bringing my dress with it.
"Did you follow my command and leave this pussy bare for me?" he asks, his voice low.
I swallow. Does he expect me to be able to speak after he says words like that? His hand stops, a brow arched, waiting for my answer. I'll find the damn words if it will get his hand moving again.
