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“I need to get my car, shower, and change. Christ, I need to get a move on.” He checks his wristwatch.
“I ordered you a cab. I wanted to take you.”
“I know, but you can have a nap before you go out tonight. Are you going out with your two friends you have plastered all over social media?”
“Yes, Hannah and Ruby.”
He throws himself on top of me playfully. “Well, I hope you tell Hannah and Ruby all about me. How good I am in the sack, how I have a massive dick, and—”
“How much you like me fingering your ass.”
He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “Please don’t tell them about that.” His voice is muffled by the bedcovers.
As if he has a sudden thought, he flings his head back to meet my gaze. “Where the hell did you even learn to do that?”
I run my hands through his hair. “I have never done it before. I read a how-to guide in a sex column in a magazine. It stuck, and I remembered. I tried it on you, it worked, you loved it.”
He groans.
“Okay, I feel better now knowing you’ve only tried that on me.” He double-checks the time. “Argh.” He smacks an urgent kiss against my lips and catapults backward off the bed. “I really have to go. Have fun tonight with the girls. Remember, big dick.” He winks. “See you tomorrow, yeah? Can you surf?” He hits the elevator button on the wall.
“You'll be quicker walking.”
“But it means I get to spend an extra twenty seconds with you. Can you?”
“Nope.”
“Great, me and you tomorrow.”
I almost mention the thought of squeezing into a tight wetsuit makes me feel sick, but I bite my tongue.
My body is beautiful.
The elevator pings open.
“See you tomorrow.” He waves.
“Oh, Lincoln!” I call out to him just as the doors almost close. His fingers appear between the two stainless-steel doors, prying them apart.
“Yes.”
“You’re fired.”
“What!” he exclaims.
I turn onto my side, push myself up, and rest my head on my hand. “You heard me; you’re fired. I checked our employment policy. We can’t date.”
“You can’t fire me!”
“I just did. Your temporary contract is now void and your services are no longer required at Urban Soul Studios.”
“I’ve never been fired in my life!”
“You’re a director of your own hotel. You can’t fire yourself.”
With his hands on either side of the doors, his dark frame fills the entire space of the entrance. His mouth is agape.
I sit up in bed and continue my reasoning and mimic his earlier balancing scales analogy. “It was either mind-blowing sex for six weeks or working together. It was a tough choice. Sex or no sex.” I tip my arms back and forth like I'm juggling an invisible ball.
