Page 75 of Tempt Me

“I’ll wait a bit longer. Maybe she’ll turn up.” He turned, and I watched him walk all the way to the Triple H Bar, my heart aching. David had been sad when I’d first met him all those weeks ago, but by the end of our bedroom romp, he was delightfully happy.

I wanted to see him smile again.

David Lawson had just declared himself as my twenty-third sexy rendezvous.

My mind spun like a roulette wheel as I considered how this was going to play out.

Four times over the course of the next hour, David repeated his reconnaissance. With each appearance, he looked more inebriated.

I hope he goes to bed before he completely passes out.

At eleven o’clock, David did another round of the lobby. He was fairly unsteady on his feet when he walked past the reception desk.

“Maybe she’ll come to you in the morning,” I called out to him before he disappeared into the bar.

His eyes shifted to me. “Pardon?”

“I said, maybe this Memphis woman will come by in the morning.” I deepened my voice in a lame attempt to disguise it.

He blinked at me, fluttering eyelashes that were as dark as his hair. “Maybe.”

“How about you tell me your room number? If she comes in, I’ll ring you.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” Relieved that I could finally help him, I made a show of grabbing the notepad and pen and avoided looking directly at him so he wouldn’t see my eyes. “What’s your name and room number?”

He strolled to the counter, and I smelled both beer aroma and his musky cologne. “I’m David Lawson, and I’m in room thirty.”

I wrote it down and put the pad on the desk. “Okay then. If she turns up, I’ll ring you.”

He nodded and looked like he was ready to fall asleep right there on the countertop. “Thank you.”

After a brief, unsteady wobble, he headed toward the elevator, and within a minute, he was gone.

As the night rolled into the early hours of the morning, I was consumed with the question of what David wanted to thank Memphis for. Our last rendezvous hadn’t culminated in anything spectacular.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true—it was out-of-this-world-spectacular for me.

I remembered standing above him, allowing him to watch as I did things to myself that I’d never done before. My insides curled with those wonderful memories.

David, however, had remained fully clothed and, for most of our encounter, had looked slightly petrified.

Maybe he wanted to show me another side of him. I was so ready for that.

The second Needledick arrived to take over my shift, I raced up to my room and into the shower. I pictured David in his white button-up shirt with the top button undone and wondered what delightful things he had beneath that clothing for me to explore.

I applied my makeup, and as I ran my favorite electric blue eyeliner along my eyelid, I realized I had a dilemma. David might remember Memphis had green eyes. And after talking to me several times last night, he could recognize my eyes too.

The question was, should I wear my new contact lenses or not?

On one hand, his encounter with Memphis was eighteen weeks ago, so there was a good chance he wouldn’t remember her eye color. On the other hand, he’d had a bit to drink last night, so he possibly wouldn’t recall my eyes.

Deciding not to wear my colored contact lenses, I applied elaborate shades of blue eye shadow and lashings of mascara to hopefully detract from my green irises as much as possible. Finishing my makeup, I tugged on the trusty black wig that came with the French maid costume. That was how David would remember Memphis.

I considered wearing the French maid costume for all of about six seconds before I decided on something a little less flamboyant. I chose my rose red halter-neck dress that I’d worn the day I’d lost my casual sex virginity to the gorgeous geek with the wonderful soft hands. I chuckled at the memory as I tipped out my entire assortment of new underwear onto the bed.

Normally, I’d wash the new underwear before I wore them, but this was an emergency.

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