Page 28 of Tease Me

I suddenly remembered my wig. Shit! I should have put it on while he was preoccupied.

A cheeky idea hit me, and using the flashlight, I searched the darkness for something to cover his eyes.

The beam of light highlighted my satin underwear on the carpet. They’d be ruined now, anyway. I picked them up, twirled them in my hand, and stepped toward him.

“Ready for more?”

His already amazing smile broadened. “Sure.”

I gradually draped my panties over his eyes. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t.”

Once completely across his eyes, I let go, but the silly things fell right off his face.

“Whoops,” I said as I gathered them from his groin. “Close your eyes.” This time, I opened the underwear, and thankful they weren’t completely torn apart, I fitted them over his head. It took all my might not to burst out laughing as I tugged the blue satin down to cover his eyes. “No peeking.”

“I won’t.”

I tugged on my trenchie and plucked my wig and costume off the floor. I tossed the flashlight onto the bed, and the circle of light bounced up and down the wall a few times as I strode away.

I opened the door, but turned back to Jackson. The glow from the glass doors confirmed he hadn’t moved. He looked ridiculous sitting there naked except for his boots, tool belt, and my blue panties over his head. “You were incredible.”

“Oh, Memphis, don’t do this.”

I strode through the door and was amazed to hear him laughing as I raced to the elevator.

“Come back, Memphis.” He was way too loud for this time of the morning.

The elevator pinged open, and I jumped in and jabbed the button for my floor a dozen times.

Back in my room, I giggled as I stripped, removed my makeup, and showered in record time. I redressed in the same clothes I’d worn earlier, and with my diary in my handbag, I made my way back to reception.

I held my breath as the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor, but sighed with relief when all was calm.

At the desk, I flopped onto my chair and waited for my heart to return to normal. As I wondered if my sizzling electrician had managed to get out of my ropes, I pulled my diary from my bag and turned to the 24th of July.

At the top, I wrote, Jackson Kane, room 46, and as I thought about how his groin had been totally out of proportion with the rest of his body, I wrote, My Sizzling Surprise beneath his name.

I detailed in great length my horny session with the flashlight and about smacking his bottom and the thrill of tying him up. I thought it was strange that he’d let a complete stranger do that to him. There was no way I would have.

Giggling, I wondered if he was still tied to that chair. I doubted it; I’d deliberately tied that belt loosely.

But as the hour rolled on, I wondered if he was still trapped. I was torn between going up to him and staying right where I was and pretending I had no idea what happened.

I decided to wait thirty minutes, and if there was still no sign of him, I, Jane Nichols, hotel night manager, would go up to investigate how the electrician was going.

With each ticking minute, my insides clenched with indecision. Five minutes shy of my self-imposed deadline, Jackson stepped out of the elevator. I sighed with relief at his cheeky smile and smooth, confident swagger. He was still an overexcited teenager, but he wasn’t as jittery as he’d been when he arrived.

“How did you go?” I played the concerned hotel manager to perfection.

He strode to the counter, and when he ducked down behind it, I assumed he’d put his tools on the floor. He stood up again, and with his hands sprawled on the counter, he smiled at me.

“I was tied up for a little bit there, but I managed.” He chuckled, and it was a wickedly contagious sound.

It took all my might not to burst out laughing. “So, you got the lights working?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” He spread his fingers wide and rubbed them over the black marble. “Thank you.”

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