Page 5 of In Spades

“I’ll give you some extras,” she said, glancing at the two dirtied mugs and the pile of paper coffee cups in the garbage. “If you run out, feel free to call the front desk. We’ll bring some more up.”

I peeled my glasses off and rubbed my eyes. “That’ll probably come in handy.”

With practiced efficiency, she bent over, tied the trash bags, and replaced the liners.

Holy shit. I shouldn’t have been ogling the maid, but damn. Watching her bend over like that, I could see straight down that unfortunate polo. She was stacked. Tits like a dream, curves a guy could hold on to, strong arms, and deep brown eyes.

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” Her tongue darted across her lip, wetting it.

I was a goner.

“Business,” I said, lifting my laptop. “I needed a change of scenery. Working from home gets old.”

“Scenery, huh?” she asked, laughing as she floated through the room and tossed the bags into the cart by the door. “Maybe try opening the drapes.”

“Probably a good idea.” I chuckled. The last time I looked up from my computer was right after midnight. With the blackout curtains pulled shut, I hadn’t even realized it was daytime until she scared the shit out of me. “Didn’t realize I had such a dungeon vibe going on in here.”

Her laugh was melodic as she walked over to the drapes. “May I?”

“Go for it,” I said with a nod, catching a whiff of her scent as she passed by me. Rather than smelling like she bathed in perfume, she simply smelled clean. No frills, only the crisp fragrance of laundry detergent and shampoo. I liked that.

She yanked the curtains back with a swoosh, and sunlight flooded the room

It burned.

I winced and groaned, barely able to suppress the urge to hiss like a pissed-off vampire. It was so fucking bright outside.

She unlatched the double French doors and swung them open, allowing a blast of salty sea air to rush in. She breathed deeply and stared out over the water. While her back was still to me, I stole a moment to study her.

The maid was a little thing. Her trim pants stopped right above her ankles. They showed off her incredible ass. The pair of Keds on her feet were spotless—not a single scuff on them. Her white Taylor Creek Inn polo shirt was tucked in at her waist, neat and wrinkle-free. A practical ponytail pulled back her glossy brown hair.

Her appearance screamed no-nonsense.

She turned around and blinded me with a smile. “Much better. Sunlight is proven to help the brain release serotonin, and that will improve your mood.”

“Do I look like I’m in a bad mood?” I asked playfully.

“No, you just seemed frustrated,” she said with a laugh, circling her finger toward my hair. “Fresh air and sunshine will do wonders for your mind.”

So did being around her.

“Is there anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant?” Her soprano Disney princess voice made my dick twitch.

Oh, sweetheart…

I cleared my throat and forced my brain to form words that didn’t sound like they were coming from a horny caveman. I needed to stop thinking with my dick and focus. Business, not pleasure.

I set my laptop down. “Nah. Not unless you have a magic wand that can turn that thing into a coffee maker that makes more than one cup at a time,” I said, pointing at the Keurig. “But I'm probably more of a caffeine addict than most guests.”

“The average guest goes through two coffee pods for an overnight stay. They don’t even touch decaf, and most prefer lighter blends. Probably because the creamer is bland and tastes like milky cardboard.” She paused, cheeks turning red. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for a crash course on hotel coffee consumption trends. I tend to ramble.”

“You’re observant,” I said.

She beamed at the compliment, and it gave me the chance to study the pull of the corners of her eyes when she smiled. The way her nose wrinkled and the corner of her mouth twitched.

But as fast as the smile came, it left.

She shrugged. “The more I notice, the more I can help steer the ship in the right direction. Make things better for our guests, cut down on waste…”

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