Page 35 of Room Service
“Um, isn’t it a bit casual for dinner?” And also a bit weird that he’s giving me sleepwear to put on when this is just a sex thing between us.
“That’s the point, Elise. Casual and relaxed. Now, be a good girl and put them on. There’s a hairbrush and toiletries in the drawers underneath the sink if you want to use them. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” And then he leaves, giving me a wink before he goes.
Umm… o-kay… what just happened? I quickly drop the towel and put the pyjamas on, and fuck, they are the comfiest pyjamas ever. I get that he has so much money he can have the best of everything, but why is he doing this for me? What have I done to earn his kindness? And does he do this for every woman he sleeps with? No, stop it, I don’t want to think about it. I’ll remain in ignorant bliss, thinking that I am the first woman he’s done this for. It makes it special, and these moments with him will be ones I will cherish forever, no part of them tainted.
I pick the towel up and add it to the wash basket before quickly going to the sink unit and using the toiletries he said were available. I spritz some perfume on my neck and wrists, and I brush my hair to rid myself of the knots. I don’t bother with anything else, because he sees me daily with no make-up on. I have nothing to hide when it comes to my body, he’s seen it all.
I hurry out of the bathroom, double checking I’ve left it tidy, and I make my way to the main room. When I get there, I see a table has been set up by the window, with candles and a single rose in a vase in the middle, and place settings on opposite sides. It’s so fucking romantic, but it shouldn’t be, should it? This isn’t about romance. It’s about sex. Maybe this is how he does whatever he does, and maybe I should stop asking so many goddamn questions and just enjoy it all. I decide to go with the latter as he walks in from the kitchen carrying two plates, and smiling at me as he goes.
“Come and take a seat,” he says, and I try to walk as casually as I possibly can, even though I want to squeal and run over there and pretend that this fairy-tale will last forever.
“This looks amazing,” I say as I reach the table, and I feel his body behind me as his fingers brush my hair to one side, his lips placing a soft kiss on the side of my neck.
“Not as amazing as you, but food first,” he whispers by my ear, and I shudder with delight. He taps my arse and tells me, “Sit.”
He sits opposite, and I look at the food in front of me. It smells delicious, and I am absolutely starving.
“Hope you don’t mind pasta, and help yourself to the tempura prawns,” he says as he gestures to the sharing bowl in the middle of the table. “There’s also fresh bread in the basket,” he continues, as if I can’t see it, and I wonder if he’s a little out of his comfort zone with all of this.
“It looks delicious. Thank you.” A genuine smile graces my face, and I feel my damn heart fluttering as I look at the man who has made this all seem so surreal. I take a slice of bread and butter it, dipping it in the sauce that the pasta has been cooked in before taking a bite. And when I do, flavour bursts in my mouth. “Oh my god, this is so good.”
“You’re welcome,” he says smugly, but it’s endearing.
“So, uh, how was your day?” I ask, wondering if I just made things really fucking awkward by having a conversation like a normal couple would have over dinner.
“We don’t have to do small talk, Elise,” he says, and I feel a pang of disappointment hit.
“Of course not, sorry.” I look down at the food and feel like a bit of a twat if I’m being honest.
“No, that came out wrong. What I mean is that we’ve gone from nought to sixty in no time at all, so small talk seems…”
“Meaningless?” I say, filling in the blank for him. “I get it. This is something that I never saw coming, and I don’t think you did either, so it’s new ground for both of us.” I have no idea where I’m getting the confidence from to say all of this, but I’ve been nothing but open with him since day one—to a certain point, anyway.
“You’re right,” he says as he leans back in his chair. “I never do this, Elise. I never invite women to dinner or run them a bath.”
“And I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”
“I know, but…” His voice trails off as he runs a hand through his hair and blows out a breath. “I’m never like this with anyone, and I mean no-fucking-one.”
“So, why are you doing this for me?” I ask quietly.
“Honestly?”
I nod at him.
“I don’t know,” he admits.
Well, it’s not the answer a girl wants, but it’s honest if nothing else.
“I am known for being a hard man to crack, and trust me, plenty of people have tried and failed. I don’t trust easily, Elise, but from the moment I met you, I don’t know, I felt something without you even trying to break me down.”
“I get it.” I truly do, because there’s this ‘thing’ between us that neither one of us can seem to shake. It’s been crazy from the word go, and it doesn’t seem to want to stop.
Silence descends upon us, the food forgotten as our thoughts consume us. And then, out of nowhere, he pushes his chair back and says, “Come here,” in the most seductive voice I’ve ever heard.
I gulp as I push myself up slowly from my chair, unable to resist his call. I walk around the table, feeling all kinds of vulnerable as I do, but also knowing that he came into my life at this moment for a reason. A reason I’m yet to truly understand.
I stop when I stand in front of him, and his legs part more as he reaches forward and pulls me between his thighs. He runs his hands up my bare legs and over the pyjama shorts I’m wearing, and when he reaches the waistband, he moves them down, until they’re pooling at my feet. No need to remove any underwear, because I wasn’t wearing any. He licks his lips as he sits back and frees his cock from his jogging bottoms—his very hard cock.
