Page 74 of Mine

Chapter Twenty

At the hotel, Phoebe pulled the items out of her bag and took her eyes over the designer clothes. The more she tossed the idea she had around in her head, the more she wanted to put it in place. But Quentin had plans of his own, and right now he was out trying to make sure whatever it was, was perfect. But as the naughty thought continued to swirl, Phoebe trudged over to the phone and dialed the front desk.

“Shangri-La Hotel, how can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am, this is Phoebe Alexandria, I’m in the penthouse suite and need a few men to come help me move around some furniture. Nothing major, I assure you.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Rose, I’ll send someone up right away.”

“Thank you.”

Phoebe dropped the phone on its base and strolled to the patio doors. When she opened them, a gust of wind flew inside, and from where she stood, the Eiffel Tower sat with blinking lights as it prepared for what she was sure would be a magnificent light display.

Back across the room, Phoebe took her clothes to the bathroom and pulled out everything she would need for tonight’s performance. When a knock came at the door, she smiled and left the lavatory to let in her handy men.

“Good evening,” she said.

“Good evening to you, madam. We we’re told you needed some help rearranging furniture?”

“Yes, if you’ll follow me.”

The two men entered the room dressed down in the hotel’s signature uniform.

“I’d like this moved to the terrace and the table on the terrace moved here.”

The men quickly worked, moving around Phoebe swiftly as she stood back with a demure smile on her face. It had taken them all of fifteen minutes to get both pieces of furniture moved along with a few other items she’d asked them to exchange. When they were done, Phoebe pulled out two one hundred-dollar bills and handed one to each of them.

“Thank you very kindly,” she said.

“You’re most welcome, mademoiselle,” they both chimed.

Phoebe followed them to the door and did a little jig once she’d closed it. Back in the sanctuary of the bathroom, Phoebe took a shower, making sure to lather herself extra careful so the scent of her peach body wash stuck to her skin.

“Mmm, this smells so good,” she said, standing under the shower for a rinse.

Excitement bubbled through her bones, and she strutted to the sink and picked up her phone. It was 11 p.m., and time had certainly been moving. A text message icon sat at the top of her screen from Quentin. She opened it and read.

I misjudged the time this would take. Forgive me, I’ll be there in a blink.

That was five minutes ago, and Phoebe wasn’t ready. Shit. “Okay, girl, get it together,” she said, taking her eye over her image in the mirror.

As quickly as possible, Phoebe moved, applying a peach nectar to her skin for a brilliant shine. She slipped into her garments and re-brushed her teeth. She had been supremely careful with the shower, making sure not to get her hair wet. Deodorant, body spray, diamond earrings that hung from her lobes with a sparkle teased from underneath her straight shoulder length hair. Phoebe marched away from the sink to stand in front of a full-length mirror to check out her attire. She turned from side to side, then analyzed her derriere to make sure she was popping where she needed to be.

“Yesss, girl work,” she said, satisfied with her appearance.

The front door opened, and Quentin shuffled in but paused when he noticed the furniture repositioned.

“Phoebe?” he called, traipsing around the room to check out what else had been changed. “Phoebe,” his deep voice thundered.

The bathroom door opened, and Phoebe strutted out. She crossed the bedroom and casually strolled into the seating area were Quentin stood.

Quentin’s gaze left the rearranged furniture to glance over at Phoebe as she entered with a question on his tongue. “Sweetheart, what happened with the—”

His sentence died on his tongue as he swept his gaze over Phoebe’s bold attire, if you could call it that. Quentin started at her feet, immediately turned on by the six-inch spiked heels that covered her pedicured toes. Her cocoa brown legs looked like they were made of silk as the shine on them glistened, casting a golden-brown glow over the curves of them. It carried on to her curvaceous thighs and the apex of her center was covered in a see-through laced thong. Quentin’s nostrils flared as his midnight eyes sailed up her bare belly and the soft ripples in her midriff spoke to the training she’d kept up on her body.

Immediately, his blood boiled, and heat ballooned straight to his manhood. The coat he wore suddenly felt like he stood inside an oven as Quentin continued to drink up her erotic pose. Phoebe’s breasts sat full in a sheer lace shelf bra that exposed the cleavage around her breasts right down to the outer lining of her brown nipples. Thin straps covered her shoulders and the golden glow of her skin shone right up through her neck and face.

“I was hoping the plans you’ve made won’t be totally ruined if I changed them just a bit,” she purred.

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