Page 19 of Scarlet Secrets

On the coffee table between the sofas is a hotel notepad. And in strong writing is a note.

Order room service. Finish your bath. Everything is paid for.

I study the note, struggling with the sudden emotions that swirl through me. He left without saying goodbye?

Then again, why should he? It’s what people do with one-night stands, right? They have sex and move on without the awkwardness of the morning after. That’s the point. No strings and you never have to see the person you had sex with again.

I sink onto the sofa.

“Too bad, because the sex was pretty fucking mind-blowing.” And I think he felt the same. He couldn’t get enough of me and in my limited experience—in my Toby years, I should say—that didn’t happen.

A guy didn’t keep getting it up over and over for a woman he wanted because he was bored. Right? “Right?”

Then I spot something.

My suitcase, in the little alcove near the door. I don’tknow why, but it somehow calms me. There’s a thoughtfulness to it, having it moved in here. I can’t even remember how long I told him I’d be here, but then again, it’s not like I get squatter’s rights when checkout comes around.

Since I have most of the day… I check my phone. It’s eight a.m. Yep, I slept late. I’d have already been up, prepping for the day. And I can still do that in here. Get out my computer, go over my presentation, and have breakfast.

The menu’s exclusive for up here, it seems, as I pick up the print menu. I can also order online, but there’s something quaint about doing it the old-fashioned way, running a finger down over everything until something catches my eye. I order and when it arrives, maple yogurt, berries, and granola, along with a fresh juice and a coffee, I get to work.

Thing is, while I can eat and work, my body keeps sending tingles through me, all of them loaded with sense memories of moments from last night and the early hours. His tongue on my nipple, teeth against my throat. Tongue in my mouth.

Fuck, he tasted divine, like someone had distilled the best parts of a man. And his scent was subtle. The bath oil I used, that was him. And the spiced dark sugar, which wasn’t sweet, just a rounded and complex scent, had whiskey in there, too. The heat of it. And I need to stop because I’m starting to throb with need.

I’m not really sure how I can since I’m just a ball of ache and sore muscles I never knew existed. My ass… even that kind of wants him again. It was weird, anal, slightly uncomfortable, until it felt good, until I came so hard. A deeper throb of an orgasm. Something to be savored. Sometimes to keep me warm down the line when I need those memories.

When I’m done with breakfast, I push the plate away and close my computer. Then I select the clothes I need for the day from my case.

Usually, I’d just grab the plainest dress in there, but I grabthe red one with the pencil skirt and the stockings, light, fitted jacket, and the low-heeled red shoes. This was my meeting with Kara outfit, the one I never got to wear.

I’m feeling freer. Like a girl who takes risks. Even tiny ones.

But first, I need a shower. No. I need a bath.

I take my clothes and jog up the stairs, then hang up the dress in the bathroom to let any creases smooth out.

The bath takes a while to fill, so I brush my teeth and strip, looking at myself in the mirror, trying to see if it’s obvious there’s a change in me.

I haven’t morphed suddenly into some sophisticate. I’m still me. Blonde, eyes big and… just me.

Except… Oh shit. I touch the bruise on my throat, pressing in, and everything in me lights up, a spark of desire. A mark where he sucked and bit me. And as I keep looking, I have bruises, bites, tiny marks to show the way he worshipped me. Because that’s how I feel. Worshipped.

Divine.

I turn off the taps and, since the oil isn’t there, I add some of the hotel bubbles, a nice soft, clean scent with a hint of lemon. Then I step into the giant tub and sink down, closing my eyes.

Last night, when he walked in here, he took his fill, drinking me in like a man handed a drug he coveted, and even then, totally mortified, I felt… like Venus rising, like a sensual, sexual being, someone who could command armies of men to my bidding.

I felt like I wanted to jump his bones. What would he have done if I’d commanded him closer, rather than having him turn from me?

He’d have climbed into the bath, fully dressed, only taking the time to lower his zipper and pull that magnificent and impressive cock out and have me sink down on him. Thetub’s big enough and kissing him, fucking him in here would be…

Orgasmic.

I’d rock on him, rising and falling, taking control, fucking him senseless. Then he’d stand and strip, present me with that cock, and push my head down on it so he could fuck my mouth.

A shiver races through me as my hand slips down between my legs and I start to pleasure myself, pretending it’s him. I only have to touch and I’m off, the throb increasing, the sweet delight expanding, and now in my fantasy, he’s lifted me out of the tub and has me sitting on the edge of the vanity, legs spread so he can eat me out.

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