Page 2 of Waiting for Acceptance
“I amsosorry!” I gasp.
“Seems I married a very clumsy woman,” he teases, immediately settling my nerves. I look around and notice the guy from earlier is long gone. I clear my throat and shift on my feet.
“Umm…he’s gone.” I take a step back, putting some much-needed distance between the two of us. His eyes cut to the side, seeing for himself that the guy has, in fact, disappeared.
“Good. Then my very risky efforts weren’t wasted.” He smiles and shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks. “So what was that about anyway?” I scoff and shift my weight, popping my hip to the side.
“Apparently,some guys think they’re entitled to anything. I close my eyes for one second and sway to the music a little bit and he thinks that means I want to dance with him…in between the sheets. Ugh, trash.” I scrunch my face in disgust which draws a deep chuckle from him.
“If you want to go somewhere to dance I know of a few good places around here. I could go with you, play husband slash bouncer for you a little while longer.”
“And miss the rest of thisawesomemixer?” I joke, hiking a thumb over my shoulder. He gives me an unimpressed look, then raises a brow.
“Exactly. What do you say, Trouble… Wanna go dancing?” When he smiles at me I feel excitement prick at my skin.
“What the hell, let’s go dancing.” His smile deepens and he holds his arm out, allowing me to link my arm with his. I place my drink on a random table as we head towards the exit. “Thank you for that, by the way,” I tell him as we walk out of the restaurant, but he keeps his eyes forward. My cheeks heat when I look up at him. His jawline is sharp, and his Adam's apple bobs when he smirks. Even in my five inch-heels I am significantly shorter than him so I doubt he can even see me looking up at him.
Thank you for the miniature-size genetics, mother. What I lack in height I make up for in personality.
“It was my pleasure.” We make it into the elevator before I realize we aren’t headedoutanywhere and my brows furrow. I look up at him again just as he looks down at me. “I should probably get a clean shirt first.” His smirk sends my head spinning and then hewinksat me and completely shuts downall rational thinking. As if I’m having an out of body experience, I walk in front of him, place my hands on his chest and begin unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes grow darker as he leans against the railing, shrinking him a few inches so I can reach him better and I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been.
I see him swallow as he lifts his chin, watching me continue down his dress shirt until the last button is undone. My fingertips graze over his tanned skin, my eyes growing blurry as I take in the tattoo on his chest. Then his hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls my body into his, causing our eyes to lock. My heart is hammering against my chest so hard I’m sure he can feel it. Without warning his hand releases my wrist and twists in my hair instead, his lips pressing against mine with an urgency I can feel in my bones. He stands to his full height, walking us backward until he can reach the stop button for the elevator. Then he lifts me by my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my back against the wall. His hands are everywhere and I’m doing my best to keep up. His lips travel down my jawline and neck until they stop right by my ear again.
“We aren’t going dancing, are we?” His hands slide beneath my skirt and palm my ass before squeezing it, causing me to let out a half moan, half whimper.
“No.” The low chuckle he lets out sends a fresh wave of need through my entire body.
“Do you have any hard limits?” he asks, nipping at my ear.
“No.” I feel his cheek press against mine as he smiles. He rears back just enough to look me in the eye. My mouth pops open of its own free will and before I know it, he bends down and bites my lip, licking the pain away right after.
“Maybe I’ll find some tonight, Trouble. Hm?”
Holy shit. What have I gotten myself into?
Whatever it is at least I have the undeniable ability to, as Jamie Foxx would say, blame it on the alcohol.
I wake up to the sun just starting to filter in through the window and my head absolutely pounding. When I reach my arms up to stretch I notice a few things.
One,my neck hurts.Two,there’s ablissfulache between my legs.Three,I’m not in my own room.
Shit. I clearly had sex last night.
I close my eyes and try to force myself to pick out even theslightestmemory of who I may have been with last night, but outside of Antonio all I can muster up is the taste of scotch before my head starts pounding so hard I think I might actually pass out. I can handle my liquor like a champwhiledrinking, it’s the mother freakin’ hangovers that always get me.
The spot next to me in the king size bed is empty, though it’s been thoroughly…slept in.I look around but see no evidence of another person in the room. My clothes are the only ones scattered across the floor, the shower isn’t running so he isn’t inthere—whoeverheis. I stand up, pulling the sheet from the bed and wrapping myself in it, as I walk around the room with my eyes squinted trying to find any details that can help me figure out what happened last night.
First thing I notice is that I’m in a higher level suite that I could never, in any of my lifetimes, afford. The view of Central Park is something I could stare at forever though. I continue my search in the bathroom, finding not one, butthreeused condoms in the trash can. Other than that, there’s nothing. No toiletry bag, no suitcase, no guy… Did I get railed by a ghost or something? What the hell?
Note to self: no more tequila for you.
When I make it to the desk by the window to grab my phone from my purse I notice a note on the hotel stationary with a twenty dollar bill underneath it.
Did I whore myself out for TWENTY DOLLARS??
Coffee’s on me, Trouble.
Well… I guess I could look at the bright side. From the way my body feels this morning it was probably a good ass night. Him not being here saves me from the awkwardwho are you, where am I and what happened last nightconversation, and I get free coffee out of it.
