Page 21 of Room 810

“Aw, you could never look bad, but you know… lonely.” She offered a kind smile, and my heart sank. She knew better than to pry into my personal life, but rumors had obviously spread about me and Gabriel. It was pretty obvious I hadn’t been the same since he left. When I didn’t answer, she wisely changed the topic. “Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Tonight’s special is lemon-garlic mahi-mahi.”

I paused with the straw halfway to my mouth. It wasn’t rum I needed, but she’d just given me an idea. I set my drink down on the table to my right. “The menu… yeah…” I said, slowly rising. “If you’ll excuse me for a second, I have some work to do.”

Hurrying to my small office, I sat down in my chair and pulled my cell phone out of the top drawer. It hadn’t had much use in the two years since I’d arrived at the island, and the battery had been long-dead when I unearthed it after Gabe’s departure. Now, though, I made sure to keep it charged for just such an occasion.

I glanced at my watch and made a quick calculation for the time difference—close to bedtime in Copenhagen, but not too late—then I put through a video call with the push of a button, a fluttering of nerves in my chest.

It rang and rang, and I was starting to doubt myself. This was stupid, he didn’t want to talk to me. My thumb was just moving to hang up, when he picked up. His hair was wet and messy. “Don’t hang up!” he gasped out.

“I won’t,” I said, melting back in my chair, relief at seeing his face.

“Hey, there you are,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower. I almost missed your call. What’s up?”

My responding smile was shaky. Just out of the shower? Had he had time to wrap a towel around his waist? Now I was left wondering if he was naked on the other end of this call. I swallowed thickly. “Uh, I just had a quick question.”

“Mm-hm,” he murmured, smirking. “You seem to have had a lot of questions lately…”

I huffed a laugh, because it was true. I’d made up a few excuses in order to stay in touch, but I was running out of reasons to call him. “I was wondering your thoughts on the menu.”

He quirked a brow. “The menu?”

“Yeah. I give the chef a lot of leeway with the menu, and to be honest, I’m no gourmand. I don’t really know much about food besides that I like to eat it. Was the menu missing anything in your opinion?”

“Ah, yes, let me think…” He tapped his chin in an effort to play along, but we both knew I was being ridiculous in calling him again. I couldn’t help it, though. I just missed him. “Whipped cream,” he said at last.

I frowned. “What, like, just a bowl of whipped cream?”

“Well, I suppose you could add some strawberries or chocolate syrup, but I meant as a to-go package. For when couples would like to take a little after-dinner treat back to their rooms. You know what I mean…”

“Ohhh, yes, you’re right. Maybe a bottle of champagne to go with it.”

“A nice touch,” he agreed.

Just like that, the made-up reason for my call was too quickly done. A silence descended over us, neither one of us ready to hang up. “So… how was your day?” I asked. He had already left Italy and Spain behind, followed by Budapest. Now he was in Denmark. He looked tired. Maybe it was just me, but all that travel seemed exhausting.

“It was okay,” he said, shrugging. “I just checked in a few hours ago, had some dinner. The food was standard.” He paused. “But there is a distinct lack of entertainment here. And the bed’s a little big for just one person, and it’s not as soft or as warm as yours…” His voice had taken on a little gravelly texture and gone down an octave, and he bit his lower lip.

“Gabriel Barclay, are you flirting with me?” I teased.

It was hard to tell on the small screen, but it almost looked like he was blushing. “I am. Sorry, I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you’re doing just fine.” I licked my lips slowly. “What are you wearing?” I asked. Though I could see his bare chest, it was more the bottom half of his body I was curious about.

His smile widened, eyes darkening. “Should I show you?”

I nodded, cock hardening in anticipation. He panned the camera lower, over his bare chest and stomach, still beaded with moisture after his shower, and my mouth watered with the urge to lick those drops from his skin. I could make out the light dusting of hair forming a treasure trail, and there was no towel in sight. I held my breath, aching, as he slowed the progress, making me groan.

“Stop teasing,” I groused. “Get to the good stuff.”

The camera flicked back to his face. “Wait a minute, this doesn’t feel fair. What do I get out of this? You should be playing the game too, don’t you think?”

Was it a game? Sure, it was fun, but it felt like the stakes were too high; we were playing with my heart. That didn’t stop me from sighing in false exasperation. “Fine, I suppose you’re right.” I got up from my chair and locked my office door, then sat back in my chair, propping the phone up against a stapler.

“Good. Now open up that robe for me,” he commanded, moving to lie back on his bed. I hadn’t seen a lot of this alpha confidence from him, and I liked it.

I started to whip off the robe, but he tutted. “Ah-ah! Slower,” he instructed. “And angle your camera down.”

I obeyed, my body tingling. I wanted to feel his hands on me. There was slick trickling between my ass cheeks and soaking into my shorts. I slowly teased the edges of my robe apart, allowing my fingers to brush my nipples, extra sensitive as they stiffened.

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