Behind Your Back - Cameron Chelsea M. - Страница 30

Sixteen

We go another round (or two) and then we have to eat.

“Do you want to go out or order room service?” I ask as she sits up and runs her fingers through her fucked hair. I wish she’d just leave it like that and then everyone would know what we’ve been up to for the past few hours.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” She stands up and I drink in her naked body. Saige is comfortable with herself and that makes her all the more sexy.

“Absolutely.” She smiles, but then frowns.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Now it’s my turn to smile.

“Don’t worry about that. Go take your shower.” I desperately want to join her, but I know if I do, we’ll never leave this room. I could fuck this girl all day and all night. I’d never go to work, never sleep, never eat. Her taste is still thick on my tongue and in the back of my throat. Her scent is all over my skin and it’s a shame that she’s washing my smell off her right now. But I plan to cover her in it again very soon.

She gives me a puzzled look, but heads for the bathroom and then I hear the water running. Hoping she’s out of earshot, I pick up the phone and make a call to the front desk. Less than two minutes later there is a knock at the door. I open it to find a bellboy holding out several shopping bags to me. I thank him, hand him a tip and take the bags. Not only do they contain an entire outfit for Saige, but one for me as well.

I know it’s silly, but I picked a silver dress for her and a grey tie for me. Not too matchy-matchy, but enough so we look good together. There are some beauty products in the bags as well. I had no idea what to get, but there seems to be a good assortment from the local Sephora.

I have to play this carefully. Cautiously. I can’t scare her off. Not that I think Saige is one who would be easily scared off.

The water turns off in the shower and I wait for her to come out. She’s wrapped in a towel and her hair is dark and wet down her back. This time her face is flushed from the hot water, and not from fucking me.

“Your turn,” she says, passing by me with a little smile. “What’s this?” She gestures to the bags all stacked on the floor.

“We have dinner reservations and as much as I like you in that towel, I thought you might want to wear something a little bit fancier and not made of terrycloth.” She bends down to look in the bags and the scrap of a towel rides up; if I lifted it just a tiny bit more, I’d have one hell of a view.

“I’m going to shower. I hope you like what they picked. If you don’t we can call down and get something else delivered.” She stands up and laughs softly.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just remembering a scene in a movie with Julia Roberts. But you don’t exactly look like Richard Gere.” I know what movie she’s talking about. It’s one of Lizzy’s favorites. I’m not a huge fan of my baby sister watching a movie with hookers in it, but she loves it.

“Well, I’ll make sure not to leave you alone with any of my business partners if we go to a polo match,” I say as I walk into the bathroom. She laughs louder and I shut the door, but listen as the sound fades on the other side.

When I emerge from my (shorter than normal) shower, Saige is still in the towel, but the dress is laid out on the bed, along with a pair of shoes and undergarments, and she’s sitting on the end of the bed brushing her hair.

“Can you grab me the blow-dryer?” she asks, not looking at me.

“Sure,” I say and bring it to her. She looks up and stares at my naked chest before accepting the hair dryer from me.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask. The air in the room feels… changed. There’s a hint of awkwardness and I don’t know where it came from.

“No, this is perfect, thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. We could have gone to my house.” Oh. Maybe she’s feeling strange about me buying her the clothes. But why should she?

“Would you feel more comfortable in your own clothes? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” Shit. I must have overstepped a line I didn’t know was there. Relationships are always tricky. There are hidden landmines everywhere and you don’t know you’ve stepped on one until it’s blown up in your face and then you have to assess the damage and see if you can get out alive.

“No, no. It’s fine. Usually… Never mind.” She definitely wants to say something. I’ve never seen her tongue-tied before.

“Tell me,” I say, sitting down next to her on the end of the bed.

“Some of the guys I’ve been with have certain expectations when they spend money on me.” Oh. Gotcha. I need her to stop that train because it’s not going anywhere.

“Saige. This isn’t that. I’m not like that. I would never expect anything from you in exchange for a gift. Then it’s not a gift. If you want me to take you home right now, I’ll do it. If you want me to leave, I’ll do it. Whatever you want to do. If you want to order room service and eat it naked, I’ll definitely do that.” I try to lighten the mood a little and it works.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought you’d do that. I know you wouldn’t.” She shakes herself a little and then touches my bare shoulder. Water from the shower drips down my skin. I haven’t had a chance to dry off yet.

“I’d love to go out. And I love the dress. Whoever picked it has good taste.” I take her hand from my shoulder and kiss the back of it. It’s a silly gesture and I don’t know why I did it.

“Good. I was hoping you would. I had to guess on the sizing.” Actually, Track guessed, based on pictures. His fashionable side comes in handy more often than not.

“You guessed right.” She lets out a breath that’s a cousin to a sigh and starts running the brush through her hair again.

“I’ll leave you to get ready. I’m going to shave and get dressed.” My five o’clock shadow is coming in. I stand to go back into the bathroom, but she grabs my arm.

“Don’t shave.”

“Don’t shave?” I repeat.

She stands and runs her palm across my cheek.

“Don’t shave.” I seize her wrist and lick her palm.

“Okay.”

I don’t have much to do in the bathroom, but I wait for a while. I like the idea of coming out and finding her all done up. Like a before and after picture.

“Are you decent?” I ask through a crack in the door as I slowly open it.

“That depends on what you think is decent,” she calls back. “But you can come out if you want.” I push the door open and am struck dumb by her.

Glossy straight hair, sparkly dress and heels that make her legs look like they go on for days, even though she’s not that tall. She looks at me over her shoulder and grins.

“You like?”

“Very, very much,” I say.

“And I must say that you look very handsome,” she says, coming to stroke my unshaved face. “I like this look on you. Maybe you should grow a beard.” I have before, but not for a while.

“Maybe,” I say. A beard doesn’t really work with my Quinn Brand persona. A beard is more of a Sylas thing.

I can’t take my eyes off her glossy red lips. I’d love to get that lipstick all over me and I have to stop myself from imagining her mouth wrapped around my cock. If I think about that, then we’re never getting out of here.

“Ready?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds even.

“Yes, sir,” she says, taking my arm.

Saige’s heels make a clicking sound on the marble of the foyer of the hotel. Tonight I’ve done something out of the ordinary and hired a car. It’s not something I usually do, but it felt right.

“So this means we can fool around in the backseat and don’t have to worry about crashing?” she says in my ear as the driver holds the door open for us.

I squeeze her hand.