by L. L Hunter
I saw his smirk before the doors shut.
Oh, hell.
What’s worse than thinking about your soaked undies in public? Having a pubescent boy see you face plant in a short dress, that’s what.
A middle-aged lady dressed in a hotel robe and slippers rounded the corner as I brushed off my dress and pretended to walk confidently to my room. She paused at the intersection and gave me a dirty look before turning right.
“What’s your problem, lady?” I said quietly to myself. I gave her the bird and quickly made my way to the room. Could this night get any worse?
I made it to my room and shut the door before anything else could occur. I turned on the light and adjusted the thermostat to cool, as the room was stifling. Susan had paid for our rooms here, mostly so she could come back and order champagne and fall asleep before ten to get in her full eight hours of beauty sleep. You’d think a five-star hotel could afford to keep the air conditioning regulated. By now, Susan was probably on her way back, so I had to be quick to avoid her. I couldn’t let her find out the real reason I’d returned to the hotel.
I found my suitcase and rifled through it searching for a spare pair of knickers. I always packed an extra pair of undies whenever I travel for the night or extended period of time. You never know when you might need them. Accidents happen. But this, tonight, was no accident. Jack Dean had caused this. But I definitely wasn’t pre-empting it.
My fingers grasped a small piece of cotton and lace—which was strange. I hardly owned anything with lace. Definitely not underwear. I didn’t date, and I didn’t buy lacy, skimpy lingerie for myself. There was no reason to. I preferred all my bits to be covered entirely. I tugged the material free and pulled out what looked to be a small piece of black lace. I held it up cautiously and took in what appeared to be the skimpiest black G-string I had ever seen. Crap! I must have grabbed my sister’s knickers out of the washing pile by mistake. I flung the dental floss on the bed and grabbed the suitcase, tossing its contents onto the bed, as well. But no matter how many times I searched that suitcase, no other underpants could be found.
“Shit! This isn’t good.” I began pacing and hyperventilating. Then my eyes caught the time on my fitness tracker. The after party had well and indeed started, and Jack was probably already there searching for me. I picked up the dental floss and studied them. I couldn’t wear them. There’s just no way. But then I remembered my wet undies.
There was no other choice. I couldn’t face Jack Dean knowing he was the cause of my damp knickers. I had to either wear my sister’s G-string or go commando. And there was no way I was going nude under a dress this short. So, I had no other option. I was wearing the dental floss.
I quickly swapped my undies, taking off my soiled ones and tossing them in the side pocket of the suitcase and slid on the G- string. I had never ever worn a G-string before, so the feeling was strange as I walked to the bathroom. The cool air from the air conditioning hit my butt cheeks instantly. When I was a little girl, I had hated wearing dresses. I would chuck a tantrum, kicking and screaming every time my family would try to force me into one. This was due to the fact I hated feeling the breeze down there. And mainly because you just couldn’t climb trees in a dress.
I quickly freshened up, splashing water on my face after sweating off almost all my make-up. The theatre had been hot and stuffy. Nerves had been the leading cause, though. That and Jack.
It seemed Jack Dean was the root cause of most of my problems tonight. Damn him. He was going to be the death of me. I reapplied my make-up and dabbed on more deodorant and perfume. I was ready to head back to the party now.
As I made my way to the after party, I tried to calm my nerves and not focus on Jack Dean. But that was almost impossible since Jack had now taken up residence in every waking thought. And I knew he would be in my dreams tonight too.
6
Music spilled out of the doors of the ballroom, where the after party was— deafening nightclub music.
Music I hated.
But I was here because I had to see Jack. I had to get the exclusive for the website.
Yep, that was the only reason I was here. It had nothing to do with the hold Jack seemed to have on me. Security stopped me when I approached the doors.
“Invite, please.”
I waved the lanyard, the guard scanned it, and just like that, I was in.
The room was dark, and I stuck to the edge as I made my way through the room. There was a bar to my right, so I made a beeline for it. I needed liquid courage.
“Hi, what would you like?” asked the petite blonde woman behind the bar.
“Um…” I needed something stronger than wine or champagne. “I’ll have a mojito, please.”
“Sure.” The bartender nodded. She moved around collecting the ingredients for my drink, and as I watched her work, I felt someone come up beside me.
“You made it.” The voice was playful yet sensual and right near my ear. It made me shiver. I turned and found myself face to face with Jack Dean.
I smiled. “I’m here.” Oh, God. Chloe, could you be any more of a dork?
Luckily, Jack didn’t seem fazed by my dorkiness. He just smiled and turned to the bar.
“A scotch on the rocks, please.”
The pretty, young bartender flashed Jack a thousand watt smile and tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear. Oh, God.
“Certainly.” She finished my drink and set it on the bar before getting to work on Jack’s drink. Jack turned to look at me, and I smiled at him again.
“I’m glad you’re here,” said Jack as the bartender handed him his drink. He dropped a fifty-dollar note on the bar. “Thanks. Keep the change.”
The girl smiled at him again and turned away. I spun to face him.
“You just paid for my drink! How’d you know I hadn’t paid?”
“Because I’ve been watching you.” He laughed, seeing my horrified face. “No. Not like that. I saw you when you walked in.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heated, and I took a sip of my drink. Jack led us through the crowded room to a couple of lounge chairs in the corner.
“It’s the least I can do. I couldn’t wait to talk to you again.”
“But I’m a journalist. Why would you want to talk to me?”
“You’re not that kind of journalist, are you, Chloe?” He leaned in closer across the small circular table. He had me there. I leaned in too.
“No. I’m not.” He smiled, and I could see his white teeth glimmer in the dim blue-tinted room. I took a sip of my drink, and he did the same. He then leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs.
“So how about that exclusive now?”
“Oh, sure.” Why did he want to do this now? He had me distracted. Frazzled. There was no way I could concentrate enough to think of suitable questions. I fiddled with the black vintage clutch that I’d gotten from an opportunity shop a few years ago.
“Hey, I was joking, Chloe.” He leaned forward and reached for my hand across the table. I smiled and let him. “Questions are boring. Just write about this,” he said, waving his hand about.
“I don’t know. This is kinda private. Why would you want me to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets to the world?”
“But it’ll appease your dragon. Besides, I need to show the world the real me. Not the one they see in pictures in trashy magazines.” He winked, and I laughed, picking up my drink again.
I thought about what Jack had said, about needing to tell the world the truth. I thought about the photo I was asked to write about. This was it. I needed to come clean. I leaned forward.
“About that… there’s a photo floating around, of you and Alexa Long…”
He leaned back in the chair and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s why I need to set the record straight. I need to tell my side of the story. My manager thinks this will be good publicity for both of us. But I disagree. The photo was staged by Alexa as revenge, but it’s turned into so much more.”
“Why revenge? What does Alexa want?”
“Fame, fortune, and me. It was because I turned her down. I’m sick of her games. And I need to show the world who I really am first—before they draw their own conclusions.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.” I took another sip of my liquid courage. “Since we’re on the topic of wanting to clear the air, I need to confess something.”
He leaned in closer and took another sip of his drink. “Oh, yeah?”
“The photo. My boss asked me to write an article about it, but I couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because the truth is, there’s something about you that is so real. So raw. You’re good looking sure, but that’s not all you are. There’s more soul underneath that skin. And I… I couldn’t make up a story about you. Being with you now, I knew I needed to know the real you.”
Jack searched my face, and then took my hand across the table.
“Wow. That’s the nicest thing I think anyone has ever said about me. Could you really see all that from one photograph?”
“Not just from the photograph, but from all your films. There’s a sensitivity there. You seem real and genuine. There’s something about you that makes me crave to know you.”
“And there’s something about you, Chloe, that’s different than anyone I’ve ever met before. There’s something real and genuine about you, too. You’re not like the other journalists. You actually have a heart and a soul. You care about people. That’s a rare quality.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
I didn’t think about work for the rest of the night. Jack ordered us more drinks, and we stayed for a few more hours chatting and laughing. Sometime during the evening, Jack slid closer to me in the circular lounge chair so we could hear each other speak over the loud music.
It was then his stomach growled. I laughed. My stomach joined in.
“God, I’m starving. I forgot to eat,” he said, laughing.
“Me too.”
“Wanna come back to my room for room service?”
“Yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”
He took my hand and led me out of the room. A flash illuminated the room, but I put it down to strobe lights. Little did I know, this night, this encounter would be a pivotal moment in my life.
7
It was still dark when we made it to the elevator. Jack’s hand found my lower back, and I didn’t protest. I liked the feel of his hand there. I turned and looked at him, and my stomach flip-flopped as I saw he was looking at me too. His eyes held a hint of desire and mystery. It was frightening and exciting being next to Jack. Never in my wildest dreams would I have foreseen this night.
It’s true what they say: Timing and opportunity are everything.
I think fate had a part to play at this moment. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my sister introducing me to Susan. If Susan hadn’t asked me to cover this event and give me the VIP pass to the after party, I wouldn’t be here, either. And if Jack hadn’t invited me… I wasn’t one of those fangirls. But you had to be blind or gay not to be attracted to Jack Dean. He was the guy every guy wanted to be, and the guy every girl wanted.
As the elevator doors opened, Jack pulled me closer until I was up against his body. A jolt of electricity shot through my body, and I was suddenly wide-awake. I took Jack’s hand and led him into the elevator. We stood towards the back holding each other’s gaze as the doors closed.
And as the doors closed, and Jack’s hand found my thigh, another flash blinded us.
When the doors opened, Jack still held onto my hand. He tugged me in the direction of his hotel room. We laughed as we swayed in our drunkenness, bashing into the walls. We were both intoxicated, but not all of it was from alcohol. I was drunk on Jack—and the way he looked at me, Jack was drunk on me too. This was confirmed when we stopped outside Jack’s room so he could find his key card.
As he slid the card into the door, I grabbed his waist and tugged him closer. He leaned down and kissed me. Oh, my God. His kisses were electric. I was already buzzing, but Jack gave me an extra kick. He was a drug, and I was addicted to him.
We didn’t even separate to enter the room. We practically fell into the room as the door opened and then closed behind us. Jack flipped me around and pushed me up against the closed door. His lips found mine again, and then my neck. I moaned and felt myself falling. Jack caught me, picked me up. I swung my legs up around his waist as he carried me into the spacious suite. He set me down on the bed and keeping my firm grasp on him with my legs, I pulled him down with me.
“Mm, Chloe. As much as I want this and you right now, I also want food.” He pushed off the bed and walked over to the room service menu. He picked it up and began perusing it while I sat up and tried to collect the scattered pieces of my mind. When he kissed me, my brain ran away. I suspected it was still amongst all the people at the after party. I stared at him and his dark jeans and a black t-shirt. The shirt had been hiding underneath his white linen dress shirt and defined his toned biceps. His biceps weren’t too big but perfect. It showed he liked to keep fit but wasn’t obsessed with his body. Jack’s features were dark, and he had a slightly olive complexion, which I assumed was from his half-Asian origins. I had a secret thing for half Asian guys. Well, it wasn’t really a secret. My friends knew my type. There was just something about the dark eyes and hair mixed with Caucasian facial features. They were a huge turn on for me.
“What are you gonna order?” I asked, noting Jack was still reading the menu.
“Well, I’d kill for some of my mum’s rice paper rolls right now. But will have to settle for the duck pancakes they have here.”
“Mm. Yum. That sounds heavenly.” I leaned back and turned slightly to the side so I could watch him. He picked up the phone and turned to face me. He smiled, and his dimple made another appearance. Oh, how I wanted to go up to him and trace that dimple with my fingers—and then my tongue. He was so gorgeous to look at. I smiled back and continued my study of him.
“Yes, hi. I was wondering if I could get two orders of your duck pancakes as well as one pad thai. Vegetarian will do. Oh, I’d also like a bottle of your best sauvignon blanc delivered as well.” He paused, and his gaze met mine once more. My tummy flipped, and that warm tingly feeling down there reappeared. “Two glasses.”
Oh, hell. This must be a dream. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.
8
While we waited for the food to get there, Jack returned to the bed and lay down beside me. I rolled over so I was facing him.
“So, do you live predominantly in L.A.?” I asked, tracing a line down the centre of his chest. His hand found my earlobe. His thumb traced it, and then he tugged gently. Tingles shot down my spine as I lay back on the mattress. Oh, God. I had never had an orgasm before. I had never slept with anyone before. I was a virgin. Because I just hadn’t found the right guy. But if I could have one now, I would. The feel of his fingers on my ear was purely orgasmic. I know what women talked about in romance novels now.
His fingers then crept along the nape of my neck and grasped my low bun and tugged. I gasped as he pulled my hair tie and released my hair. It cascaded down my back. Before my mind could process what he was doing to me, I was being pinned under his weight, and he was kissing me, his lips devouring me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tightly to me, kissing him back.
His kisses were amazing. Not too wet or sloppy. No teeth. Have you ever kissed someone, and it was all teeth and hardly any lip? It’s the worst! But there was tongue. It was hot. I melted underneath him.
By morning, I suspected, if I stayed until morning that is, I would probably be a Chloe puddle on the bed.
“Yes,” he whispered, in between kissing my mouth and neck. The reply came a few minutes after I had asked it. I think he was distracted by me. I was too distracted by him to remember having ever asked him a question.
“Do you have any jobs after this?”
&n
bsp; “I have a few jobs lined up in L.A. It’s almost pilot season.”
I just nodded. Because I didn’t know what was going to happen past this moment. And I didn’t want to talk about the future because that would be a complete buzz kill. You don’t talk about the future on a first date. But was this a first date? I didn’t know what this was. All I knew was that we wanted each other.
My crazy thoughts were saved from escaping my mouth by a knock at the door. Thank God. I don’t want to ruin this moment. I just wanted to be with Jack and not think. I suspected he felt the same.
“Oh, thank goodness. I’m starving.” He rolled off the bed and ran to the door. A young female staff member stood at the door with a tray. She blushed at the sight of Jack.
Jack smiled, and I suspected his dimple was the reason for the red on the girl’s cheeks getting darker.
“Thanks. I’ll take it.”
“Oh… okay,” the girl stammered, and I instantly felt a little protective of Jack. I felt like screaming ‘Stop ogling my man’—which was stupid because Jack Dean was not my man. I didn’t even know what we were. Just two people who wanted each other, I suppose.
Jack closed the door with his foot and brought the tray to the bed. I sat up as he lifted the lid off the food and set up the two wine glasses. He pulled the wine from the ice bucket and twisted the cap off. He poured a generous amount of wine in each glass and sat it back in its icy bath.
“Mm. This smells amazing,” I said.
“Enjoy. It’s not my mum’s, but it’ll do.” He handed me a fork and picked up his own, and we dug into the duck pancakes.
I groaned. “Mm.”
“Good, huh?” Jack said around a mouthful of food. His lips twisted into a smile on one side and his dimple reappeared. I groaned again, but this time it wasn’t because of the food.
Jack laughed. “It sounds like you’re in love with the pancakes.”
“No. I mean, yes.” No. I’m in love with your dimples. I instantly blushed.
