The Hotel

by Darling, Lola

  “Are you crazy?” Callie exclaims. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world. You had incredible sex with a hot, rich, dirty man. We’re not talking love and commitment here. We’re talking the God of All Orgasms. So, why not go again?”

  Emily shakes her head. “Think about it, Callie. This is Juliet’s dream at stake here. It’s risky.”

  “It’s Dominic Rexford!” Callie looks at us like we’re idiots.

  “Emily’s right.” I finish my food and crumple my paper plate. “It’s risky, and I don’t need that right now. When he finds out why I was at the Coq d’Or last night, he’s going to come unglued.”

  I wince at the thought. We went upstairs together with free will. What happened next was impulsive and mind blowing, but I can’t let him use it against me: not with my career on the line.

  It would help if I didn’t want him so bad.

  His touch on my lips today—the scent of his cologne. The way my breasts ached when he brushed against me are reminders that wanting him hasn’t changed. My sexual history is pretty limited, boring, if I’m honest with myself.

  My rational self has no clue how to deal with the pure lust I feel for Dominic Rexford.

  “So what are you going to do?” Emily asks.

  “The only thing I can,” I reply, determined. “My job.”

  Callie snorts.

  “C’mon,” I argue. “The whole reason it was so hot was because it was a fantasy. But the fantasy ended last night. I need to stay away from Dominic. He wants to talk tomorrow—fine. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to shut him down.”

  Callie sighs. “I guess that means no more sordid updates on the wonders of Rexford’s impressive anatomy.”

  “Nope. Sorry to disappoint,” I reply, then grin. “Just know, nothing you imagine could even come close.”

  As I head off to bed, I don’t allow myself to think about Dominic, or last night, or our encounters today. If I’m going to move on, I can’t dwell on any of it.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  The next morning, I wake feeling just as determined. By the time I shower, dress and make the drive to the hotel, I’m confident that I can ignore any lingering desire for my boss. I stop in the employee locker room to find my new locker and try out the key. It feels so official, being assigned my own spot and swiping my employee card to clock in.

  Shauna is already behind the reception desk when I get to the lobby. She hands me a steaming mug of coffee. I take the mug gratefully, needing the caffeine to counteract the mild wine headache I gave myself last night.

  “Drink up.” Shauna smiles sympathetically and pats my arm. “Edith is looking for you. You’re supposed to call her as soon as you check in.”

  “I’m not late, am I?” I look to the large, black iron framed clock on the wall behind the desk. I’m ten minutes early.

  “She didn’t say what she wanted.” Shauna takes a sip and quickly sets her mug aside. “Here she comes now.”

  Dread fills me as Edith approaches, her severe bun a perfect brown circle atop her head. She smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. I haven’t done anything wrong, as far as I know. Unless…

  I glance at Shauna, but she turned away to fiddle with something behind the desk. Worried now that she said something about my run in with Dominic in the alcove, I pull on the hem of my blazer to straighten it.

  “Good morning, Ms. Evans,” Edith says coolly.

  “Good morning.”

  She stares at me, her lips nearly white and I know without a doubt that I’ve done something to displease her.

  “Mr. Rexford requests your presence in his office. Now.”

  Disapproval is clearly marked in her words. I leave the desk to follow her. My legs are heavy and reluctant as we head to the elevator. She enters a code, presses the button and stands back, glaring at me as the doors close.

  Shit. I’m not even getting an escort.

  Alone, I try to brace myself to face Dominic. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’m taking lust off the table. Temptation, too. Isn’t that the deal I made with myself last night? I need this closure so I can move on with my internship, entanglement free.

  The elevator stops and I wish I had a mirror to check my hair, but quickly chastise myself. Who cares? I’m not here to impress him. I walk the short distance to Dominic’s office and pause in front of the French doors. With a deep breath, I knock.

  “Come in.”

  The voice is distant, so I follow the order, but when I step inside, he’s right there. I’m not prepared for the sight of him: a crisp Oxford shirt fitting his torso just right. The top few buttons are undone. No tie. Casual dark jeans—I don’t dare take in any more.

  I don’t even get a chance.

  Dominic pulls me inside and slams the door closed. Before I can draw a breath, he pushes me against the wall, pinning my wrists above my head.

  His lips crash down onto mine. I arch against him on reaction, my breasts pressing against his hard chest. I open my mouth and tilt my head, giving him better access—deeper access—and he takes it, sliding his tongue along mine in a demanding kiss.

  What the hell am I doing?

  But the shock of it feels so good, so deeply satisfying that there is no way I can find the will to stop.

  My skin flushes hot, and pleasure makes a needy spiral between my legs. His hand trails over my collarbone, raising tingles everywhere he touches. My nipples are already hard, painfully aching to be touched.

  With a groan, Dominic cups my breast and squeezes it hard. I gasp against him, but the surprise quickly subsides into something… more desperate.

  “My beautiful little liar, you’re all I can think about.”

  His lips brush mine as he speaks. My breath is coming fast and I’m torn between asking him to let me go, and begging for more.

  My traitorous legs soften, my feet moving wider apart as my pussy throbs with anticipation. Dominic answers with a groan, sweeping his thumb over my nipple, pinching it through my shirt and bra.

  “Say my name.” His touch goes to the waist of my pants. I feel him move against me there, until suddenly, the button pops free. Slowly, the zipper goes down and I forget what he just said.

  “What?”

  He jerks me roughly to him, his teeth nipping my neck and then caressing it with soothing flicks of his tongue. In one smooth motion, his hand is inside my panties, cupping my pussy. I cry out, my hips bucking.

  “Call me by my name, Juliet.”

  He rubs a finger through my wetness, softly, teasing where I’m desperate for his touch. The heel of his palm presses low on my pubic bone, the pressure combined with his soft strokes turning me into a desperate, lustful mess.

  “No.”

  My thighs quiver with the need to spread my legs more, to welcome him in, but I resist. His finger slips further, nearly touching my clit. My body is screaming for release, even as my brain tempers me.

  I can’t do this.

  But I don’t move, I stay frozen, locked in his embrace.

  “It’s pointless to resist, but I like watching you try,” he murmurs.

  He pulls my blouse open, his mouth closing over my breast. Wrapping his lips around the stiff peak, he sucks. Shock of pleasure burst through me and a whimper escapes me.

  “I’ve never heard a woman sound like you when she comes. I need to hear it, Juliet.” He suckles again, harder, forcing me to arch against him. “Don’t you want to come like that again?”

  He touches my clit with a light caress before pressing hard against it, and my body lights up. With a cry, I turn my head to the side and bite my bottom lip. I need him to stroke me, to run his finger over my clit and send me into orgasm.

  Yes, I want it! But I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

  He’s relentless, kissing my neck, grazing my ear with his teeth. But his fingers stay still between my legs.

  “If you don’t obey me, then I won’t help
you come. Face it, Juliet, you’ve never had a lover like me.” He takes my lips hard, crushing and so damn delicious. “You’ve never been fucked as good as I gave it to you. Now say it. Say my name.”

  He’s right. I’ve never had a lover like him—one who can ruin my life. If I say his name, I’ll give in and let him fuck me. He’ll think my acceptance of his identity equals acceptance of our little game.

  It takes every last ounce of self-control to push him away. “That’s enough,” I tell him, gasping for air. “I need to get back to work. Mr. Rexford.”

  “Quit playing games,” Dominic chuckles, reaching out for me again, but I shake my head.

  “I’m not playing. This can’t happen. You’re my boss, and I’m your employee. I shouldn’t have… just now, but I mean it. We can’t do this again.” My breathing is erratic, my sex begging for more, my brain telling me I’ve equally done the right thing and also made it so much worse.

  He turns away from me, leaving me weak and panting against the wall. The seconds seem to drag on as I watch him walk to his desk. What’s he going to say? Does he hate me now?

  He doesn’t look back. “You’re dismissed.”

  I’m hugely disappointed and completely relieved at the same time, frantically buttoning my blouse back up as I turn away.

  Wordlessly, I manage to remember how to walk, and head for the door. I let myself out without another word, my heart still racing and my body still wound tight.

  Someone clears their throat. I look up with a shock.

  Edith is standing in the hallway. Blood drains from my face and my stomach clenches. Was she waiting out here the entire time?

  I scramble to tuck my blouse back in place. Fuck. Fuck!

  “If you’re quite done attending to Mr. Rexford, I have a new assignment for you.” Her voice drips with disdain.

  “Alright,” I say, mostly managing to keep my voice steady. “What can I do?”

  “Housekeeping. An extensive wedding party just checked out of the third floor. All fifty rooms need cleaning.” She gives me a smug smile. “Starting immediately.”

  Chapter Seven

  I’m wearing two pairs of rubber gloves that reach my elbows.

  And I’m still freaking out about putting my hand in this toilet.

  People. Are. Disgusting.

  It’s been three days since I started my housekeeping rotation and I’ve lost all faith in humanity.

  I mean, seriously.

  Fishing used condoms out of potted plants… Cleaning congealed food off the carpet… Scraping I don’t even want to know what off the walls… This isn’t how I expected my internship to go.

  Housekeeping is part of the program; I know that and I accept it. Learning every aspect of the hotel business is important to me and critical for my future in this industry. Yet knowing the debauchery people are capable of when they are behind closed doors gives me an entirely new respect for the housekeeping staff.

  I’d never have imagined that pubic hair turning up in odd places would be the least disgusting thing I would come across. I’ve been here since six AM, scrubbing, straightening, and vacuuming, and I can’t wait to just go home.

  Edith has made her point loud and clear. I know she is punishing me for what she thinks I’ve done with Mr. Rexford; it doesn’t matter that I slept with him before I started my internship. She thinks something happened in his office the other day, and this is her way of reminding me that I’m not here to flirt with the boss. I’m here to scrub shit out of the curtains.

  Point. Taken.

  In a way, this housekeeping assignment is a blessing since it’s allowed me to pretty much hide from Dominic. I don’t expect that he’s been looking for me, not after I snubbed him. He got the point, and I shouldn’t feel disappointed that he probably doesn’t want me anymore.

  But I do.

  Which is a warning sign, right there. So the longer I can keep this rolling cleaning cart between him and me, the better.

  A few more days of scouting rooms for used panties hidden in shadowy places? I can handle it if means resetting this thing between Dominic and I to normal.

  I finish the last room of my shift and go to wash up. By the time I reach the locker room, my feet are on fire and I realize I smell like disinfectant. I hope Callie remembers to pick up more wine because I seriously need it. At this rate, my internship is going to send me straight to rehab.

  Sitting on a bench near the lockers, I kick off my clunky white work shoes and rub my toes.

  “Hey, there you are!” Shauna sits on the end of the bench and slides over to me. Her cheeks are pink, eyes sparkling. She’s wearing the look of someone ready to go off about the wonders of the universe. I’m surprised to see her here so late. I knew my day would be longer, but I figured she and the other interns would be long gone.

  “You didn’t join us for lunch.” She puts her hands between her knees like she just can’t sit still.

  “I ate upstairs. I had too much work to do.”

  “I still can’t believe Edith moved you to housekeeping this week. It makes no sense.”

  It does to me, but no one else needs to know. I smile and slip into my flats. “It’s only two weeks. And it’s going fast already.”

  “You’re missing so much at the desk. Do you know who checked in today? The Ambassador to France! I stayed so Beth could show me the security procedures for handling high-profile clientele.”

  I look at her. Edith informed us the first day that certain procedures were off limits during our internship. Security was one of them. We couldn’t even have the codes for the private elevator that went to the executive offices. “She let you in on all that?”

  Shauna shrugs and drops her eyes. A slow grin crosses her face.

  “No, not really. I was supposed to be helping check in other guests, but I may have peeked a little. Do you know there’s an entirely separate computer system for handling celebrity reservations?” She leans in with a squeal. “Channing Tatum has a reservation for Friday!”

  “What? No way,” I gasp.

  She nods, then elbows me. “Maybe you’ll get to clean his room.”

  “Yes,” I roll my eyes. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate how tight I’ve pulled the hospital corners on his bed, and how the faucets in his bathroom shine.”

  She laughs. “Hey, we can dream! See you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I finish changing and grab my stuff, then head down to the staff parking garage. It stretches behind the building, a depressing concrete block. I sigh and head for my car. You can’t always get the wall-to-wall marble and chandeliers. There are a few vehicles parked in the employee section, but none around my beat up green Corolla. It’s just sitting there in the open like the geeky kid no one wants to play with. I don’t mind. Less cars mean fewer places for creepers to hide and jump out at me.

  I’ve always hated parking garages, and let’s just say watching a whole bunch of true crime TV shows haven’t made me feel any safer.

  A little chill goes down my spine. Now I’m just creeping myself out. But I increase my pace, holding my car keys with the pointy ends peeking out between my fingers, just in case. Unlocking the car, I yank the door open and am just about to hurry inside when I see the front, driver’s side tire.

  It’s completely flat, the rim sitting in a pathetic puddle. There’s some kind of glass lodged in the rubber, which I must have driven over on the way to work. Shit.

  “No way.” I stare at it a few seconds longer, as if it might magically re-inflate. My feet hurt. It’s getting darker and later by the minute, and I haven’t changed a tire since I was sixteen and my dad put me through a crash course in tire maintenance 101.

  I think about calling my dad now, but it’s a thirty minute drive from his suburban cul de sac to the city. Emily and Callie are both at work, and neither of them would be better at changing this tire than me. Out of options, I toss my bag into the car and decide to tackle it myself. Popping the trunk, I rumm
age around for the jack and spare tire, setting both onto the ground along with my keys.

  The sound of a car coming down the upper ramp catches my attention. I stop looking for the wrench thing to take the lug nuts off and glance over as the car approaches me. It’s a black Jaguar XK—I only know this because my dad commented on what body parts he’d gladly sell to get one when he saw one unveiled at a car show last summer.

  The driver downshifts, and the car purrs as it slows, pulling in right beside me. I can’t see inside through the tinted windows. My pulse picks up as I side eye my trunk, wishing I knew where that damn wrench was. Instead, I bend and grab the jack. If this guy is some random, parking garage predator, I can at least hit him over the head.

  The driver gets out and runs a hand down his tie as he faces me. I nearly drop the jack.

  “Juliet?”

  He looks amazing in a brown leather jacket over his white button down. Dark jeans cling to his legs, the tips of expensive-looking shoes shiny in the lights. It’s an exquisite contrast to the dusting of dark brown stubble that covers his jaw and chin.

  Dammit. I haven’t seen him in three days and he’s affecting me harder than he did the first time I saw him. I can hardly breathe.

  He moves closer, frowning. “You’re wearing a housekeeping uniform?”

  His question confuses me a bit. How could he not know that I’ve been reassigned? Unless he really didn’t come looking for me again—just like I suspected. “Yes, Edith reassigned me.”

  “I see.” He looks at the jack in my hand, then to my tire. “Need help?”

  Not from him. “No, thank you.”

  “You’re going to fix that yourself?” Dominic looks amused.

  “You think I can’t?” I retort.

  “I think you’ll have a hard time without a wrench,” he smirks. “Let me give you a ride.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure you have something more important to do,” I say stubbornly. I look under an emergency winter blanket and a small bag of kitty litter. Nada. Something warm presses into my lower back, stopping my movements. Dominic runs his palm in a little circle over the dip in my spine.

  He body brushes my back as he leans over me. “Nothing is more important.”