Around the World in 80 Men Series Boxed Set 1-10

by Brandi Ratliff

  “What floor?” he asked her, not really expecting a response, she held up four fingers in his face. “Okay, four it is.”

  Morgan reached down into her pocket and pulled out the little key and handed it to the man, “One-fortay-five,” she told him. He looked down at the key and shook his head. Not even close, he thought.

  He got her to her room, and helped her inside. When she said she didn't need anything, he left her be, with the suggestion she stay in the room. Although, he imagined he would likely see her back at the bar in five minutes. They always come back down.

  The young girl got up from her bed the second her door was closed behind the man who helped her in, and she skipped over to her phone that was still plugged into the charger. She plucked the cord out and held the green button to turn it on.

  “Whoa, four voice mails?” Morgan questioned her phone. “Must be super important,” she told herself.

  After a running jump and a cannonball onto her bed, she crossed her legs into her usual phone call position and pressed the green button twice to call Julianne.

  “Young lady, I have been trying to call you all day! Are you okay? Did you get my voice messages? Have you seen Finlay yet?” Julianne machine-gunned questions at Morgan.

  Morgan burst out laughing at her Madam's questions. “Finlay!? That stupid son-of-a-bitch didn't even show up! I sat there in the airport, all cold, getting hit on by creepy boy next door, who asked me if I could “repay” him,” Morgan made a half-set of invisible quotes this time with her free hand.

  “Morgan, listen to me,” Julianne interrupted the rambling.

  “And then I get to this place,” as if Julianne had any idea of what Morgan was talking about, “and now I'm warm, but I saw creepy dude again, and I was all, shut my fucking door, and he did! And now I'm tal...”

  “Morgan! Shut up! Finlay's flight got delayed. He's at the airport looking for you right now. Where are you?” Julianne continued.

  “Well, ain't that a bitcheroo? I wonder what it feels like? Ohhhhh! Wait! I do know what that feels like!” Morgan only replied to the “Finlay is looking for you” part.

  “Dear, where are you?” Julianne tried a new approach, speaking sweetly to the young girl.

  “Hmm, I don't know,” Morgan truthfully responded. She threw her legs from the side of the bed, and staggered over to the window, tripping over her shoes along the way, “shit,” she cursed at the black pumps that she wore the night prior.

  After she drew the curtains, she told Julianne the first thing that she saw, an Indian carry-out place. She also told Julianne that she wasn't far from the airport.

  “I'll need a bit more information than that, Morgan.” Julianne's voice maintained a level of calm but the older woman wanted to jump through the phone and shake the booze from the young girl.

  “Okay dokie...let me see..Oh! There's a booklet here, a thick one! Let me look,” Morgan turned the book and read it, “I'm staying at Holy Bible.” After the words left her mouth, Morgan realized what she had just read. “HAHAHAHA I said Holy Bible! I'm not staying at the Bible!” Morgan, who had at the point started snorting in uncontrollable laughter, rifled through the papers on the bedside stand. “Here's one, Saint something, wait, I can't see. Oh, maybe that's part of the Bible.”

  Julianne instantly knew where Morgan was staying. “Alright, he'll find you sweetheart. Just get some rest, and I'll talk to you tomorrow.” The call had ended.

  “Sure, I'll get some rest. But first, I have GOT to pee!”

  Within minutes, Morgan found herself back down at the bar and within another twenty minutes, she had downed two more glasses of her wine, finishing the whole bottle.

  “I...would like...hey, are you list....hey, I would like another.....” Morgan pointed at her empty bottle to the bartender.

  The bartender just smiled, and turned his back on the drunk girl. “Hey, but...I...hey!” She smacked her hand down on the bar. “Shit, that hurt!”

  “Lass, let me take ye to your room.” Morgan heard the voice behind her, and answered.

  “Nope. Noey, no, no. I'm...just..I'm here..and I'm staying...here.”

  The voice continued, “Morgan, let me take ye to yer room. The barkeep won't serve ye anything more.” Those words got her attention. She turned around to face the bearer of bad news.

  When she faced him, she forgot to ask how he knew her name. “Damn! Look at you! You're...big...and all...like...big! And you...oh..you're big!”

  “Aye, lass. I'm big. Now let's get ye to yer room.” Mystery man held out his hand, and offered to help her up.

  “You said 'aye!' Morgan laughed, then added, “it's...Scottish...and..Oh! I'm in Scotland..did you know that? Mr. Big Man...making me...leave.”

  “Aye, I ken.” Morgan opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her, “aye, I said aye again. Let's go.”

  They made it as far as the elevator, and Morgan tripped on her own foot. He caught her quickly, and picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, he pushed the elevator button. “What floor, lass?”

  She didn't answer, her drunken mind had already planned her escape. She would go to her room, then let him leave. Afterward, she would sneak out again. It sounded familiar she thought, and also, that it would totally work.

  The man wasn't going to wait for an answer any longer. He felt her back pocket, and found the key. He reached in with two fingers, and pulled it out, holding it in front of both of them.

  “Hey! You....you put your...hand in my butt! That's mine!” Morgan tried to grab her key, but he moved it out of the way.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, and hoped that she was incredibly heavy to carry. “I hope that...that...you drop me.” That would do it, he could drop her, then she could run back to the bar.

  The man laughed loudly in the elevator, as the doors opened. They walked through, and his long legs got them to her room within seconds. He put her down in front of her door, and she nearly fell again. Holding her with one arm, he managed the door with the other. When it was open, he picked her up again and carried her through.

  Morgan was merely minutes from passing out, he knew it. So he put her down on the bed, and removed her shoes. Then he covered the drunken girl with the comforter, and moved her hair from the front of her face.

  She looked up at him, his face seemingly moving from side to side. “You're cute. So cute. What's your name?” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke.

  Her eyes closed, and he knew she had gone instantly to sleep.

  “Finlay, lass. My name is Finlay.”

  Scotland

  Book Two

  Chapter One

  Without a doubt, Morgan had to have been the most beautiful woman Julianne had ever sent him. He had used Julianne's service for the last several years, and while each of the women had been incredibly beautiful, they didn't hold a candle to the young blonde.

  Finlay made a mental note that if the week went well, he would try to talk Julianne into making an exception, breaking her rule that the women were always to choose the man, and he would request Morgan for future companionship.

  Morgan flipped over with a small groan, and crawled to the side of the bed, holding on the edge for support, she leaned over, holding her head parallel with the ground.

  “Oh, lass, no, no, no,” Finlay quickly stood and ran to her side, grabbing a waste can along the way. He held it under her chin and placed his hand on her back and told her she was okay. Morgan didn't even look up at the gorgeous man. She only pushed herself back on the bed and curled her legs into her chest, instantly falling back asleep.

  The tall man sat himself on the edge of the bed next to the young girl and slowly pulled the comforter over her again. Close call, he sighed with relief. He pushed the long hair from her face once more and slowly stood up.

  Weary of any more false alarms, or real ones for that matter, he took his phone into the hallway and ordered room service, settling on the chi
cken as well. He didn't want to risk going downstairs and leaving her alone.

  He pulled a green upholstered chair beside the bed and parked himself on the worn seat. With his head propped on his fists, he continued to admire Morgan's beauty.

  Mascara had flaked around her eyes, leaving dark circles down to her cheekbones, and no evidence of her long-lasting lipstick remained on her full lips. Her hair had been windblown to hell and back and through her drunken evening, she had gotten cold again and donned a business jacket over her tank top, which didn't exactly match well with her white jeans.

  Finlay chuckled to himself, even through all of that, she still managed to look stunning, and he looked forward to seeing her in her normal state. “Aye, you're beautiful, Morgan.”

  After he finished his meal, he pulled the chair back, replacing its spot with the little white waste basket, and pulled the ugly green seat to the other side of the room so he could rest his head against the wall.

  On the way back to his temporary sleeping arrangement, a sharp crack under his shoe got his attention. When he bent down to investigate what he had broken, he saw he had shattered one of her makeup compacts. He also noticed the slue of clothing, shoes and accessories scattered about the room. He had been so concerned with the young girl before, he hadn't noticed the confetti of womanly items all over the floor.

  He shook his head with a grin and began to gather all of the items from the floor. After all, it's my fault the lass drank so much.

  After picking up several items with the tags still attached, he quickly scanned the rest of the clothing. Tag, tag, tag....tag, tag. They were all new, every last piece. Except, what's this?

  A yellow shirt had wrapped itself around his foot as he walked around the edge of the bed. When he retrieved the article, a bellowing laugh exploded from the thirty-four year old as he held it out in front of him. Morgan rustled and Finlay put his hand over his mouth to not disturb her, but the muffled laughter continued.

  He couldn't help it. He imagined the blonde bombshell in her yellow nightshirt. Funny, she seemed more like a rose or tulip girl, he didn't take her for a sunflower kind of woman. After a long breathless sigh, he finally controlled his laughter and loosely folded the garment, sticking it back into her suitcase with the rest of her belongings.

  The bumblebee shirt seemed to have been the only 'old' thing in her whole suitcase. Finlay furrowed his brows as he discovered how new Morgan was. Very new. Brand new, in fact. He realized he was most likely her first client, and he decided he would take it easy on the young woman, making her as comfortable as possible throughout the trip.

  He felt privileged that he was first. She could have been put with a real asshole, and that would have ruined everything for her. Yes, he would treat her like a princess, and nothing less. All of Julianne's clients expected the very best treatment anyway. He was sure Morgan didn't expect it like the others, which made her all the more appealing.

  He had already admired her carefree attitude and her spunk. Thinking back on his other rendezvous', he couldn't even remember one that had even made him laugh. They were always polite, said the right things, stopped themselves after two glasses of wine.

  Morgan hadn't even realized who he was, and already she had made an impact. The last woman Julianne had sent him was a gorgeous brunette named, Christina. Huge tits, tiny waist, perfect hair, great in bed. Whew, she could suck a mean....

  The problem? Finlay had spent the whole week trying to get the stick out her ass. Not just a stick, it was like a whole fuckin' log had lodged itself in there.

  She was good for an arm trophy, and some fun in the sheets, but for her it had been strictly business. Finlay couldn't blame her, Julianne was highly professional, and after all, he got exactly what she was hired for.

  But Morgan. No, Morgan was different. He looked at the young lady, oh, she'll be hurtin' the 'morrow. He closed his eyes, and laid his head back against the wall.

  Standing at six-foot-four, the large man found little comfort in the tiny hotel chair. The whole ordeal brought another smile to his face. Not his usual accommodations, that's for sure.

  At a ripe age of twenty-two, Mr. Finlay Campbell had invested his last dollars into a run down building in downtown Edinburgh. Everyone told him he was foolish for the decision and was only wasting his time and money. Finlay spent all of that summer, into the fall and halfway through winter restoring the place at the work of his own hands. He had knocked down and replaced half a dozen walls, gave the place a fresh coat of paint, new carpeting, plumbing and windows, and topped it off by adding a sidewalk.

  He worked odd jobs with any free time he had, to make any additional money needed for the repairs, and by spring, he had his first client offer his a decent sum of money to rent out the place. By fall, he had all of his money back, plus enough to start the process with a second building. There birthed the addiction. Finlay learned at a young age that hard work paid off. He eventually bought buildings all over the UK, renovating them and opening his own hotel chain.

  Now, in the St. something hotel, one might laugh to see the millionaire sleeping on a chair, and his call girl having the bed to herself, but the handsome Scot didn't mind much. It was only for one night, tomorrow, he would take her to his home.

  The restless man tried propping his feet on the edge of the bed, back to the floor, then finally to higher ground, he found more comfort with his feet crossed atop the little desk. He scooted his buns of steel to the edge of the seat, making room for him to lean back and align his head with the top of the chair. Finally, in a suitable position, his eyes closed and before the pizza commercial ended on the television, he was fast asleep.

  *****

  “Ah, shit.” Morgan grabbed her head with both hands as she sat up in bed. It took her several seconds to remember where she was, but it would take much longer than that to remember what she had done the night before. As she looked around the room, she tried to remember how she got back. The last thing she remembered was making her way back to the bar for the second time.

  When her mascara drip n' dried eyes made their way to the left, she let out a loud gasp that woke Finlay much more quickly than was needed. The large man shot up, waist only, and he fell just enough to the side to start losing his balance completely. He flailed his arms around his body, but with no arm rests, he had nothing to grab but the air around him. And in seemingly slow motion, he looked to Morgan's wide eyed expression, and fell solid to the floor in a loud thump that made even the bed shake.

  Morgan was in shock, she had no idea who the man way or why he was in her room. She tried to make her brain work, but it was far too muddled to offer her anything that she searched for. So she chose, “Oh my god, oh my god!” With her hands at her mouth, she sunk lower into the bed.

  Finlay sat up, yet still on the floor, “is that all you'll say then?” He half smiled at the girl, and started to stand.

  “Uhm, yes. I think.” She ducked even lower when Finlay stood beside the bed. “I...should I thank you or throw something at you?” Her eyes still wide, a subtle recognition started to take over. No...oh shit...no!!!! It's him!

  He watched the realization play over her features, and he playfully crossed his arms over his chest and smiled down at her. “Aye, Morgan. I'm Finlay.” He stayed in the towering position as he waited for her response.

  Morgan threw herself backward onto the pillow, and pulled the blanket up over her head. “I'm sorry,” her muffled voice made him stifle his growing laughter. “Seriously, I'm so sorry. Please, give me a minute to get up and get myself together.”

  He wanted to stay right where he was, to enjoy the redness that had surely taken over her beautiful features by then. But Finlay was still a gentleman, and he agreed. “I'll go down and get us breakfast, take yer time lass.” She heard him laughing as he walked across the room. Morgan heard slight rustling, then the door opened, and closed.

  She let out a long sigh, and was mentally rehearsin
g her more formal apology when she removed the blanket to get up. Just as she put her feet on the floor...

  “You'll need something for that headache, I'll send someone up with something.”

  Morgan nearly jumped out of her skin, then covered her face when she saw him standing by the door. His laughter was what she heard when he truly left.

  Peeking through her fingers to make sure he was gone, she saw that she was alone. “I'm such an idiot! What am I going to tell Julianne? I don't think he's mad at me, but he might be disappointed. Oh shit! Double shit!” She stood slowly, and grabbed her head again as she made her way to the bathroom. Before she could get there, however, a woman knocked and opened the door just enough to announce her presence.

  “I 'ave somethin' for ye, hen.” Morgan walked to the door, and tried to smile. Her face looked more like a grimace, but it was the best she could do. The young woman handed her two small packs of pain relievers, then bid Morgan a good day.

  Downing the pills quickly, she could only think about a hot shower and a good apology. One thing was for certain, she had a lot of making up to do with Mr. Campbell.

  As Morgan stood in the shower, the hot water brought a genuine moan of pleasure at the feel of her body relaxing with each caress that the steaming streams offered. She slowly lathered her hair, and thought of how nice it was that she didn't have to complete her shower in three minutes or less. Her apartment, make that prior apartment, seemed to share one small hot water tank between all of the units. It was a challenge when she first moved in, but she became a pro at cleaning herself in two minutes flat.

  Hair rinsed, she moved on to a large helping of conditioner, and shaved her legs as it worked its magic on her hair. After all of her parts were cleaned, shaved, or conditioned, she stepped out of the shower and onto the extra thick rug in front of the tub. She wrapped the large hotel towel around her body, and tucked the corner in at the top.