Just a Fling: A Heartthrob Hotel Novella
Page 1
Just a Fling
A Heartthrob Hotel Novella
Tabatha Kiss
Contents
Also by Tabatha Kiss
Just a Fling
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Who is Vincent?
Also by Tabatha Kiss
About the Author
Copyright © 2018 by Tabatha Kiss
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Design by Cover Me Timbers
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This novel contains explicit descriptions of erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive, including perverse adult language.
All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.
Reader discretion advised.
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Also by Tabatha Kiss
HEARTTHROB HOTEL SERIES
You can check out anytime you like,
but you’ll never want to leave!
Just a Touch
Just a Kiss
Just a Fling
OLD HABITS SERIES
Meet the Naughty Men of Clover, Kansas…
Steamy, Small Town Romances!
The Mechanic
The Milkman
RICH BITCHES SERIES
Wealth. Power. Brunch.
Pretty Little Thing
Pretty Dirty Trick
Pretty Ever After
SWEET CRAVINGS SERIES
Sugary Sweet. Sinfully Dangerous.
Muffin Top
Hot Sauce
THE SNAKE EYES SERIES
Heart-pounding romances. Interconnecting stories.
One unforgettable adventure!
Bodyguard
The Hitman’s Dancer
Love and Wargames
Bloodlines
Hard Bounty
No Fury
THE BAD BALLER BOOKS
Irresistible Sports Romances!
Whiplash
Deeper
Home Run Baby
THE MIDWEST ALPHAS
Romantic Suspense in an MMA Underworld!
Untouched
Unbroken
Undying
THE LUMBERJACK DUET
Wealth. Power. Wood.
Lumberjack BOSS
Lumberjack BRIDE
THE BELLE ACADEMY BOOKS
Steamy, sweet, and oh-so-taboo!
Ruin Me
2 in the PINK
For more, go to tabathakiss.com
* * *
Where does your favorite couple fit into
the Tabatha Kiss Universe?
Find out in the newly updated Character Map!
tabathakiss.com/charactermap
Just a Fling
By Tabatha Kiss
I knocked up my one-night stand.
But I won’t let anyone tell me that was a mistake.
Well, it started as a one-night stand.
Veronica left the morning after with a promise to come knocking on my hotel room again the next time she came through Las Vegas.
Color me surprised when she actually followed through the year after that.
And the year after that.
Is the one-night-a-year stand a thing? Because we were it.
Until last night when Veronica showed up with a baby. Our baby.
I don’t even know Veronica’s last name and now we have a child together.
I took one look into my daughter’s eyes and she had me.
I wanted all of it. The big house with the perfect family.
But Veronica isn’t convinced I’m serious.
Taking her body was the easy part.
Claiming her heart is going to be a whole lot harder.
But I’m in.
One
Ira
I glance at the clock on my desk. 3:45 PM.
Five hours, fifteen minutes to go.
“So, you and Jen will be here on Friday?” I ask into my phone.
“Yeah,” Graham answers, “but we’re not staying at the hotel.”
“No?”
“No. Mom insisted on the two of us staying at the house. Says she wants some long overdue girl time with Jen.”
“Uh-oh.” I chortle as I center a stack of paperwork on my desk. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Jen’s pretty nervous about it,” he says. “I told her it’d be fine. Mom liked her ten years ago, she’s gonna like her now.”
“Mom didn’t like Jen ten years ago,” I say.
Graham pauses. “Wait, what?”
“Her mom used to date our dad. Jen’s the other woman by extension.”
He laughs. “That’s not true. No way is Mom that shallow. Besides, that was thirty years ago. It’ll be fine.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“I’m more worried about finding a birthday gift good enough to make up for the fact that I got married without inviting her. Again.”
I wince. “Yeah, that’s gonna be difficult. Good luck, bro.”
“What are you getting her?”
“Like I’d tell you.”
He snorts. “You have no idea.”
I deflate. “Not a one.”
“Is that fear I hear in your voice, little brother?” he teases.
“No. Not fear. I’ve disabled bombs in active war zones. I can handle getting my mother a birthday gift.”
“Sure.”
I squint in defense. “You’re just mad you’re gonna lose again this year.”
He laughs. “Dude, as long as Jonah exists, we all lose.”
“Yeah, you’re right. The kid must be stopped.”
“How exactly are we supposed to compete with a guy who can just write and dedicate a new song to her every year?” he asks. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s really not.” I lean back in my chair. “Have you heard from Hayden? What’s he getting for her?”
“He’s bringing home a steady girlfriend for the first time ever,” he says. “He’s already got a leg up.”
“She’s been asking him for that since he was fifteen.”
“I know.”
“Well, shit.” I sigh. “Hey, isn’t it a little unhealthy for four full-grown men to compete over their mother’s affection like this?”
“Probably.”
I look forward as a woman passes by my office door wearing a white apron beneath a fierce, fire-red ponytail. “Hey, Graham, I gotta call you back,” I say as I stand.
“Sure. I have a conference call with dad and Stella in a few minutes so I’ll text you later.”
“Anything juicy?”
“Oh, yeah. If you’re really into Canadian building regulations.�
�
“Not today.”
“Then, nah.”
I chuckle. “Talk to you later.”
“Bye, Ira.”
I hang up and step out into the hallway, quickly finding the woman before she bolts through into the lobby. “Faye,” I say, getting her attention. “Hold on a second.”
Faye pauses in the hall and exhales. “Hi, Ira,” she says as she wipes a bit of sweat off her shiny brow. “What’s up?”
I close my office door and stride toward her. “You got a minute?”
She nods. “Got two for you. Mostly gives me an excuse to catch my breath, so don’t take it personal or nothing.”
I chuckle. “Busy day?”
“Busy week,” she says, casting a quick glare at the door behind me marked Building Manager. “Still haven’t managed to convince Oli to let me hire another housekeeper, so we’re a little short-staffed.”
“Did you try rubbing his chin?” I quip.
“Hoping to exhaust Plan A first,” she says.
“Good call.”
“Did you need something?”
I nod. “Yeah. I understand you’re busy but could you send someone up to my room today?” I ask. “I don’t need a full cleaning. Just a few extra towels, maybe some fresh linens and—”
“Ohhh,” she says with a smile. “It’s that time of year already?”
“What time of year?”
“For Towel Girl.”
I blink. “Towel Girl?”
“Yeah, Towel Girl.”
“Who’s Towel Girl?”
“You tell me.”
I glare at her seductive wink. “What are you talking about, Faye?” I ask.
She scoffs. “Every year, the second week in September, you request to have extra towels delivered to your room.”
I lean back, nervously. “No, I don’t.”
“The first year?” She shrugs. “Whatever. Guy wants some towels. The second year? Still not very noticeable. Dude wants towels. The third year?” Her brow rises. “Hold on, now. There’s a pattern forming here.”
I sigh. Crap. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Last year, I looked at the calendar and thought, is Ira going to ask me for extra towels today? And, low and behold, you stopped me in this very hallway—”
“Faye, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Now that you’ve once again submitted the exact same request for the fourth year in a row, I can only conclude that you have an annual visitor who just might need some freshening up.”
“Hence the moniker,” I say.
“Precisely.” She presses her painted lips together. “So, who’s the girl?” she asks.
“I never confirmed a girl.”
“You never denied one either.”
“On second thought,” I shift to the side, “I’ll run downstairs and get the towels myself.”
Faye juts in front of me. “Is she pretty? I bet she’s pretty.”
“No, because there’s no girl,” I say.
“Blonde? Redhead?” She squints. “Always pictured with you a redhead.”
“Like you?”
She snorts. “In your dreams.”
I try to move around her but she slides in front of me again. “Faye...” I murmur.
Her jaw drops. “Is it a Towel Boy?”
I stop. “No, she’s not—”
She points a victory finger at my face. “A-HA! So, there is a Towel Girl!”
I deflate in annoyance as Oliver steps out of his office behind me.
“Hey, guys.” He pauses when he sees my face. “What’s going on?”
Faye smirks. “Nothing. Ira here was just requesting some extra towels.”
Oliver perks up. “It’s September already?”
I bite down. “Seriously?”
“I just got him to admit there’s a girl,” Faye says, grinning wildly.
Oliver snorts. “Of course, there’s a girl. We already knew that.”
“Yeah, but he said it.”
He looks at me. “Say it again, Ira.”
“Yeah, Ira,” she says. “Say it again.”
I glare into their wicked faces. “What do you mean, we already knew that?” I ask.
“Well...” Oliver clears his throat and runs a hand through his dark hair. “It starts with towels. Then, at noon sharp, you take an extended lunch break to hit the fitness center for a little extra pump.”
“Which,” Faye points at me again, “you did do today.”
Oliver nods. “Then, at five PM sharp, you go get dinner in the dining room. Something light.”
“Some soup,” she says.
“Or a salad.”
“Salmon and rice, perhaps.”
“Then,” Oliver smiles, “you fiddle around in your office a bit before retiring to your room but at eight-thirty PM—”
“Sharp!” Faye interjects.
“—you call down to room service and have Gloria send you up a bottle of champagne.”
Faye holds up two fingers. “With two glasses!” she shouts.
My glare deepens. “Okay, fine. There’s a girl.”
“Boom!” Oliver holds up his palm. “Up top, Faye.”
She gives him a high-five and the two settle in into their smug formation again.
I shake my head. “Though, I’m not sure how I feel about the staff prying into my private business like this.”
They burst out laughing. I watch their hyena smiles, growing more annoyed with each loud, cackling second.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“You don’t know how you feel about the staff prying into your private business?” Faye repeats. “Come on, Ira. You can’t be serious.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“You’re the biggest gossip in this entire building, man,” Oliver says.
I take a step back. “I am not!”
“Yes, you are!” they claim in unison.
“Seriously, Ira,” Faye says. “I get more dirt from you here in the hallway than I pick out from under my fingernails in a year.”
I chuckle. “Oh, it’s not that bad.”
They laugh again and I sigh.
Oliver wipes his eyes. “I gotta get back to work.”
Faye waves. “Bye, Oli.”
I give him a nod as he passes and his deep cackle echoes over my shoulder as he heads toward the lobby.
“Okay. Whatever,” I say. “I might hear a thing or two and pass it on in conversation. Sometimes. This is a very social work environment.”
“Right.” Faye nods. “A social work environment in which you know absolutely everything about everyone else and no one knows a thing about you.”
“That’s not true,” I say. “You know plenty, as proven by the extremely detailed and partially creepy recount of my schedule I was just subjected to.”
“Which had to be compiled with random snippets of information gathered by a wacky band of misfits over a period of four years because you don’t talk to anybody about yourself.”
I turn up my hands. “My life is an open book, Faye.”
“Then, prove it,” she says.
“What do you want to know?”
She cocks her head suspiciously. “You serious?”
I take a step back. “Going once...”
“Okay, wait, wait—” She throws her hand up to stop me and bites her cheek in thought. “Tell me about Towel Girl.”
I sigh. Of course, she’d go right for that.
“We met overseas,” I answer.
Her brow rises. “She’s military?”
“Peace Corps.”
She hums softly. “Cool.”
“My unit was partnered with some Navy SEALs out in redacted location where we liberated several villages from a few... radical factions.”
Her eyes widen. “God, you’re a badass,” she whispers with awe.
“She arrived a short time after to provide medical aid,” I say.
“For you?”
<
br /> “No, the locals.”
“She’s a doctor?” she asks.
“Nurse, technically.”
“And you two hit it off? A little witty banter here? Some hanky-panky in the tents there?”
I shake my head. “No. We were professionals. We did our jobs. I moved on to the next assignment with my unit a few weeks later and she stuck around there for a while, I think. Never did ask.”
“So, how did she become Towel Girl?” she asks.
“Well, as you’ve cleverly deduced, a little over four years ago, I left the Marines and came home. Started working here.”
She leans in. “Uh-huh.”
“Hayden and I were hitting the blackjack tables over at Caesar’s one night when I spotted a familiar face about three seats down from ours.”
“Towel Girl?”
I nod. “She was in town for a medical conference.”
“A little witty banter here?” she hints.
“Some hanky-panky upstairs,” I say. “Yes.”
Faye swoons. “That’s so cute.”
“The next morning, I called down and asked you for some extra towels so my unexpected guest could freshen up.”
“Guy wants some towels,” she repeats with a shrug.