Home > Trouble(16)

Trouble(16)
Author: Samantha Towle

The gun pushed harder against my head. “Oliver!” he yelled. “You know to address me only as sir or daddy! How many times do I have to tell you this? How many lessons will it take?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I’m so stupid.

The gun retracted.

“I’m s-sorry, s-sir—d-daddy.” My voice was shaking as hard as my body because I knew what would come next.

And my fear was confirmed when I heard the familiar snap of his belt.

“I’m totally kidding. I don’t have a gun here.” The sound of Tattooed Adonis’ voice brings me to the now.

I need to be sick. Fear and bad memories are creeping across my skin, standing every hair on end.

I’m trying to stay calm. Stay normal. I don’t want to freak out in front of this guy, but it’s getting increasingly hard.

He lifts his hands in a gentle gesture. “No guns. I promise. No need for them, like I said, it’s a safe place.”

Breathing in through my nose, I pull on my lip and tuck my short hair behind my ear.

“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step forward.

No.

Be strong. Stay here. You can do this, Mia.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

His stare on me is curious. Can’t blame him. I am acting like a nutball.

“Okay, well if you need anything, just press reception on the phone in your room and it’ll bring you straight through to me.” He turns to leave. “Goodnight, Mia.”

“How do you know my name?”

Looking back, his eyebrow lifts. “I got it from your details when you filled the booking form in.”

He smiles. It’s a really nice smile. Warm. Friendly. It eases me some.

“Oh, right. Yes.” I laugh, feeling a little stupid. “What should I call you?”

He smiles again. “Jordan.”

I turn to face him. “Is this your hotel, Jordan?”

He laughs. It’s a deep, manly sound that makes my stomach do somersaults. “No. My dad’s. He’s away taking care of my Grandpa at the moment, so I’m holding the fort.”

“Oh, nothing serious I hope?”

“No, just a minor op, but he’s off his feet for a few weeks, so Dad’s gone to take care of him.”

I nod. “Well, thank you. Again.” I smile at him as I back up and quickly retreat into my room.

I lock the door behind me and fall against it.

Deep breaths, Mia.

This is going to be okay. And apart from his snippiness before, Jordan does seem like a good guy.

Yeah, but so did Forbes.

I grab the chair I just spotted by the dressing table, drag it over to the door, and push it up under the handle.

Doesn’t hurt to be safe.

Turning, I take the room in for the first time. Really pretty. A four poster bed dressed in soft beige linens rests against the back wall. A large window is situated to the side, and on the far wall there are double glass doors. I go over to the doors and push the drapes back to peer out. I can’t see much; just the porch and the moonlight pouring over trees in the distance. I’ll check it out in the morning.

I double check that the doors are locked, then close the drapes, including the ones on the windows.

I stand in the middle of the room. The silence chills me, and my mind starts to overwork again.

Fear curdles inside and poisons me.

And I can’t stop myself from walking straight to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet, lifting the lid, and purging.

Chapter Five

Jordan

A few hours earlier…

I climb out of bed. Removing the condom, I tie a knot in the end and toss it in the trashcan. Grabbing my jeans from the floor, I start to pull them on.

“Stay in bed with me.” Shawna’s hand sneaks out from under the cover and grabs hold of my hand, tugging on it.

I pull it free. “Can’t. I’ve got work to do. And I need to get this bed made up.”

That’s a lie. There’s not a lot to do here at the moment. We need guests to create work, and currently there aren’t any, so the world won’t end if this bed stays unmade for a while longer. I just don’t want to stay in bed with her and cuddle.

Because that’s what she’s asking. She doesn’t have to say the exact words. I just know when it reaches this point with a woman.

And that’s when I’m done.

I’m not a cuddler.

I f**k.

The end.

She knows this. I told her right before we started having sex how it was. Like I tell them all. It’s just a shame they don’t bother to listen, regardless of how heavily I highlight the fact.

Guess it’s time to put the brakes on this little thing we’ve had going. Shame. She was pretty good in the sack.

I’m just pulling my t-shirt on when she climbs out of bed.

I watch her walk toward me. I might be about to call time on her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate her fine body – legs that go on forever, and tits that are definitely not real. Still, I wasn’t complaining when I had them in my mouth ten minutes ago.

She presses herself up against me. Arms snaking around my waist, she starts to kiss my neck. “I want to f**k again,” she murmurs against my skin.

Tempting as that is, just knowing what’s going on inside her head—the words ‘Jordan’ and ‘boyfriend’—keeps my boy at bay.

You might think I’m a bastard for just having sex with her and then calling time, and really that wasn’t my intention when I crawled into bed with her an hour ago. I’d thought there were a few more times to be had.

   
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