“I’ll meet you down here for lunch in a bit,” I explain, slinging my bag over one shoulder. I pin my eyes on Natalia, whispering in her ear as Luca grabs his bag. “Tell them you want the Heritage Suite.”
“Why?” she asks a little too loudly.
I grit my teeth. “Just do it.”
And then I walk away, the bulge in my pants more painful with every step.
24
Natalia
After Luca checksus in and tells me to get ready for our lunch meeting, I take the stairs up three flights. Apparently, a place this old has no elevator. I’m embarrassed by how out of breath I am by the time we get to the third story, and Luca walks in the opposite direction—leaving me to search for the Heritage Suite alone, since Anderson is nowhere to be found. Luca had given me an inquisitive look when I asked for the suite, and I’d tried to play it cool by saying I’d looked up the different rooms before the trip. He grumbled about the higher price but wouldn’t entertain the idea of me paying for myself.
As I meander down the dark hallway, I slowly read the room names until I find the room I’m looking for.
I insert my skeleton key into the keyhole, pushing the heavy door open. Once inside, I admire the ornate furniture and touches of detail. A single rose sits in an old milk jug on the nightstand, and next to it, a leather notepad and fountain pen. The bed itself is a four-poster, with crisp, white linens and dark wood features throughout the room. I glance into the bathroom and raise my eyebrows when I see a restored clawfoot tub. Is this why Anderson wanted me to have this room? Because it’s fancy and perfect? Maybe it’s his idea of a peace offering. Smiling, I set my bag down and fall onto the bed, my hand instantly roving to the area between my legs.
My leggings are still damp.Awesome.Fucking Anderson. That fucking prick. I should’ve known—should’ve known how much my body would react to his filthy mouth. After Harry Potter World, I should’ve been clued in, and maybe given myself the upper hand. Because that’s what bothers me so much about this whole situation. The ball is always in his court. I’m constantly waiting for him to say or do something—to give me a clue or a sign. But I’m done. I’m not the girl he can fuck around with, the girl he kisses in the dark and can hand hump in the sky. He’s messing with my head.
I deserve better.
I quickly change into a form-fitting dress. I take my time applying makeup, giving myself bold, red lips. It’s warm today, so I don’t need a jacket, and instead slip into my favorite pair of strappy stilettos. They put me over six feet. A rather large part of me enjoys towering over people and being the same height as Luca. It makes me feel like we’re on equal playing fields.
I pin my hair into a loose bun, and as I check the time, I hear a sound from one of the walls. My heart nearly stops. I slowly walk over to the door of the adjoining room. How did I not notice or realize before? Of course, he would ask me to get the adjoining room. It made sense after Maui.
I run my hand over the wood and put my ear against it, but I hear nothing. I grab the handle and turn it slowly, praying to whatever deity exists that I’m not breaking and entering into someone else’s room. As I ease the door open less than an inch, another room comes into view—a room identical to mine. And on the bed is Anderson.
Lying back.
Shirtless.
With his dress pants unzipped.
And he’s…
I can’t look away as he strokes his cock. His head is back, eyes looking up at the ceiling, bottom lip between his teeth as he pumps faster. His abs are chiseled out of stone, and they undulate with every movement. And his biceps? The arm jerking himself is rigid, the veins running down to his fingers.
Holy gods.
I take in a sharp inhale, closing the door to a slit so that he doesn’t see me. Wetness pools between my legs, and at this rate, I’m going to need to buy new underwear. My face burns as I open the door a tiny bit wider, taking in the vision of Anderson pleasuring himself. His breathing is uneven, and then he lets out a low moan—a sound that travels from my ears straight to my core, my clit pulsing as I watch him. I cross my legs and squeeze them together to stop my reaction. I should stop watching, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
And then he thrusts his hips upward, meeting every stroke of his hand with a thrust of his hips, and I continue to watch, enamored. My mouth opens as his pace quickens, and my pulse matches his tempo. The blood is throbbing in my veins. Any small movement against the swollen spot between my legs will set me off. If I reached down and slid a finger in, I would be a goner. My breath hitches as my hand trails down, and as I move two fingers against myself, Anderson explodes.
“Fuck,” he hisses, looking down at his cock as he jerks and shudders, his hand a mess. “Fuck,” he repeats, falling back.
I quickly close the door before he sees me, and I don’t think before I lie back on my own bed. As I’m about to pull my dress up for somemetime, a knock sounds at my door. I stiffen.
“Who is it?”
“It’s eleven forty-five,” Luca answers. “Lunch is at twelve? I’ve been waiting for you guys. I thought we were meeting fifteen minutes ago.”
Fuck.
I take a couple of deep breaths before opening the door.
“You okay?” he asks, waltzing in.
I bite my bottom lip and look around—as if my arousal left visible evidence.
