“Wait!” I hold up my hands. “I don’t want to know anymore. I’ll just question him tomorrow.”
“Fair enough.” Latoya shrugs. “But if your interrogation gets you the same information I already have, you better pop your pussy on that man…”
Keri looks skyward. “Latoya! Your mouth is so terrible. What’s so hard with saying ‘seduce’ him?” She looks at me. “I hate to admit it, but I agree. He’s extra hot and a sweetheart so far. Worse case, he likes to play the field. I can think of worse ways to get back in the groove.”
“Here we are again,” I say with a yawn. “The jump Axel campaign. I don’t see yall jumping anyone.”
Latoya rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it isn’t from lack of trying. If I was in your shoes, Axel would be in a sex coma by now.”
We opted to order our food for room service. We jump on the elevator and LaToya’s crimson nail tries to press the eleven. The elevator beeps asking for a key card.
“Bitch, he’s fancy. You can’t get to his floor without VIP access,” she coos, impressed. “He definitely has some money.”
I shrug. It is impressive, but I’m not particularly broke either. Yes, I have to save for an expensive trip, but I’m not living paycheck to paycheck either. I can take care of myself.
“I’m not worried about the money; I need to know if he has a girlfriend.”
Axel
I take a deep stretch in this cloud they call a bed. The morning sun illuminates my half-naked body, and I try in vain to ignore the pain in my dick. That kiss propelled me into the sexually frustrated category. I remember it in flashes. The way her soft lips tasted like Pina Coladas, the feel of her plush breasts against my chest, the way she moaned against me.
I kick the covers off my legs and adjust myself in my underwear. I refuse to jack off like a teenager. I just need Heaven’s naked body here with me. I’d pull her down on my cock and tell her to go for it. I’d love to watch her pleasure herself while her tits bounced with her efforts. I groan when my cock hardens, I really need to reroute my train of thought.
I get a reprieve when the phone rings.
“Hello?” I rasp into the phone, my voice still rough from sleep since I haven’t used it yet.
“Oh sorry. Did I wake you?” I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
“No, I was just thinking about you,” I admit huskily, not trying to hide my meaning.
“Oh…um,” she stutters, and I know she understands. “I’m checking to see if you wanted to join me for breakfast…”
“Yup. I’ll climb out of bed and get ready. Will the girls be joining us?”
“No, they left to go scuba diving. I’ll get ready and see you in a bit.”
The line goes dead, and I complete my morning routine in record time. Once I’m groomed and dressed in a tank top and shorts, my flip flops and I saunter to the elevators. I tap the silver, floor one button, and wait for the descent. I’m calm on the outside, but my blood pumps in my veins as if I’m power walking. I’m excited to see her, and yet, worried about the unknown. What if the kiss freaked her out, and this breakfast is a faux break-up. I push my nerves aside and refocus my center. I am a successful businessman with a little over one-hundred employees, surely I can handle a breakfast date with a woman I’ve only known for a few days. The elevator pauses on the eighth floor. I stand up straight and dry my damp palms on my shorts. I have no idea which floor is housing Heaven, but I want to look cool and casual just in case.
My shoulders deflate when the doors slide open to reveal…not Heaven. She would be cute if I hadn’t met Heaven first. Hispanic girl, about 5’4”, big brown eyes, pouty lips, and waist-length hair highlighted with light brown and blonde. Her eyes grow bigger when she sees me, and she puts on what I would assume is her flirty face. I smile because it is the gentlemanly thing to do, but I would love for this damn metal box to zoom to the first floor.
She stands closer to me than necessary since we are the only occupants. Her perfume is just perfume; I don’t like it, and I don’t hate it.
“Wow. You’re tall,” she points out as an opening. It’s one I’m used to hearing. “Are you an athlete?”
Yup, she’s two for two. “Only recreationally,” I respond while trying to keep my tone from sounding curt.
“A model then?”
Now, she’s three for three. Look, no one is going to be too offended for being mistaken for a model. The only thing that aggravates me is the natural assumption that tall people are either models or athletes. I repeat that it’s not her fault in my brain. I’m sure she is a nice girl, but I’m anxious to see Heaven.
The elevator pauses at three. FUCKING SHIT. As if this ride wasn’t already unbearable, Dre and Ashley step on as well.
“Nope. Not a model either,” I answer her while completely ignoring the new passengers. If I believed pressing the number one button continuously would help the elevator move faster, I would be trying it right now.
She sticks her chest out to draw my eyes to her cleavage as if she isn’t already wearing a small bikini. “It’s hard to believe…” she coos as she touches my bicep, “that a man could look like you and not be a model, athlete, or actor…”
“I can assure you I’m none of the above,” I retort quickly, not bothering to look down at her.
