Emme took the bikini back to Tiago on reception, who removed the tags and handed it, along with a towel, flipflops and robe, to Emme, and walked her in the direction of the lift. As he pressed the lift button and they waited, a long-legged woman wearing tight black jodhpurs, boots, a black polo neck and a fur coat stormed into the hotel with such fervency it was as though a gale had blown in.
‘You!’ she barked at Magali on the desk, as she whipped off her black Gucci sunglasses and gave a piercing look. It was the woman from Tristan Du Kok’s balcony, the first woman who’d clutched her coat with a wicked smile. Emme couldn’t take her eyes off her as she waited with Tiago by the lifts.
‘Yes, Ms Steinherr,’ the receptionist said reverently.
‘Have you seen my father?’ she asked, accusingly, envelope clutch under her arm.
‘No, ma’am, but I am just starting my shift.’
The woman tossed her glossy chestnut hair back over her shoulders.
Tiago turned his back to the two women on reception, glad to be otherwise occupied with the arrival of the lift.
‘Anastasia Steinherr,’ he whispered to Emme. ‘Her family owns the hotel.’ He returned to his regular speaking volume. ‘Spa is in the basement. I’ll charge this all to your room. Have a nice day, miss.’
‘Thank you!’ Emme mouthed as the lift doors closed. Tiago would probably be gone and sleeping by the time she was done.
‘De nada,’ he replied. And as the lift closed on his smiling face, Emme wondered why the hell Tristan Du Kok’s Steinherr sister girlfriend would have to hide from another woman on the balcony.
The pool was ambient-lit and totally empty, the water serene and flat, changing colour on rotation thanks to the underwater lights. Green to purple to blue to red. It was begging to be dive-bombed into. Emme looked at her reflection in the mirrors as she tiptoed along the pool’s edge. The tiny metallic bikini wasn’t what she would ordinarily choose, but she felt pretty good in it. The string cut flattered her petite curves, and the shine of the little triangles made her nipples just about protrude through the fabric. She thought of Tristan Du Kok pressing his hard-on into the blonde; the tenderness with which he comforted her in the café. Didn’t Anastasia Steinherr care that Tristan Du Kok also slept with someone else?
Dammit.
She decided to leave the pool and explore the outdoor space, where there was a quad clad in cedar, with a sauna and steam room off to one side, and a plunge pool in the middle. The cold blast of Alpine air would do her good, but it was so freezing outside, she bypassed the swing chair and went to the sauna room which, again, was blissfully empty.
Emme hung her robe on a hook outside the door and entered the small piping-hot steam room. Almost instantly she felt a moistness on her forehead; beads of sweat on her top lip. She placed her towel down on a top slat and lay on top of it, hoping no one would come in and ruin her peace. What a few days it had been. And here she was.A freebie in a plush spa, all thanks to the new friendships she was forming.
She closed her eyes. Still she couldn’t shake the thought of Tristan Du Kok. First taking Anastasia from behind. Then sliding his cock into the blonde after she’d left. How beautiful they all were. How soft his lips and manly his rhythmic thrust might be. Emme felt sensations she hadn’t felt in years; sensations she craved to feel with another man.
She thought of her last fling, Leo, a friend Tom had fixed her up with, from a covers band he and Leo played in called The Right Stripes. Leo was a drummer, but he was a clumsy lover. His hands wandered erratically and nervously. He didn’t put his hands on her the way Tristan had the blonde. Leo hadn’t made her come once. She had only been with him to test the waters. See if it would rattle Tom. See if she could take her mind off her best friend. It had fizzled out after three weeks.
Emme closed her eyes and tried to breathe against the stifling air. She imagined she were riding Tristan’s enormous cock. His strong thighs holding up her petite curves. She would fit more neatly onto him than either of his leggy lovers.
Emme’s hand wandered. The metallic shimmer of her bikini bottoms almost pulsating with the heat from her clitoris. She knew that if she touched herself now, she would come quickly. But what if someone walked in?
What ifhewalked in?
Oh god, she wanted him so badly. To feel what those women had. Surely she’d hear someone come in before they saw her? Her hand slid down and her fingers made that first exquisite touch. She imagined Tristan’s thick lashes and cocky smile as he walked into the steam room, pushedaside the V of her bikini bottoms, and gently teased his tongue into her.
Emme moaned, pressing harder. The fantasy of Tristan, scooping her up and lifting her off the bench, his hands clasped under her buttocks while he guided her onto his throbbing cock. Him standing; her legs wrapped around his waist. The sensation of him inside while he thrust. They changed positions, Emme on her tiptoes, Tristan caressing the curves of her arse.
Oh my god.
She was so close to coming.
And then she was suddenly interrupted.
My phone!
It was ringing in the pocket of her robe, just on the other side of the door.
Shit.
She was so close, but something could be wrong with the kids, it could be the school, who had her number now as the first port of call in an emergency. She had to answer it.
Emme got up and felt light-headed.
The rush of cold air from the courtyard felt both shocking and invigorating at once.
