He lifts himself up above me, his hands to either side of my shoulders, like he’s doing push-ups over me. The light from the TV captures his biceps as he holds his position. Observing me as I wait impatiently for his next move.
“What?” I ask, as the right side of his mouth rises.
“There you are,” he says. “The real you…”
His eyes widen and, in that moment, I feel so vulnerable.
So exposed.
He lowers himself back down, but this time, instead of finding my lips, he kisses my forehead, my nose, the scar on my left jaw from the car crash. All the things about myself that I’m insecure about. It’s like he knows. Each kiss is more slow, moremeaningful. The pause between each kiss is slightly longer than before.
When he finally finds his way back to my mouth, I’m ready. Waiting. I lean ever so slightly forward, lifting my head off the couch to meet his lips, and as I do, our mouths intersect, our tongues collide. I jolt upright, bumping my head into Christopher’s as the sound of the fire alarm starts ringing through the suite.
“Sorry,” I say, as he rubs his forehead.
“It’s okay.” He moves away to sit upright.
“It’s probably just a false alarm.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Yeah, someone probably just leaned on the fire exit and set it off.” He turns back toward me as I grab his polo shirt to pull him back in.
My mouth is ready for another taste of him. The alarm continues, but the wailing sound falls into the background as I lose myself in Christopher once more.
I barely hear the door open.
“Boss. Boss, we need to leave!” Rob’s voice is elevated.
Christopher quickly pulls back, letting me swing my legs around and stand.
“What do you mean, leave?” I ask as Rob comes toward me. His eyes scan the room as I adjust myself, pulling my vest down and sliding my hand down my shorts to rearrange my raging hard-on.
“We can’t have you go outside like that,” Rob says, heading through to the bedroom and into the walk-in closet. He returns with a hoodie and a pair of vans. “Put them on.”
“What do you… Erm?” Christopher looks at me, then to Rob.
“It’s best if you make your own way out, sir, and follow the hotel’s instructions.” Rob folds his arms while I push my feet into the vans and slide the hoodie over my head.
Christopher looks at me, his forehead crinkled.
“You better go… I’ll message you once whatever this is is dealt with.”
Christopher makes his way to the door, looking back over his shoulder while I tie the laces of my shoes, and exits.
Damn that fire alarm.
There’d better be a good reason for it.
12.Christopher
Monday
My body shakes as I attempt to pay attention to Imani, the night manager I’ve crossed paths with a few times now. She’s using a megaphone to update the growing crowd of hotel guests, mingled with Alexander’s fans, on the ongoing situation.
I look like a drowned rat. When I’d run out of the hotel earlier, fearful of a fire engulfing the building, I’d instantly been caught by the downpour. I’d made my way to the back of the hotel, squeezing myself underneath the marquee-style roof that extended from the door to the railway station, along with at least fifty other guests. If I had known we’d be stuck out here this long, I’d have grabbed something warmer and more waterproof from my room.
“Thank you for your patience, everyone. We’ve contained the issue, and it’s now safe to return to your rooms,” Imani announces. Audible sighs come from the crowd. “Please have your room keys ready to show the doorman as you reenter the hotel.” She drops the megaphone down beside her and turns back into the hotel.
I take a look around as the crowd starts moving toward the hotel entrance, trying to locate anyone from Alexander’s team. But I don’t notice anyone who might be part of his entourage. Rob clearly isn’t here. He’d be impossible to miss, even if Alexander was able to blend in. Which means they’re not here.
