I smile and press the talk button again. “Fastandefficient.”
As I’m about to reach down for the door stopper, I spot the air freshener on the nightstand.
“Oh, almost forgot.” I secure the radio at my hip and go back into the room.
“Sucks to be you.”
I whirl around, instantly recognizing the smug voice. Snake casually leans a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, clasping the air freshener to my chest.
Please don’t tell me he works here too. Or maybe he’s a customer?
“You honestly don’t know.” Snake bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “He’s going to love this.”
I know the “he”Snake is referring to.
“What exactly should I know?”
Snake smirks and walks away. I timidly peek into the hallway, scouting left then right. He’s gone. I blow out a relieved breath and move on to the next room. I pull on a pair of latex gloves and clean the bathroom first, then strip the mattress and replace the bedding.
Snake and Sandman can’t actually be blood-related brothers. There’s not even the slightest resemblance between them, except both are extremely good-looking assholes.
I hear a soft click and pivot on my heel, expecting to see Snake. My gaze clashes with blazing blue instead. I drop the spray bottle and cleaning cloth, fear loosening my grip. Sandman looms in front of the only escape route… imposing… frightening… my worst nightmare.
“Take off your clothes.” The growled demand ices my veins.
“P-please,” I stammer, hugging my lower belly in a protective embrace. “I’m working.”
“My father owns this place,” he states, stalking toward me. “And I say it’s time for a break.”
“Father?” I question, backpedaling around the table. “I thought he died.”
“Hell, me too, but on the third day, the motherfucker rose from the dead,” Sandman retorts sarcastically. “It’s a goddamn miracle.”
He flips the table, shattering the chrome glass top. I scream, plastering myself against the wall.
“Do I need to undress you myself?” he asks softly, setting my nerves on edge.
I shake my head and begin slowly peeling away my clothes, unshed tears stinging my corneas. Shoes, pants, shirt—leaving me in my matching pink bra and panty set.
I fix my gaze on the monster’s boots… shivering… helpless… entirely at his mercy.
We remain still, no words spoken, his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. I wait on pins and needles, my arms dangling listlessly at my sides.
“The rest,” Sandman rasps, charged passion resonating in his gravelly baritone.
I lift my head and the tears flow, distorting his hulking physique into a watery blur.
“Now!” he shouts, startling me into compliance.
“Okay,” I sob, unhooking my bra with trembling fingers.
The lace material slips to the floor. Next, I push my panties down my legs, laying myself bare to him. I cross my forearm over my breasts and place a hand between my legs, instinctively trying to cover my nudity.
“No,” Sandman murmurs, his stone gaze promising dark retribution. “Show me.”
I let my arms fall and seal my eyelids shut, spilling more salty rivulets down my face.
