“Yes, boss.” I gave him an appreciative clap on the back and made a hasty exit.
It was nearly one in the morning. Two hours had passed since I left her on the balcony. As I climbed into the back of my town car I wrestled with my options. The driver pulled away from the kerb and glided through the quiet streets.
Would Elena still be waiting? Or had I blown it?
I looked out of the window and ran a hand over my face, my palm scraping across my stubble.
“Fuck it.” I leaned towards the driver and called out, “Take me to the Holiday Inn, not the Hyatt.”
“Yes sir,” he replied.
My foot bounced on the floor of the car and I willed the driver to break the speed limit. If I’d been driving myself, I’d have been seeing what this car could really do.
We pulled up in front of the hotel and I reached for the door. I hesitated.
“Wait ten minutes. If I’m not back, call it a night.”
“Yes sir,” the driver replied, his lips twitching to restrain a smirk.
I strode into the hotel like I owned it, called the elevator, and rode up to the eighth floor like a kid waiting for his parents to wake up on Christmas morning. I charged down the corridor, glancing at door numbers until I found 814. I raised my hand to knock and stopped dead. Ice chilling my veins.
Elena was laughing, but so was someone else.
I glanced up and down the corridor to check that I was alone, then leaned closer to the door, tilting my head to listen.
“No, really!” Elena said. Glass clinked. “I never slept with him.”
“I don’t believe you,” her guest replied.
I released an unsteady breath. It sounded like her friend, Caroline.
“Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
I started to take a step back, but was again pulled back in.
“What about Moretti? He seems keen.”
“Oh please,” Elena replied. If they were talking drivers, who had she been talking about when I arrived? “He talks to every woman like that.”
“True. But I’m sure you could get a single ride out of him. It might be fun.”
The pair of them laughed. Fucking Moretti.
I turned and stalked back the way I’d come, back down to my car. I didn’t say a word and, mercifully, neither did the driver. As we drove back to my hotel, a few spots of rain landed on the window. Perfect.
When I got back to my own hotel room, I was calm, but couldn’t deny my disappointment. I stripped off and got straight into the shower. The hotel bathroom was all white tiles and chrome fixtures. The lights were all hidden behind edges. I planted my hand on the slick tiles and dropped my head forward, letting the hot water pound on the back of my neck.
The memory of pinning Elena against the wall—twice, plus the car—came back and I thought of how soft her skin had been, how hot her breath was on my hand as I kept her quiet. I rubbed my fingers together, the two that had come so close to touching her right where I wanted to.
It was torment.
I wanted her, yet she was out to ruin my team and I hated her for it.
The fire in my belly travelled south and my cock stiffened. Dammit.
I reached for it and began to stroke it, slowly at first as I pictured her walking out onto the balcony alone. I remembered her leaning against the railing to look at the city below. The way her dress clung to the curve of her backside.
My cock grew harder in my hand and I gripped it more firmly.
