Page 33 of Playing the Player

Shit.

14

Sasha

The image of Conor in the shower has burned itself into my brain. I tried to look away, I really did, but it was physically impossible. A sight has never turned me on so much in my life. He was breathtaking. His muscles strained as he moved beneath the spray, water pelting down on him, no other sounds but the shower and his grunts that have been playing on a constant reel in my head.

Fuck. Me.

Thank you shitty hotel with the broken door. I will forever be indebted to you.

I was so tempted to join him, to take over, but that would be crossing a line so instead, I stood there and watched him like a creep.

If I wasn’t so transfixed on him, I could have moved before he was finished. Instead, I was too busy fantasizing about him with me. Kissing me, touching me, fucking me.

It was awkward when he eventually came out of the bathroom. We both apologized over and over, but I don’t think either of us meant it.

And then he put on his suit and all those thoughts left my head. It should be a sin for a man to look so good in a suit. It’s unfair really.

But then, I remember what’s underneath that suit. It’s like an endless cycle that’s hellbent on torturing me.

Since there’s only one bed in our room, Conor said he’s happy to take the couch. It looks small and uncomfortable, but I think after that little - no, big incident, it’s for the best that we don’t share a bed. I don’t think I’d be able to control myself.

“I’m really nervous.” I admit, wringing my hands together.

“I’ve got you, Sash.” Conor takes my hand in his as we approach the giant double doors of the venue. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?”

“Only about a hundred times.” I joke, squeezing his hand tightly in mine, trying to joke away the nerves.

I hate to admit it, but Olivia was right. Conor has barely taken his eyes off me since he saw me in this dress. His appreciative gaze makes me nervous and I don’t know why. I’ve felt nervous around him before, but tonight, it feels different somehow.

My whole body is buzzing with awareness every time he looks at me.

Maybe it’s because I saw his dick earlier and realized just how long it’s been since I’ve had any action with another human being and not just my vibrator.

“I really mean it though.” Conor starts, his eyes raking over my body again. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re always beautiful and I don’t know why I don’t say it more, but tonight…” He shakes his head lightly. “I don’t even know how to describe you tonight.”

I’m wearing the yellow dress Liv bought me, paired with white strappy heels. The dress compliments my tanned skin tone perfectly. I’ve styled my hair to look elegant but casual. It’s pulled into a loose bun and I’ve left a few strands out at the front to frame my face.

“Hot as fuck!” Conor bursts out, startling me out of my head. “That’s how I would describe you tonight. Hot as fuck.”

Not as hot as you in the shower though. Dammit, Sash! I’m internally slapping myself because no matter how hard I try, or how nervous I may be right now, I cannot get the image to fuck right off, and out of my head.

“You ready?” Conor asks, placing his hand on the giant door.

No. Why did I come here? It’s like Liv said, these people aren't really my friends anymore, so what was the point? God, this was so stupid. “Yes.”

“We can stay for an hour tops.”

“Make it thirty minutes.”

“Deal.” Conor swings the large door open, the muffled sounds from outside immediately become a circus of different noises. There’s some kind of live jazz music playing at the back of the room. There’s easily more than two hundred people here, everyone talking, laughing and dancing. I don’t fit in here at all. Everything is so fancy, the people are rich and I would rather be in my sweats, stuffing my face with popcorn as I watch a shitty romcom. I bet none of these women even own a pair of sweats. Do they even know what sweats are?

This entire place screams Alex. Rose always said she would want something quiet, close friends and family, at a cute little venue that reminded her of Italy where her grandparents are from. This is the complete opposite. So many people that I feel claustrophobic before fully entering the room, giant crystal chandeliers hanging from the sky-high ceilings, everything decorated in white and gold.

I feel ridiculously underdressed. I’ve never seen so many diamonds in all my life. How are Alex and Rose friends with these people? Waiters are passing around flutes of champagne and small canapes. Not a beer in sight.

“I hate it.” Conor mutters beside me. “Can we leave now?” His comment finally pulls my attention away from the wandering eyes of the people surrounding us. Specifically the woman… staring at him. And they’re not even trying to be subtle either. Their eyes practically bulge out of their heads as they look him up and down. A lot of them are older too. Dirty bitches.