Page 29 of Room Service

10

Jessi

I woke up feeling a little strange—as if I’d been taken captive by aliens, but I knew there were two reasons for me feeling this way.

I was really warm, almost uncomfortably warm, and I was sweating slightly as I traced a finger on my sheets. The other issue was the fact my head was hurting so much. It was an uncontrollable pain, as if my head was about to explode. I tried to move my head, but I couldn’t because it felt as if it was an erupting volcano.

What the fuck was I thinking last night? I thought to myself with a light groan.

I didn’t often drink, even when it was wine. The most I’d ever had was when some of the pastries I made needed wine in them. Like my parents, I took the occasional champagne at a party, and wine was saved for special occasions.

And yet, Laura and I had gone through two bottles last night, which I would have to remember to replace before the rest of the staff realized, or I’d be in some serious trouble because they were both expensive bottles. Not only was I hung over, my skin felt icky with dried sweat, and the inside of my mouth tasted disgusting.

I couldn’t even remember most of what she and I had talked about and I wondered if I’d told her anything particularly incriminating. We were having fun, and it was the first time for me in a long time, so I’d let myself go.

Regret curled into my stomach now. Not only regret, I realized, as my stomach gurgled and I had a moment where I was worried the wine and cake from last night would come right back up. I frowned and curled in on myself as much as I could, swallowing down the need to vomit. The wave of nausea passed, and I let out a sigh.

But then, there was a third thing. I was in a bed that wasn’t my own because it was too large and soft. There was also the fact I wasn’t alone in it. In fact, I couldn’t curl up much when I tried, because I was being held close to a body larger than mine by strong arms.

My memories from last night weren’t all gone, and I knew who I would see when I opened my eyes. I didn’t want to, just yet, because I knew the moment I did, I would want to run away.

But my curiosity won out. After a minute of debating with myself, I let my eyes flutter open, and there he was.

Trent. I was lying in bed wrapped in Trent’s arms.

It was a dream come true, even though teenage me had thought it would be so much more innocent. Nevertheless, Trent was holding me close enough that I knew he was completely naked. And so was I.

My body started to heat up all on its own as memories from last night bombarded my thoughts.

Oh, shit.

I was tempted to squirm but I didn’t want to wake him up.

Why not, though?

I paused at the thought, realizing I did want to wake him up. The thoughts from last night were all wonderful, but I wanted more than just a memory. I wanted to shake him awake. I wanted to feel him between my thighs once more, his cock inside me, filling me up and moving deliciously in ways that drove me crazy with lust. I wanted to kiss him again, taste his silky skin one more time.

Not that I could kiss him with the way my mouth tasted. With my head still aching slightly and my body feeling so icky. There was something uncomfortable between my thighs when I shifted them, and I thought it would be better if I could have a bath and brush my teeth first. Maybe gargle some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting taste in my mouth.

So, no waking Trent up for some morning fun. I would be too awkward about it anyway, with last night being my first time and all. I remembered him remarking I was tight and hoped he hadn’t realized that fact.

But more than that, I knew it was a mistake.

I bumped into him and seduced him last night. We both got lost in the moment, but he would regret it when his eyes opened and he saw who was lying next to him.

Before that happened, I had to be gone.

This was all my fault. I couldn’t say I’d been plastered last night, but I hadn't exactly been sober either. Running into him was one thing, and I didn’t know where the courage to kiss him even came from, but I knew he would blame me for coming on to him.

I’d had enough shit from this guy as it was. Thinking of the fallout from last night’s activities was enough to make my stomach churn some more.

This shouldn’t have happened at all. I rubbed my thighs together, feeling uncomfortable at the soreness between my legs, only to freeze when I remembered what it meant.

We didn’t use protection last night.

Shit!

With sudden urgency, I started to move. I did so carefully, doing my best not to wake him. His arms slid out from around me, and I got off the side of the bed, standing up. Almost immediately, I was falling, but I managed to hold onto the bed and brace myself so I wouldn’t end up on the floor. My legs were just a little wobbly, but what surprised me was how sore I felt between my legs. How had I not noticed that?