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“Does that go for you as well?” I don’t want to sound needy, but if I’m making promises to things I don’t know about, he can too.
He holds my face, murmuring, “Only you, Evie. I promise.”
I nod. “Okay then. Us.”
Placing a soft kiss on my forehead, he smiles and jumps out of bed. “Stay in bed if you want. It's only 9 a.m.” His wink is playful, but also carries a hint of something more. ”There’s a party planner for the ladies, and we’re quad biking at ten.”
“I wanted to go on the Quads, but I can’t be bothered to get up.” I moan luxuriously as I spread myself out in the bed, moving my arms and legs like a starfish. “I’ll do the ATVs this afternoon instead.”
He kisses me and I deepen the kiss. “Behave woman,” he groans as he turns me over and slaps my backside. I make an mmmmm noise in the back of my throat and he laughs, “Later, Kitten,” and leaves.
Dozing seems to be my new normal when activities with Kellen are involved. When I open my eyes and look at the clock, it reads 10.30 a.m. This bed is so comfortable, it’s so soft and the bedding is so touchable, so downy. I rub it between my fingers and snuggle my face into it. So, so, soft. And it smells like him.
I finally drag myself out of my cocoon of softness and go into the shower. Kellen has moved my toothbrush and shower gel in here, and there are huge clean fluffy towels hanging on a warmer. I must stay under the spray for ages. It’s the height of luxury with four different shower heads firing at my body. My mind has wandered to what I could do in here with him. And there is nothing clean about those visuals. I need to get a grip. I’m in some sort of sex haze.
My body, as I inspect it yet again while I towel off, looks like I’ve actually met Dracula. Oh, well, I shrug my shoulders, at least I’ll look authentic. I shove on my PJ bottoms and one of Kellen’s t-shirts and pad across the landing to my room.
The door to the room is open and I can hear voices from inside. Women’s voices. At first I think it must be the cleaners, and push the door fully open to tell them I never used the room so they could just do Kellen’s. But that thought is very short-lived.
“You were quick,” the blonde of the duo snaps at me.
The brunette has the house phone in her hand, but quickly drops it back into its cradle when she sees me in the doorway. Attempting to sound complimentary, she adds, “Pretty good service, Susie. You know Marcus only stays at the best hotels.”
They’re both American, both with immaculate hair and full makeup, even at midday and after a day of travel. Totally gorgeous on first impression, and I’m seriously impressed. I smile at them both and am about to introduce myself, when the brunette switches from smiling to scowling in a flash. She may look beautiful, but her words and tone are all ugly. “We have a big problem here. Someone used our room, and we want you to move all this shit out.”
I’m taken aback by the attitude, and by the fact they’re picking at my clothes, now strewn all over the bed. Touching them like they’re contaminated goods.
“Err, I think there’s been a mistake,” I offer, calmly but firmly.
“Ya think?” Susie scoffs at me. “We asked for the room next to Marcus. As his girlfriends, we need to be close to him. And I really don’t care whose shit this is. Move it. Now.”
“And,” the brunette interjects, “we should have two queen beds, not one king. How the hell do you expect us all to fit in that,” she sneers, pointing at the luxurious bed like it’s a camping cot.
I’m gaping at them. What the hell is happening here?
Susie looks me over, matching her friend’s sneer a little too perfectly. “In fact, I don’t like your clothing. Or your attitude. Are you sure you’re the manager here?”
“Ermm, well, no. I’m not the manager. In fact?—”
“Oh My God! Get me the manager!” Blondie has gone from sneering to screeching. She turns to her friend and yells, ”Get Marcus or Gabe on the phone and get them to figure this mess out. Our spa appointments are in thirty minutes, we don’t have time for this shit. Fucking maids. Totally worthless.” That’s me apparently, I point at myself just to check. “Yes, you,” she practically spits at me. You’re a fucking mess. What the hell kind of people are they hiring here?”
If I didn’t find it a little amusing that these two really think I work here, I would be annoyed at the thinly veiled insults they continue to hurl my way.
“Are you really Marcus Russell’s girlfriends?” I ask in my best fake-impressed clipped English voice.
“Of course we are. Why else would we be here? Look, just do your job, get this shit out of here, keep your mouth shut, and maybe we won’t get you fired,” the brunette threatens me.
I decide to play dumb and ask, “Why are there two of you?” in the most innocent voice I can muster.
They look at me pityingly. “That’s none of your business.” Her falsely sweet voice makes me wonder if she’s going to tap me on my nose next. And then she’s back to bitchzilla. “Get this stuff out of here and get another bed up here. Now.”
Footsteps behind me alert me to the party planner’s arrival. I raise my eyebrows at her and she looks worried.
“Ummm, is there a problem?” She’s also American. I can see the relief on the other women’s faces. Finally a sane person they can boss around.
Susie jumps in first, pointing at my belongings. “This shit’s not ours. We asked your staff member to remove it, but she doesn’t seem to understand English.”
Both dumb arses are flapping their hands at me, and when I start to laugh, they both give me a dirty look.
