Page 51 of Tasty Cherry

Hope sparks in my chest. “So, this could happen?”

“Maybe. Give me some time.”

“Can I kiss you again since I have to wait?”

She lets out a shaky laugh. “I would love that. I love your kisses.”

I want to do so much more than kiss her. When I pull her against me this time, I make sure she knows it. I lift her by the thighs to wrap those Castle Hotel pant legs around my waist. I slip my hand beneath that official vest, and snake my way to her skin until my thumb slips beneath her bra.

Her breathing speeds up, but I keep my mouth on hers. I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her until she finally breaks free, laughing. “Set me down, you brute!”

I kiss her again before I let her feet down to the floor.

She shakes her head. “I get it. You want me. You want to keep doing this forever.” She brushes her hand against my cheek. “Give me until the weekend. I’ll come to you. I promise. I want to. I just found out what all the fuss was about.”

My whole body feels alight at her words.

She wants this.

And no one has ever had her but me.

Fuck. It’s an intoxicating mix.

Even though we’re alone, I lean close to her ear to say, “Please know that when I get you, I’m going to do wild and unspeakable things to you for hours.”

She takes in a sharp breath. “Understood.”

I step away, eager for time to pass, for the weekend to come. “Let’s get you back to your training.”

“And you can show my beautiful blonde coworker this security room.” Her voice is teasing.

But I’m serious as I pull her against me one more time. “I can’t picture anyone in this room with me but you. And I promise you, if you’ll let me, I’ll make you cry out like you did that first night in every room of this hotel. And there are hundreds. Hundreds and hundreds of rooms, of beds, of sofas, of tables.” I lean in close to her ear. “I know which days the sex dungeon is open.”

I can feel her heart race, which sets off mine.

“Okay,” she says.

And then we hurry out of the security office, straightening our clothes.

Full of anticipation.

19

MILA

By Friday, I’m ready for my internship to move to another part of the hotel. Brooklyn and I are masters at check-in, check-out, room transfers, and have started to get a good understanding of the problems that crop up in the day-to-day operation of the hotel.

People complain about noise. About towels. About temperature. Aisha and Jessica have a running bet on how many people will need to be shown how to work the thermostat controls each day. I’ve become an expert at it, since Brooklyn and I started getting sent to handle room problems. And there are many.

Sasha replaced Sebastian at the front desk, so he was around less. It was a relief not to have to worry about people watching us together, and the probing questions finally stopped.

“I feel like the front desk has to be the most useful station for us,” Brooklyn says as we head to the meeting room at lunchtime.

“We learned a lot,” I say. “I think we saw everything that can go wrong with a guest.”

She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Except when a sex party goes sideways. Notice how we never even saw anyone checking into the super-secret suites. They’re not in the normal database at all. I looked.”

“I did, too!” I bump her back.