Page 19 of The Attack Zone
“What?” I ask.
“Come on, let’s go,” he says.
“What do you mean ‘let’s go’?” I ask. “I have no were to ‘go’ to.”
“Yes, you do,” he says. “Come on.”
Mitch takes my hand, causing those shivers to run down my spine again, and waltzes us both over to the elevator. He hits the button for floor fifteen and we just stand there in silence, hand in hand, as the elevator moves us up through the building. When we reach the fifteenth floor, we walk a few paces down the hall before Mitch pulls a room key out of his wallet. He beeps it against the reader and swings the door open.
CHAPTER 10
MITCH
“This isn’t my room,” Stacey says as she examines the space. I’m suddenly very aware of my messy suitcase in the corner and all of my toiletries I know are all over the bathroom counter.
“I know,” I say. “It’s mine.”
She looks over at me with distain. I guess she’s back to hating me again.
“I am not staying in your room. Where will I sleep? There’s only one bed.” She motions towards the massive California king bed to illustrate what I already know.
“It’s a huge bed, we’ll both fit. The bigger issue is that neither of us has pajamas.”
“Neither of us?” she asks.
I swear she’s looking at me with the same look she had in her eye on the dance floor, but I have to ignore it right now. Because right now, she needs a place to sleep without my horndog of a libido interfering.
“I get really hot when I sleep, I just wear boxers,” I say as plainly as I can manage, but my voice is deeper and more gravely than I’d like.
“I’ll just wear my jersey,” she says as she unties it from below her chest to let it fall around her hips.
“No way,” I say. “You are not wearing King’s jersey in my bed.”
She rolls her eyes, leaning over to unzip her tall boots. I don’t check out her ass, as much as I want to, because this is going to be a very long night as it is without my making it worse for myself.
“You can’t be serious,” she says.
“You should have thought about that before you wore it just to piss me off.”
I expect her to deny it. To say King is her favorite. That it was a gift.
I expect every response except, “Did it work?”
I rip my under shirt off over my head in an attempt to give myself a few seconds to not have to respond. All it does is expose me to her more.
“Of course it fucking worked,” I say. “I’ll see if I have an extra t-shirt you can wear.”
I cross to my messy pile of a suitcase and start to rummage through it.
“No need,” she says.
“What do you mea—” I turn around and standing next to my bed is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Stacey is in nothing but silky underwear and a bra that sculpts over her tits perfectly. I can see her pointy nipples through the mesh fabric, and I think I’m about to pass out.
“I get hot when I sleep too,” she says with a shrug before plopping down onto the bed.
“Okay,” I croak out. I take off my jeans, toss them on my suitcase pile, and try to name the vice presidents in order in my head so she can’t tell how completely turned on I am bythis entire situation. I sit on the edge of the bed and plug in my phone. “Don’t women hate sleeping in bras?” I ask.
“I’ll take it off once you turn off the light,” she says like it’s not the most insane thing to have ever been spoken.