The Dirty Hotel King: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

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The Dirty Hotel King: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 23

by Cassandra Dee


  “Your cock feels amazing as usual,” I said softly.

  Steele grunted and turned his back to me, ignoring me as usual.

  My heart sank in my chest. He was avoiding my gaze again.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” he said quietly.

  He quickly zipped his jeans up and looked at me one last time, regret covering his face, and hurried down the stairwell.

  My chin started to tremble as I watched him disappear down the stairwell. I thought I was okay without him, but I was wrong. As the sound of his footsteps faded, I felt closer and closer to crying.

  I sighed and pulled my panties back up, still sitting on the floor. I loved Steele too much. I wanted to be someone important to him instead of someone he felt the need to run from.

  ***

  I stormed out of the library with my skirt still unzipped. I was furious. How could Steele come and fuck me, then leave me again?

  What was the point of him coming in the first place?

  I was tired of being tossed around and discarded like I was nothing.

  I also felt dumb because my heart and pussy still wanted Steele so bad. And despite how coldly he’d left me once again, I knew that I’d always want him.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just let him go?

  And better yet, why was it so hard for him to just be with me?

  Men were starting to appear more and more fickle to me.

  When I was running down the library stairwell, I saw tons of couples littering the halls. Some were holding hands, and others looking at each with love and affection.

  I felt bitter and jealous.

  Steele used to look at me like that. At least, he had when we were in the privacy of the cabin.

  Maybe he was just too embarrassed to be seen with a young, immature girl when he could have had anyone.

  He had The Grand, which was one of the most expensive, and famous hotels in all of Las Vegas, and he was a multi-billionaire. Why would he want me, a nobody?

  I was nothing to him. Nothing but a quick fuck and a way to pass the time.

  Right as I was about to pass one of the couples, a girl cleared her throat. She glanced at me, looking somewhat nervous.

  “Hey, Rosy?”

  I stopped, my heart beating like crazy.

  “Yeah?”

  She turned a deep shade of pink and avoided my eyes.

  “Are you dating Cris Marshalls?”

  My throat felt dry and hoarse. I technically wasn't dating Cris, but I knew everyone else assumed we were.

  The only guy I wanted was Steele. But he wasn’t interested in loving me.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I replied with a shrug.

  The girl looked back at her boyfriend, almost as if she was too afraid to say anything else.

  The boyfriend then stepped forward, putting his arm around her shoulder.

  “Cris and I, are cousins actually, and I just thought you should know he’s been hooking up with Britney Hannigan every weekend.”

  I blinked. I’d known that Cris was sleeping with other women – but the same girl, every weekend?

  “He’s cheating on me?” I asked dumbly.

  The girl didn’t answer. Her boyfriend stepped forward and cleared his throat.

  “Yeah, but you know. Guys. You seemed nice, even if people have spread rumors about you.”

  My head started spinning. His girlfriend was staring at me with a weird expression on her face. She probably was disgusted by me.

  “Rumors? I assume they were spread by other girls.” I bit my lip. “Who would spread rumors about me, anyway?”

  The boyfriend looked awkward. “No...actually, all of the rumors were started by Cris.”

  My blood was boiling. I wanted to kill him. I had sacrificed so much of my dignity by associating myself with him, and to top that off, he was a disgusting human being.

  I forced a smile and started to walk away.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it. What’s your name by the way?”

  “Daniel, but you can just call me Danny.”

  I nodded and hurried down the hallway towards the doors that were leading to the parking lot.

  I knew Cris would be there since his football practice ended an hour ago.

  I pushed through the doors and was met by a gust of cool wind. It was still the beginning of September, but it was starting to get a little cooler.

  I stopped and looked across the parking lot to search for Cris, and was incensed when I saw him leaning against his silver Range Rover with a sly smirk on his face.

  There was a busty blonde standing in front of him, who I assumed was Britney Hannigan. She was pretty with bleach blonde hair and a nice ass. Her tits were nice too but they almost looked too perky to be real. I was positive she had them done. I did recognize her though. She was one of the head cheerleaders on the squad. I was never a fan of cheerleading, but from what I heard she was one of the best.

  She was also one of the biggest sluts on campus. She had hooked up with nearly every guy on the football team, so it was no wonder why Cris went after her. He wanted a quick fuck.

  I stomped over to them with rage bursting through me. I wanted to kick his ass for being a complete asshole.

  Cris saw me coming and stood up straight, pushing Britney behind him.

  “Rosy, what do you want?” Cris scowled. “Why are you eve here?”

  “Don’t act aloof. You know exactly why I’m here you piece of shit!”

  Cris walked closer to me as his face grew redder until he looked like a tomato.

  “I’m not the piece of shit! You’re the one who fucks rich billionaires for money!”

  That did it.

  I pushed Cris back with all my might.

  “Fuck you! That’s not true!”

  Cris snorted.

  “Yeah, then what about that older guy you were with? I had my dad’s sleuth look into you. How else would you explain how you wound up here? I know everything,” Cris said smugly. He crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. “You’re a slut, Rosy. And I know the truth.”

  My mouth fell open. How could he know all if that? I’d been told that my father’s transaction with Steele had been private! Knowing that the secret was out made me feel dirty and exposed.

  “You don’t know shit. We’re done, Cris!”

  I turned and walked away quickly so Cris couldn’t see the tears streaming down my face. I felt so stupid.

  How had things gotten so out of hand?

  I called my driver to come pick me up, and spent the next fifteen minutes sulking in the parking lot.

  The day was one of the worst I’d had since Steele had left. The only highlight had been my sexual encounter with Steele.

  It already seemed far away, like it never could have happened.

  For a brief moment, I could pretend Steele loved me enough to want to be in my life, instead of only coming to be angry at me for “cheating” on him.

  Chris wasn’t even important to me, and it killed me inside that he was the reason Steele thought I hadn’t been loyal.

  I never even fucked Cris.

  I never even liked Cris to start with.

  When I saw my driver approaching in my sleek black BMW, I sighed and picked up my bag.

  “Hello, Miss Rosy,” my driver said as he opened the car door.

  I forced a smile on my face and slid into the car. The smooth leather seats felt cool on my skin.

  I couldn’t even relax. My driver, Marcel, was fairly new. I thought Gabriel would be my permanent driver, but he went back to driving for Steele.

  Every once in a while I’d ask him about Steele, but his information was always so limited.

  I don’t know where Marcel came from, but one day when I was going to class I saw Marcel was there instead of Gabriel.

  I suppose he was nice. But ‘nice’ didn’t really do it for me anymore.

  The drive back to my apartment was long and quiet. My mind felt so c
louded.

  When we finally reached the apartment, I didn’t even wait for Marcel to open the door. I just hopped out and ran for the front doors.

  Rebecca greeted me but I ignored her. I didn’t feel like fake smiling.

  As soon as I made it to my apartment, I shut the door and burst into tears.

  It was all too much.

  Steele fucking me. Cris knowing about Steele. Everyone at Hudson knowing that I’d slept with a billionaire…and everyone at Hudson thinking I’d done it only to get into school.

  I couldn’t have what I wanted. I worked hard my entire life just to keep things together, but even that wasn’t enough.

  I dragged myself to my bedroom and ripped off my clothes. I was in desperate need of a hot shower.

  Steele had given me so much, yet drained me of my hope.

  I turned the shower on and waited for it to get hot and steamy. I closed my eyes as the steam rushed out of the shower, filling the entire bathroom.

  Sighing, I stepped inside the shower and let the water wash over me. I tilted my head back and relaxed as hot water drenched my hair.

  I wanted to forget everything that happened.

  But most of all, I wanted to forget that I ever loved Steele. That I still loved Steele.

  His perfect body. His huge, amazing cock. The way his lips tasted.

  That perfect smile. The way his skin felt against mine.

  Tears pricked my eyes the more I thought about him.

  “Steele,” I whimpered as I fell to my knees sobbing.

  The hot shower water blazed into my skin, making me feel slightly dizzy. I stayed on the bottom of the shower for a while before finally bringing myself up.

  I cut off the shower and slowly stepped out, dripping wet. I was about to reach for my fluffy towel, but I didn’t have the energy to dry off.

  Exhaling sharply, I walked back into my bedroom and grabbed an oversized t-shirt before shrugging it over my shoulders and pulling it over my wet body.

  I loved the sensation of dry clothes clinging to my soaking wet body.

  It almost felt like someone was holding on to me.

  My stomach grumbled suddenly, reminding me that I hadn't really eaten all day.

  I made my way into the kitchen and stared at the refrigerator. I had gotten so used to cooking for Steele that cooking for myself had long lost its appeal.

  I took a deep breath and opened the refrigerator. There was fish, chicken, and tons of veggies. A smile spread on my face as I took all the food out and started to cook. I clicked on the radio and turned it up. The Beatles blasted through the speakers, which made me feel nostalgic.

  I remembered when Steele had the Beatles playing one morning. The song stuck in my head and soon became my favorite song.

  Tears started to form in my eyes, but I wiped them away and continued to cook. I had to keep going for my own sake.

  Steele would always have my heart, but I started to wonder if it was worth it.

  I had felt so much distress the past couple of months because of him. But I also had found confidence because of him. He’d truly awakened me – every part of me was different now because of Steele.

  It was such a perplexing matter. I didn’t know what to do, or how to feel about it.

  I cooked the meal rather quickly and sat down to eat it. Steele’s sea blue eyes were etched in my mind. Even when I closed my eyes I could see him clear as day.

  The food was delicious, but would have been better if I were cooking it for Steele. Tears flooded down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them from coming.

  I was heartbroken. All I wanted was to be in the safety of Steele’s arms. I wanted him to hold me, to stroke my hair, to make me feel loved and safe and cared for.

  But I wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough for him, and he had made that very clear.

  The rest of the meal tasted bland and unappealing to me. After washing my dishes, I headed back to my bedroom and threw myself on my bed.

  The sheets felt so good on my damp skin. I was so exhausted from the day. I just wanted to drift off to sleep and never wake up.

  I closed my eyes and tried to sleep with memories of Steele haunting me.

  I would always love him, and that was my curse.

  Chapter Twenty

  Steele

  My guilt was eating me from the inside out. I had become the worst version of myself, and I knew there was no going back.

  I did it to myself, so my suffering deserved no sympathy.

  Rosy was perfect but I had somehow never allowed myself to be at the hands of perfection.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that things would change. That one day, my old habits of cheating on and discarding women like tissues would screech to a frantic stop.

  But boy did it sting.

  It almost felt like a death had occurred. The death of my remaining sliver of sanity.

  Brazil had taught me that I was too weak to hide from my urges. The women there had been beautiful but they weren’t her.

  No one was her.

  I searched for Rosy in the eyes of every empty -hearted woman. I projected Rosy’s sweet personality onto foreign eyes and faces. But there was never the same innocence, the same guile that I’d seen in Rosy.

  All I had wanted was to do was to protect her, but I’d ended up doing the opposite. I had reached right into her chest and ripped out her heart. Her heart was the most beautiful part of her and I’d killed it.

  I was drowning in guilt and pain. My nights were long and bleak and full of pacing, and void of any sleep.

  The Grand no longer could pacify my racing thoughts and anxiety. The bustle and never-ending action only trapped me in a cycle of noise and confusion.

  Two days after seeing Rosy, I had gone to The Grand in a weak attempt to resume my old habits and it hadn’t worked. Dealing with unruly guests had never been so unsatisfying.

  I was no longer the guy who could solve all problems and still get guests to fall in love with me afterwards. My charm had vanished. I’d retreated to my office and shut the door, desperate for a little peace and quiet.

  Alicia had come banging on my door. The sound jolted me from my quiet space and I narrowed my eyes as Alicia walked into my office.

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “Mr. Steele? There’s a guest who is complaining about his room. Something about the wallpaper,” Alicia added. She wrinkled her nose and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I knew she was waiting for me to invite her inside.

 

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