Ravishing Room Service (The Heavenli Hotel Collection)

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Ravishing Room Service (The Heavenli Hotel Collection) Page 1

by Cordelia King




  ROGUES & ROOM SERVICE

  A Heavenli Hotel Story

  By

  Cordelia King

  First Kindle Edition, May 2013

  Copyright 2013 by Cordelia King

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.

  Regina was tired. Not that any of the customers would know it, of course. She had had her customer face on, the one that said that although it was 6.30 am, there was nowhere that she'd rather be than in Halo, catering to the breakfast needs of businessmen.

  Mostly it was true. She had been more than happy to work every rostered hour in the hope it would block out all her personal problems. At work, she was successful – she was the manageress at one of the top restaurants in the city. The Heavenli Hotel was one of the top hotels in New York, and boasted five restaurants. Halo was the most prestigious.

  When people saw her they saw her as one of life's achievers. When she was at work she felt like someone. But once she pulled on her coat and stepped outside the building she reverted to being the woman who hadn't been able to keep hold of her philandering husband. A husband who was suing for half her home, even though he had done little to contribute to it.

  Originally work had blocked it all out, but now work was wearing her out. She needed to cut herself some slack, needed to jet down to Florida and lie on the beach. Or perhaps Cabo.

  But who would she go with? Her friends had their own set of commitments, jobs, families, pets. There was no one who could drop everything on a whim to go away with her.

  And why should they? Regina had been so busy working over the past few years that she hadn't spent time working on her friendships. Every spare moment she had she put into her job. She'd had Ed at home for company, so she hadn't been lonely.

  But then Ed had found new playmates and here she was alone. No doubt about it, sometimes life sucked.

  'Excuse me,' said a voice behind her. She turned to see a man waiting to order. Seriously, they needed more staff.

  'Good morning,' she said. 'What can I get you today?' She couldn't tear her eyes away from this man. He had dark chocolate eyes and skin that hinted at Latino heritage. He was impeccable in a starched shirt and tailored gray suit, the only concession to the early hour was his hair which was still damp from the shower. She imagined him naked in the shower, his body slick with moisture...

  Seriously, she needed to get a grip on herself. She encountered eligible businessmen every day of the week. She was meant to be a professional.

  'I'll have the eggs Benedict and a pot of coffee please.'

  'Coming right up,' she said taking the menu from him. Their fingers jostled for a second and she felt a spark of electricity. She felt her cheeks colour, and she quickly walked away before he could see it.

  She gave his order to the kitchen, and then made her way to the office. The phone was already ringing when she got in.

  ‘Halo at Heavenli?’

  ‘Hi Regina, it’s Sarah. ‘I’m not going to be able to come in today.’

  ‘I guessed that was the case. You’re over an hour and a half late – you’re meant to let me know before your shift begins.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I was up all night throwing up and I didn’t think that I was going to fall back asleep, but I did.’

  ‘All right,’ said Regina. Sarah was one of her best workers, and she had small kids to support. She didn’t usually pull stuff like this. If she had a stomach bug, there was no way that she could come and work around food. Regina had enough problems as it was without losing more of her workforce to illness.

  After she hung up the phone she rubbed her temples. She had a pile of paperwork which he had planned to work through with a pot of coffee, but that just wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t enough staff on the floor to provide the kind of five star service that the restaurant was known for. There was nothing for it – she was going to have to chip in.

  She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and went back on the floor. Part of being the manageress was that she occasionally had to roll up her shirtsleeves and pitch in wherever there was a need. She was good at it; she’d started waitressing when she was fifteen, after all. But dealing with the general public called for her to put on her chirpy helpful persona. She just felt exhausted, and wanted to barricade herself in her office and not deal with other people.

  That just wasn’t going to be possible.

  Back in the restaurant she showed people to their seats, took orders and kept things moving. She was dealing with people who were needed all over New York for high stakes business negotiations – they couldn’t be delayed. Efficiency was key.

  She got back to the pass as Hot Guy’s plate was dished up. She looked around to see if there was another server who could bring it over to his table.

  Everyone was busy. Shit. But even if he made her pulse race like a teenager, she wasn’t a fifteen year old waitress anymore. She had to be professional.

  She carried the plate over to his table and placed it in front of him. As she was doing so she looked at his face, and noticed that his gaze was fixed on the neck of her shirt. A glance down showed that the top two buttons of her shirt were opened, and bending over meant that the neckline had gaped revealing more than an acceptable amount of cleavage.

  She looked up and caught his eye. There was a glint of lust in his eye. It wasn’t just her who was affected, he liked what he saw too. She wondered how that chemistry would translate to the bedroom.

  But this was work. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked.

  He gave her a hot look that made her feel like she was burning. ‘Not right now.’ There was a subtext to that, but she didn’t want to – couldn’t go there – right now.

  ‘Enjoy your meal,’ she said.

  She moved away and busied herself with serving other tables. She could feel his gaze on her, making her feel more self-conscious. Trying to keep her attention on her job when she was hyper aware of this beautiful man was difficult. Her heart rate hitched and she could feel herself moisten. When she glanced over at his table and saw it was empty she felt bereft, but relieved.

  She needed sex. She was starting to fantasize about her customers. She needed to get a grip.

  The next day she was on a late shift. She still wasn’t able to get the mystery man out of her head. She’d had errands to run all morning and she was sure that the people she’d been dealing with thought that she was insane. She was like a teenager. She saw good looking men all the time – why was he so different?

  While she was mooning over him like a teenager, her fantasies were far from adolescent. She kept imagining him being on top of her, riding her hard.

  It’d been a long time. Way too long.

  At eleven o clock the last diners were finishing up. Her mystery man hadn’t turned up. She was disappointed, she had worn her best suit and her highest heels, giving herself foot pain into the bargain.

  She went back into the office. She had a stack of paperwork that still hadn’t been touched, and she knew that she should get to it. It was the responsible thing to do. But she was fed up being responsible. Even when her personal life had gone crashing over the side of a cliff she still came into work, still was professional.

  When was the last time she had done something for herself?

  She knew who she would like to do for herself. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She thought about mystery guy kissing her. She could feel herself moistening. She slid a hand down underneath the waistband of her skirt until she made contact with the lace of h
er panties. It felt so good, and she imagined what it would be like to have him touch her there.

  She circled her clitoris, increasing the pressure. She widened her legs to get better access. She felt her nipples harden under the skimpy lace of her bra. She imagined his mouth on them, licking and flicking.

  She bucked her hips under her fingers and threw her head back. She imagined fucking him hard, on and on until finally…

  There was a sharp knock on the door. Shit. She pulled her hand out from her skirt and tried to get her hair under control. She’d thought that nobody would bother her at this time of night.

  ‘Come in,’ she called. The door opened and in came mystery guy.

  How embarrassing was this? Her cheeks were flushed from embarrassment and arousal. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was light headed – all her blood had rushed straight to her core, making her swollen with need. Her nipples strained against the thin material of her shirt.

  She lined up her papers against the edge of her desk as she struggled for composure. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m just looking to get some food, but it seems you guys are closing up.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re closed for sit down meals, but the hotel has a room service menu that runs twenty four hours a day.’

  ‘I know, but I was really looking for something from Halo’s menu, I wanted something in particular,’ he said. He was sexy as hell, his jaw was covered in five o clock shadow. She wanted to feel how the friction would feel against the creamy soft skin of her breasts.

  ‘The kitchen might be able to whip up something,’ she said. Her voice lingered on the word whip, sending another wave of goose bumps over her skin. What would it be like to be dominated by a man like him?

  But back to the matter at hand. ‘If you want to give me your order I’ll see if it can be cooked and delivered to your room.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. I’m Oliver Vergara, Gabriel Suite.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

  ‘Take your time,’ he said with a look that took in her entire body. ‘It looks like you have your hands pretty full right now.’ With a devilish grin over his shoulder he left her office.

  He knew what she’d been doing. How embarrassing was that? She pushed her mortification to one side and made her way to the kitchen. Halo’s kitchen staff had left, but one of the chefs covering the room service night shift often worked in Halo and he knew how to make the dish Oliver had requested.

  ‘Regina,’ he called when it was ready. ‘It’s good to go.’

  She had her coat and purse on, she was ready to go.

  ‘Just send it up, will you?’

  ‘I can’t,’ the chef said. ‘Unless an order comes through the phone system I can’t get a server to bring it up. Besides, there’s been a huge order just gone up to a bachelorette party upstairs, about ten guys were needed to bring up the trolleys. Please – I don’t mind cooking something but if this isn’t served piping hot it will spoil.

  ‘Sure,’ said Regina, placing the plate on a trolley with silver. So she was going to deliver a meal to someone who’d just caught her masturbating in her office. She better get a tip for this.

  She stopped outside the door of the Gabriel suite and took a deep breath. Two minutes and she’d be on her way home for a bath and hope that he was going to check out tomorrow. She knocked smartly on the door.

  The door opened. He’d taken off his jacket and tie. He looked surprised to see her at the door. ‘I didn’t think you’d deliver it yourself.’

  ‘It’s a crazy night, we’re low on staff,’ said Regina as she wheeled it into his room.

  ‘You’re finished for the night?’ asked Oliver.

  ‘Actually, I finished an hour or so ago,’ said Regina. ‘But that’s the perk of being a manageress, right?’

  ‘True,’ he said. ‘Though I hope my special request wasn’t the reason that you had to stay back.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Regina. ‘It’s my own fault, I have a huge amount of paperwork to do and I’m finding it difficult to stay focus.’

  He met her eye and smirked. ‘I had noticed.’

  She blushed. ‘You should eat your meal,’ she said, spinning on her heel and walking over to the door.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you stay and have a glass of champagne. It’s my way of apologising for speaking out of term.’

  ‘You’re a guest,’ said Regina. ‘Haven’t you heard the phrase the customer is always right?’

  ‘Yes, but I deal with clients all the time, and they’re not always right. Seriously, I’d love if you stayed. I’ve been in New York a week and I’m fed up eating on my own. Seriously, you’d be doing me a real favour. That is, if you aren’t in a rush home.’

  It was after midnight, but she didn’t have an early start tomorrow.

  ‘It depends on the champagne,’ she said, lightly, as if it was no big deal that the man of her fantasies was asking her to stay in his hotel room for a glance of wine. Did this mean he was into her? It had to be, surely. You didn’t invite women to have a drink in your room at this time of night unless you had an ulterior motive.

  She sat down with him at the dining table and waited for him to open the champagne. It was Krug, her favourite. She sipped at the wine, luxuriating in the fruity taste on her tongue. He sat down and began his meal.

  ‘How is your pasta?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s good,’ he said. ‘The best carbonara sauce in the city.’

  ‘You sound like you’re an expert,’ she said.

  He flashed her his heart breaking grin. ‘I’m Italian, a true connoisseur.’ The words were loaded with meaning. She’d been right. This was a seduction. Her body hummed with anticipation. It didn’t look good to be too flustered.

  ‘I’ll give your compliments to the chef,’ she said.

  ‘Would you like to try some?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure.’

  He wound the strands of fresh pasta around the fork, the creamy sauce clinging to its length. He held it out to her, and she reached across to take the tasty morsel in her mouth. She closed her lips on the pasta, and pulled back, letting her mouth slide lasciviously off the fork.

  ‘You like it?’ he asked. His pupils had dilated at the sight of her suggestively sucking the pasta off the fork.

  She nodded. ‘Of course I like it. I was the one who got Marco to put it on the menu.’

  He pushed some more pasta onto his fork. ‘A woman of good taste. Interesting.’

  ‘Why are you in New York?’ she asked.

  ‘Business.’

  ‘What kind of business?’

  He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You really want to talk about work right now?’

  ‘You’re discussing pasta that’s made in the restaurant where I work,’ said Regina. ‘You’re discussing what I do for a living, why can’t we discuss what you do?’

  ‘It’s a fair point,’ he conceded. ‘But still, that’s not why I invited you in.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Regina taking a sip of her champagne and giving him a seductive smile. You wanted a dinner companion.’

  ‘That’s it exactly,’ said Oliver.

  ‘I believe that when you invite someone for dinner it’s customary for them to eat as well.’

  ‘You want more pasta?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not into carbs. I’m more of a carnivore.’

  ‘Really,’ he said his eyes hot with desire. ‘You want me to order something?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’

  She got up and walked over to him.

  He looked up at her. ‘I think you’re a woman who’s used to calling the shots. But if you want this, and I know you want this, then we’re going to have to do this my way. Do you understand?’

  A shiver ran down her back. This sounded perfect. She was nervous, but totally ready.

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Go
od.’

  He turned his chair so he was looking straight at her. She felt his eyes running the length of her body.

  ‘Take off your jacket.’

  She slipped out of her jacket, pushing her shoulders back and her chest forward, so her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse. She let it fall on the floor.

  ‘Your blouse needs to go.’

  She opened the buttons one by one until they were all open. She took it off, her nipples dusky rose against the pale pink lace of her bra. His eyes took in her breasts with obvious approval, and her nipples tightened under his intense gaze. Every nerve ending that she had was buzzing with electricity. This was hot. He was going to touch her, right? If he didn’t touch her soon then she was likely to combust.

  ‘Your skirt.’ His expression hadn’t changed, but the glint in his eyes and the huskiness that had appeared in his voice told a different story.

  She undid the button of her skirt and wriggled her hips slowly, causing the material to slide down her legs and pool on the floor around her. She stepped out of the skirt. She was just wearing her bra, panties and ridiculously high heels.

  ‘Come over here,’ he said. She walked towards him, stopping when she was around an inch away from him. Her breath caught in her throat. Fuck he was sexy.

  ‘Turn around,’ he asked her. She did what he said. She felt vulnerable with her back to him.

  ‘Spread your legs.’

  Now he was talking. She did as he asked, feeling the butterflies of anticipation that were circling in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Bend over.’

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘Bend over and hold each ankle,’ he said.

  She did what he asked, bending at the waist and gripping each ankle. Her hair grazed the carpet. She realised that the movement had exposed her pussy to him. A gauze thin layer of lace was all that separated him from the soft slick moistness of her sex. He was practically eye level with it.

  She felt his hands on her, one on the outside of each thigh, her muscles taught from the high heels. All of a sudden she felt his breath against her sex. It was like a fire had been lit, her body revelled in the sensation, but wanted more. He blew along the length of her, making her ache for his touch. She wished with every fibre of her being that he would move his mouth closer to her. She wanted to feel the softness of his lips against her own. But he refused to do it, preferring to tease her instead. His warm breath tormented her in the best possible way.

 

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