My personal pep talk took away any heat I felt from his sexy body and replaced it with humiliation. Dear God, I was gawking at some guy who was probably in college. Yep, time to make a break for it, I just needed to get to the elevator, then the lobby or hide out in the restroom until he got the hint and gave up! I took one glance at the towel I was still clutching and realized I was going to be running down a hallway practically naked. Yet, somehow that seemed better than being the headline on the local news after they found my dead body. Yep! Plan- get away from sexy but sadly crazy as fuck man- was a go!
“Okay, Matt but I need to get dressed, you can wait on the couch.” I nodded my head in the direction of the sitting area and plastered on my fakest smile. I could do this, people always underestimated me, I was always quiet, non-confrontational, just blending into the shadows of life.
I forced myself to relax as his suspicious eyes probed mine for any hint of a lie. “Come on Matt, I can’t go to dinner in a towel,” I told him hoping he would take the bait and move away from me.
Matt’s eyes softened, and he smiled at me, “Actually, I’d be more than happy to take you in that towel, but then I’d have to kill every man that looked at you,” his smile left his face and was replaced with a look I couldn’t read. Anger? Why would that make him angry? Just when I was about to ask, his face changed back into his charming smile and I realized he had just let his mask slip back into place. Interesting, the guy is so full of shit! Everything is a line, an act, anything to disguise who he really is! Obviously a psycho-killer with zombie tendencies!
As soon as Matt sat down on the couch, I whipped the door open and took off down the hall. I knew I could only run a short distance before my hip and leg would force me to either stop or fall flat on my face. I raced by hotel room doors and smiled when I saw the elevators. So far so good, no one had seen me! I only had to endure one humiliating walk of shame to the hotel concierge. After that, I was sure hotel security would kick out the gorgeous serial killer waiting in my room.
Out of breath and starting to feel my hip get tight, I grimaced in pain as I punched the call button on the elevator. The doors opened, and a shocked looking couple stumbled out of the elevator, their eyes wide as they took in my towel clad body.
“I’m so sorry, there’s a man...Ahhh…” I squealed as massive arms banded around me from behind. I was caught between trying to twist away and keeping the towel covering my body from giving the couple an altogether different kind of Vegas show.
“Now baby, when you said let’s play hide and seek, I thought we agreed to stay in the room,” Matt whispered loudly near my ear. I felt myself turn bright red with embarrassment.
The couple laughed and tossed us drunken grins as they started to move away toward the opposite hallway.
“No! Wait! You don’t understand! He put my clothes in a laundry bag, cleaned up all the pasta from the floor and he organized the whole table setting!” I shouted, trying to explain what the beast had done! Surely, they could see the evil in his OCD, psycho stalker ways.The couple froze, and the older blonde woman walked up to me and patted my cheek. Matt gripped me tighter as I tried unsuccessfully to break his hold.
“Honey, it took me ten years to train my husband to pick up clothes or clear the dinner dishes, I know the first time is a little scary and awkward but it looks like you married a good man here,” she told me as I just stared at her. I swear my jaw hit the floor. Before I could correct her assumptions and beg for help, she turned to Matt and patted his cheek too. “You be gentle with her young man, a new bride needs a soft touch.”
Had the whole world gone mad? Matt must have sensed that I was about to scream my head off at the terribly kind, but seriously unhelpful woman because just as I opened my mouth, his large soft hand covered it.
“You are right ma’am,” I heard him address the lady I was coming to dislike more and more. “Come on pumpkin, I’ll make sure I’m more gentle this time,” he purred as he lifted my entire body and held me against his chest. Wow! I mean, I’m not overweight, but I’m not a stick figure either. Shocked silent I stiffened as he turned and walked back to my room, my feet dangling a good foot or two off the ground as he whistled some tune I didn’t recognize.
Coming to my senses and fearing what would happen once he had me behind closed doors, I struggled. Towel and modesty be damned! I needed to get away from this man, I didn’t even care if I lost my towel and the whole hotel was traumatized from terror when they saw my hideous scars. Some things in life were more important than dignity…my ability to go on breathing was one of them!
Just as we got to the door, I noticed the smart little twit had been clever enough to twist the deadbolt to locked so that the door wouldn’t shut completely and we wouldn’t be locked out. Of course, he did! You really think this is the first time sexy guy has done this! The sobering thought had me kicking my legs up against the door and pushing with everything I had. My right leg screamed as I forced my hip to push with a force it didn’t have. Apparently, I was stronger than I thought because we fell back against the wall directly in front of my room and for a second his grip loosened. Not wanting to lose this opportunity, I rammed my elbow into his kidneys and grinned when I heard him grunt in pain. Scrambling to my feet, I was about to bolt or rather limp because at this point I really needed a muscle relaxer for my hip before I was reduced to crawling away from my stalker guy, when I was spun around, and angry, green eyes held my wide dark ones. Shit, he looks pissed. Like literally, stab you a hundred times and throw your body down the hotel laundry chute pissed!
Without a word he picked me up in his arms and shoved the door open with his very expensive looking shoes.
“Come on wifey, it’s tradition to carry my bride over the threshold,” he laughed bitterly as he swept into my room and used the heel of his shoe to shut the door.
“Fine,” I shouted. I was cold, embarrassed, scared and even a little turned on. Bad Ali, bad, we do not get turned on by men who are going to kill us!
“Go ahead, do your worst! Chop me up into little pieces or hack open my brain and eat small chunks with some shitty bottle of wine! Just know that I will come back from the dead and be your worst fucking nightmare!” I screamed. I was so mad I was panting. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared, prepared to deal with whatever sick and twisted thing he had planned.
His angry frown turned up into a smile and suddenly he was putting me on my feet while he grabbed his sides, laughing. The bastard was actually laughing at my pre-death monologue. Well, that was just rude!
“You think I’m going to kill you and eat your brains for dinner?” He asked as he laughed so hard he was gasping for breath.
Still pissed, I hopped from foot to foot to relieve some of the pain in my hip and mumbled, “Well, when you put it like that it sounds a little crazy.”
Placing those large hands on his knees, he pushed up to stand, and his face showed nothing but amusement. Gee, I was so happy I could make my future murderer laugh before he slaughtered me, I was truly gifted!
“Babe, I don’t want to kill you,” he chuckled as he leaned against the back of the sofa like we were discussing the weather.
“Really? Then why did you stay when I told you to go? Why did you creep into my bedroom while I was in the shower and clean up my clothes and t-t-he table?” I stammered quickly. Damn, I hated when I stuttered, it only happened when I was really nervous, and I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d done it.
Matt cocked his head to the side and gave me that look that told me he was trying to figure out just the right way to word something.
“Listen, I just thought it was nerves talking. I know hiring an escort is a little intimidating. I know that if you just spent a little time with me, let me put you at ease, you’d feel better, and we could move on with your, ‘interview’ of me,” he said in a hushed tone. What bothered me was the fact that he had used his fingers to make air quotations when he said the word, ‘interview.’
“Just what do you mean by the air quotes?” I asked. Finally starting to calm down, I was beginning to see the situation for what it was. I wasn’t entirely convinced Matt wasn’t a serial killer, but I had the feeling he had the wrong idea about why I had hired him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but something on his silk shirt caught his attention. Mumbling something I couldn’t understand he started unbuttoning his shirt. Before I could even voice a protest, his shirt was pulled from his slacks and off his body as he padded over to the sink. I watched as he took a small dishrag, dabbed it with soap and furiously scrubbed some microdot stain like it had wronged him somehow.
Stunned by his sudden change of demeanor, I just stared as he scrubbed, then laid his shirt over the back of one of the dining room chairs and turned to me with his hands on his hips.
Damn, I couldn’t take my eyes of the man’s chest. I counted every chiseled ridge, the man had an eight pack set of abs, eight! There was not one ounce of fat on his perfect, hairless chest; except, for the happy trail that I tried not to follow. I did, I really did, but like a moth to a flame I let my eyes dip to the part of his body that I knew kept many women coming back for more.
Matt cleared his throat, and I knew I’d been caught checking him out. When my eyes moved back up his body to his face, he was smirking like the arrogant ass I had pegged him for. “Eyes up here sweetheart,” he teased as I tried to find my voice.
“Answer my question,” I demanded trying to get past my embarrassment and get back on track, the man was far too distracting.
Matt sighed and reached for my elbow. I pulled out of his grasp and limped backward. He frowned as he looked down at my legs, looking for some sign of an injury.
“You’re hurt?” he asked actually sounding concerned.
“No, old hip injury. It flares up when I’m being chased by psycho killers that like to clean up after their victims and make air quotes,” I retorted not really wanting to get into a long conversation about my hip.
Luckily he seemed to be satisfied with my answer. Well, part of it anyway, as he scooped me up again and deposited me on the couch taking a seat on the opposite side. Adjusting my towel for the hundredth time that night, I glared at him expectantly.
“Since you already outed me on calling my clients by endearments, I’m going to break one of my rules and call you Sunny, although I’m pretty sure if I asked you what your real name was you wouldn’t tell me, would you?” He asked as I shook my head.
“Okay, Sunny, I know that this whole interview angle is just a way to hide what you really want. I mean, I think it’s flattering that you made up the whole interview scenario because you were nervous about being with me, but I want you to know you don’t have to be nervous. I’m going to be so sweet and gentle with you that by the time the sun comes up, you’ll be so exhausted from all the orgasms I am going to give you that you’ll sleep for a week,” he purred. The man actually purred at me! He was wrong so wrong! I bit back my amusement as his gaze turned seductive and he reached a hand out and trailed his fingers down my cheek.
Covering my shivering response, I laughed. I laughed for how crazy I had been to think that this man was going to kill me. He wasn’t trying to kill me, he was trying to boost his enormous ego by banging the poor, shy, woman who wanted him so desperately that she had come up with some stupid story to hide behind!
“Oh my god, that…gulp…is so…funny,” I laughed harder as I practically fell off the sofa in stitches. “You think I want you to have sex with me?” I could see the look of confusion as it crossed his face and it only made me laugh harder. Yeah, take that ego down a peg hottie, you may be sexy, but you’re not ALL that!
“I thought you were some psycho-killer and really you’re some OCD neat freak with a God complex who can’t comprehend someone not wanting to hang from your penis,” I shouted suddenly serious. I could see him trying to work it out in his head and realized that the man was probably not that bright.
“Okay kid,” I started as I stood up from the couch and towered over him. I made sure my tone was that of an adult scolding a child, “let’s get something straight, maybe most women want to hang from your magical penis, but I don’t. I’m not like most women, I don’t want to have sex with some young guy who is probably fresh out of college and probably still lives with mommy and daddy,” he opened his mouth to speak, but I shushed him with my raised hand. “I am a literary research assistant, I know that’s a big word for you, but it means that I study historical and factual data for authors who write books. Now, I‘m going to go out on a limb and assume you know what a book is, it’s that thing you use as a coaster in the Frat house when you don’t know where to put your beer!” This time, he stood and still I went on with my rant, “So, my assignment was to interview a male escort, my boss showed me the Archangel website and thought you’d make a good subject. I told the woman at the agency exactly what I was planning to do with our time! That was the reason I booked you for the whole night so that I wouldn’t feel rushed with my questions. However, I fully intended to wrap it all up and head home afterward, leaving you here to have a night off in the room or for you to go do whatever you do before curfew!” I smirked, unable to resist my last stab at his age. Thatta girl! Just keep reminding yourself that his eight pack stomach is off limits!
However, my rant didn’t have the result I had expected. Instead of grabbing his shirt and covering the temptation that was his chest, putting on his suit jacket and walking out, the man stepped up so close to me that I had to tip my head back to look up at him. What was this guy’s issue with personal space? Everybody knows about personal space, it was a wide known fact that you didn’t invade the personal bubble of others unless you wanted to be maimed or killed! I was sure the invasion of personal space was a perfectly logical defense in a murder trial.
“So you want to interview me?” he asked with that thoughtful look again.
I rolled my eyes and let out a breath. Finally, the man was getting it. “Yes, I just want to ask you some questions and then you’re free to go back to your Frat house or the basement in your mommy’s mansion. I don’t care what you do,” I told him. I really needed him to leave so I could take a pill for my leg, the throbbing was really starting to get to me.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he turned and retrieved his shirt from the chair, buttoned it up and tucked into his pants. Sighing with relief, I decided I could be polite, so I walked over to the couch and grabbed his jacket. Like the gracious hostess that I was, I held out his jacket for him as he finished rolling his sleeves down over the forearms that I refused to gawk at.
Once his suit-coat was on, I ignored how handsome the man looked and walked to the door to see him out. Maybe tonight hadn’t been so bad, I’m sure I would laugh about it tomorrow.
“So, are you ready?” he asked as I reached for the door.
My hand froze and I turned back to him. I was sure my confusion showed on my face. “Ready for what?” I asked even though I was pretty sure I didn’t want the answer.
The smug look returned, and I just knew I was going to end up in jail before this man left my sight! “Simple Sunny,” he leaned his hip against the wet bar and crossed his arms over his chest in a determined stance. “I’ll let you interview me and then I’ll go away, if that’s what you really want,” I opened my mouth to speak but he was faster and put two fingers against my lips, “But I really am starving, I’m dressed up and want to take you to dinner, then we can come back here, and I’ll answer any questions you have,” he explained as I moved his hand from my mouth.
This time, it was my gaze that was boring into his, looking for any signs that he was screwing with me. He was giving me what I wanted, well except for the whole eating out part. However, I was hungry, and I bet I could eat, ask him my questions and still get him out before midnight, leaving me free to drive home and be back in my own bed before it got too late.
“Can we just order room service?” I asked. I re
ally didn’t have any dress clothes with me, I had only brought jeans and tee shirts. Actually, I didn’t own any dresses at all, they didn’t seem very practical when I was shoveling shit out of an animal habitat.
I knew when the jerk shook his head that I wasn’t going to like this give and take. I had paid the man for his time, I didn’t see why I had to make any concessions at all.
“Why? Since I’m the one paying YOU for YOUR time, shouldn’t I get to decide if I want to eat in or not?” I huffed trying to remind him who the boss was in this scenario.
He chuckled. Something that was becoming a habit when he addressed me, “Listen Sunny, I don’t know why I like you, but I do, your odd, you’ve apparently watched too much Showtime and CSI, and I like the fact that I never know what you’re going to do next,” he said. I began to fidget under his intense gaze. “Now, you can go to dinner with me and I will give you the interview you want, no boundaries, no holds barred and if after that you still want to call it a night, no problem.”
I was about to tell him that was exactly what would happen because there was no way I was spending the night with a hot guy that made me want to lick his washboard stomach, but he raised one finger to stop me. Grunting, I crossed my arms over my towel and waited.
“Or you can push the whole, Me client – You servant card, and I’ll give you an interview with short, vague answers and pull out my phone and play Temple Run all night on your couch and order pay-per-view porn charged to your room!” He finished with a smile as I stood there opening and closing my mouth like a fish gasping for air.
“You wouldn’t,” I told him. But he would, I knew he would, he so would. His dimpled grin said that he would be just as difficult as he promised. Okay. I was an adult, I was a professional, and this money was for the animals at my Sanctuary. I could take one for the team and spend the evening with this arrogant, OCD, twit and in the end, I would be the victor because I’d be able to put in the pool for the lion enclosure. Deciding to keep my eye on the target, I looked up at him and frowned.
No Refunds No Exchanges: A Hudson Family Series- Book 4- Matt and Ali Page 5