“Elvis had a wife for a long time, but no one ever saw her. Then she was just gone and he would come in crying. Pax really hated that. After his wife left, Elvis got weird. He started spending all his time with these two hookers, Cookie and Candy. I think they were twins and one of them had a limp. They were high all the time and giggled at everything. Every weekend, Elvis and the twins would party in room 202.”
Shay sits with one long leg crossed over the other and her hands resting in her lap. She’s so focused on me that my cock thickens. I want her now and we’re in a building filled with beds. Taking a deep breath, I remember my story.
“One night, Elvis killed both Cookie and Candy with his dick.”
I can’t help laughing when Shay’s eyes widen. “You’re messing with me.”
Running my finger along the curve of her jaw, I exhale slowly at how soft her skin feels.
I shove my hands into my thick dark hair and try to concentrate. Shay watches me very intently and I suspect she knows how much I want her. I can’t tell how she feels about my need. Her gray eyes show me nothing again and not knowing drives me crazy.
“You think I’d make up a story like this?” I ask, leaning back in my chair. “Just to fuck with you.”
“Maybe.”
“You think I’m an asshole, huh?”
“I know you’re an asshole,” she says, her eyes warming with amusement and something else. Something inviting. “I think you’re the kind of asshole a person can appreciate though.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, accepting the invitation and leaning closer.
Shay shuts down again and glances at the elevator. “Tell me the rest of the Elvis story.”
Leaning back, I grin. “He’s up in room 202 with the girls. Oh, I forgot to mention he’s a big fan of deep throat. Elvis is high out of his mind when he chokes them to death with his dick. They’re wasted too, so once the first girl dies, the second one doesn’t even notice. Elvis doesn’t really notice either until he wakes up the next morning.”
Pausing, I reach out and caress the button at the top of her frilly white blouse. “Is this Darby’s?”
Shay nods then exhales roughly. I imagine lifting her into my lap and ending all the fucking suspense. Waiting is for people planning to live forever.
“When Elvis woke up and realized he killed Candy and Cookie, he wrote a suicide note. He apologized to his mom and everyone who relied on him. Not the hell sure who those people were, but he said he was sorry then hung himself by his belt from the door. Autoerotic-style. The guy went out a pervert.”
“Since three people died in the room, is it supposed to be haunted?”
“No, but it’s a fun story to tell tourists. Feel free to share it. Elvis impersonator kills two hookers with his dick then jacks off while hanging himself. Welcome to Little Memphis,” I say, giving her a wink.
Shay smiles. “Thanks. One of the many great stories I’ve heard since arriving.”
Shay’s smile encourages me to touch her. Before I can, she slides out of her chair and stands up. “I should check the supply room.”
“Is that code for something?”
“Yeah, I have to work.”
“I should come with you,” I say, challenging her.
Shay rolls her eyes. “I need to count toilet paper rolls.”
“I’ll double check your numbers,” I mutter, following her around the corner. When she frowns back at me, I grin. “Math was my best subject in school.”
“Mine too.”
“Want to have a contest to see who counts faster?”
“If I win, will you leave?”
Stepping in front of her, I frown. “I’m not a fan of these fucking games. If you think you’re cute enough to get away with playing the tease, you’re underestimating your hotness. That or just underestimating my fucking opportunities.”
“I’m not teasing you,” she mutters.
Seeing anger in her expression, I meet it with my own. Chicks don’t tease me. A few did over the years, but I always blew them off. I don’t like the chase. Games and power plays are for guys who want to prove they can win at life. I already know I can. After all, I’m not buried in the quarry like those who lost to me.
“I want you,” I say.
“No,” she says, pressing her hands against my chest and pushing me away.
Shay frowns when her push doesn’t move me at all. Clearly, the poor thing hasn’t met an immovable object like me before. I should pity her, but her hot/cold routine is driving me nuts.
“You say the words. ‘No, Ford, I don’t want you.’ You say them, but your wet pussy says different.”
“Gross.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Shay’s cold exterior chips away until I see her imagining what might happen if she says yes. Her voice is weak when she speaks. “I’m at work.”
I lean closer until my lips are pressed against her temple. “I see you naked underneath me. I feel you wet and tight around my cock. Can you feel me inside you?”
“Please.”
I smirk at her tone. “I said you’d beg.”
Shay’s expression is one of defeat. I hate that fucking look.