But instead of coming to me, she heads back to the couch, finding her discarded clothes on the floor.
Leaning up on my elbows, my bare-naked frame on full display, I furrow my brows while watching her redress. “What are you doing?”
Stevie slips her legs into her jeans, rebuttoning the waistband. Which is the exact opposite of what I want her to do.
“Getting dressed.”
“Why?”
A small laugh escapes her as she reclasps her bra, taking away my perfect view. “Because I can’t exactly get into my Uber naked, now, can I?”
“Why are you leaving?” I restate my question. “You can stay here.”
Um...what?
“We said this was a one-time thing,” Stevie notes, thankfully ignoring the last part of my statement as she pulls her shirt over her head.
“I was thinking more like a one-night thing. With multiple orgasms packed in there.”
“Look, Zanders, that was fun.” Stevie ties up her dirty-ass Nikes. “But you’re my client. I work for you so that probably wasn’t the best idea.”
I’ve spent this entire season so far trying to remind Stevie that she works for me, and now she decides to get it through her head? Right when I want her to forget about it?
“See you tomorrow.” She turns towards the door.
Jumping off the bed, I cup my dick, unable to throw any clothes on while I chase her out the door.
“Wait!” I yell, following her into the hallway. “At least let me take an Uber with you. It’s two in the morning.”
Stevie continues down the hall towards the elevator. “Zanders, I’m a big girl. I can handle getting back to my hotel.” She steps into the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.
I awkwardly run to catch up with her, all while trying to cover my cock with my hand. I have large hands, but I have a giant dick, and my version of covering it means it’s practically flailing around.
Stepping into the threshold of the elevator, I hold open the metal door with my free arm. “At least send me a message when you get back, so I know you made it okay.”
Stevie eyes my naked frame, a knowing smirk rising on her lips as I desperately stand here, needing something, anything from her.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I swear to God, Stevie. I will scream your name so fucking loud right now, every single one of my teammates will know you’re here if you don’t—”
“Okay!” she cuts me off. “I’ll send you a message when I get back to my hotel.”
I eye her a moment, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong in the time I made her come all over my dick to now, but I can’t read her. I really want to lean down and kiss her goodbye, but she seems hell-bent on getting away. I’m used to her running away from me, but I thought after tonight, maybe she’d stop.
Stepping my bare ass just a foot back, I let the elevator doors close with the wild flight attendant inside, but right before the metal doors close completely, I watch as Stevie leans her head back on the wall, regret covering her features.
What the fuck just happened?
Once she’s gone, the realization hits me that I’m butt-ass naked, and I just ran out of my hotel room without a key, allowing the door to close behind me.
Shit.
I’ve never chased someone trying to leave my room. Typically, I’m getting dressed and begging them to go.
Glancing around the empty halls, I start my walk of shame to my best friend’s room across the hall from mine.
Knocking doesn’t do the trick, so I pound on the door with my free hand, needing to wake him up.
“What the fuck?” Maddison swings the door open, his mop of hair disheveled and his eyes barely open, laced with sleep.
“Oh my God,” he laughs, looking me up and down. “This is too fucking good.”
“I need to use your phone to call the front desk. I locked myself out of my room.”
“Wait right there.” Maddison turns back to his room, barely able to walk due to the hysterical laugher overtaking him. “The boys are gonna need to see this.” He holds his cellphone up, snapping a picture of me in the hallway as I cup my dick and flip him the bird with my other hand.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, letting myself in his room.
18
STEVIE
Last night was a huge mistake.
And by huge...I mean huge. Pun intended.
And not because of the excuse I gave Zanders about him being my client or whatever bullshit I was spewing. But because he was right. He may have ruined every other man for me from here on out.
I think he may have even ruined my vibrator from here on out too, and that’s just a damn crime.
When I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror last night, that’s when it hit me.
That was the best sex I’ve ever had. It blew every other one of my experiences out of the water. For the first time, maybe ever, there wasn’t a single self-conscious thought. Zanders’ constant praise took care of that. We had a wild unspoken connection I didn’t expect and, frankly, didn’t want.
And that’s the problem. It was supposed to be one and done. But all I wanted was to get back in that bed and do it over and over again until I couldn’t think straight.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get attached to him or his award-winning dick. He’s everything I’ve wanted to avoid since college—arrogant, egotistical athlete with beautiful women lining up for a turn. And I made the mistake of jumping into that line, unable to hold my ground against him.
He’s just looking for his next lay, but I’ve got to say, the boy knows what he’s doing between the sheets.
“You totally got laid last night,” Indy teases. “You’re lit up like a fucking glow stick, Miss Shay.”
“I did not.” I try to keep my voice hushed. We’re in the back of the airplane, and the boys are trying to sleep on our overnight flight back to Chicago.
“You totally did,” she giggles. “Was it a Tinder boy?”
Turning away from Indy, I mindlessly start cleaning the spotless countertops in the back galley. “I did not get laid last night.”
“You didn’t?”
That deep velvety voice doesn’t belong to my coworker. No, it belongs to the stunning man who absolutely railed me last night.
I’ve avoided walking the aisle for more than one reason on this flight. One being I didn’t want to see Zanders and have every explicit detail of last night flood my mind. And the second being, he was right. I have a stupid limp because of his stupid, huge dick.
Looking over my shoulder, Zanders leans against the partition separating the galley from the rest of the plane, a cocky little smirk playing at his perfectly full lips.
Asshole.
“You’re limping a bit, Stevie. Did you roll your ankle or something?”
I hate him.
“Oh my God,” Indy says much too loudly. “Oh. My. God.” Her head is on a swivel looking back and forth between Zanders and me, her cheeks flushing a lovely shade of rose.
“You two finally fucked,” she whispers as quietly as possible before her mouth hangs open.
“No!” I exclaim louder than I meant to. “No, we did not.”