I didn’t see Gavin the next day at work, nor did I hear from him. After three days, an ever-expanding pit began to form in my gut. Worry that I’d been thrown aside, that he was finished with me, because he hadn’t contacted me. Not even a two-second text reply.
All thoughts of that were pushed from my mind when I returned home after classes that day.
There was a box sitting outside my door. It was weird, because I hadn’t ordered anything, but sure enough, my name was on the label. The name of the company wasn’t familiar, but I pulled it inside with me.
When I opened it, there was an envelope on top of yet another box.
“Okay . . .”
There was no name on the outside of the envelope, but when I pulled out the small card, my heart skipped a beat. I recognized the handwriting instantly, because I’d spent so much time studying the previous letter.
Emma,
Gifts. Though I’m not sure if this is for you or more for me.
Yours,
Gavin
A huge smile spread over my face as I stared down at the note. It was short, but again, the “Yours” captivated me. It took me some creative jostling to get the box out of the box, but finally I was able to pry it out.
It was shiny black, with gray trim, all tied up with a matching fabric ribbon. I couldn’t remember the last time I had received a gift from a guy; then again, I hadn’t had a boyfriend since sophomore year.
Not that Gavin was necessarily my boyfriend, but he sure was acting like it.
“Oh.” Inside the box were layers of glossy grey paper and underneath was a silk bag. There wasn’t just one bag, but multiple. “What . . .”
My brow furrowed as I opened the top bag and fished out the contents. It was fabric, black lace, and after turning it a few times, something fell and I realized it was three pieces—thong, bra, and garter belt.
Then I understood his note. While I would get use out of them, he would get pleasure from seeing them on me.
He didn’t go cheap either. The quality was exquisite, the fabric soft.
When I reached the bottom of the box I looked over everything. I had four new sets of matching panties, bra, and garter belts, as well as eight new sets of silk stockings and two corsets. What really struck me was that they were all my size.
“Oh, he’s good.”
The man was making it hard not to fall for him. After the horrible beginning, his ferociousness had converted to passion. Intoxicating and consuming.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and immediately sent him a text.
Emma: Come over soon
GG: Be there in an hour
An hour. It was enough time. I headed toward the bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I went.
He was going to be in for quite the show.
After two months at the hotel, I had learned many of Gavin’s habits. He kept to a schedule, and with the hours he worked, I understood why.
On Mondays, he worked late, usually getting room service for dinner. Dry cleaning and machine-washable items went out on Tuesdays. He worked late on Wednesdays because I didn’t, and he’d begun to come over to my apartment after he was done. On Thursdays, he usually went to dinner with clients or the CEO of his company. It was Fridays when he found some way to drag me up to his room. Saturdays were the wild card; it all depended on whether or not he had to go into the office. I was off on Sunday nights, and he had begun spending the night with me.
He had made sure his package arrived on Wednesday for our date. Though it wasn’t a date, per se. He came over and we spent time together.
The stockings went on like butter, so smooth. Somehow, I felt even more powerful in the new set than I did in my old ones. I left the corset for another day.
I was working on my makeup when I heard the knock on my door. “Shit.” I took one last look, giving my hair a quick fluff, then slipped on my heels.
Through the peephole I double-checked it was Gavin, then blew out a breath before opening the door. I threw my hip out and rested one hand on it while the other was on the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Grayson.”
His eyes popped wide while his jaw ticked. “Fuck,” he ground out as he stepped forward and pulled me to him. He kicked the door closed and locked it before letting his hands explore. “Mmm,” he groaned against my skin. “Now those are silk stockings.”
I giggled. “Do you like your present?”
He nodded. “I’d love to show you just how much.”
“Oh, Mr. Grayson.” I pulled away. “This is just a modeling. I’m not that kind of girl.”
He chuckled, low and deep as he yanked me back to him. “Why don’t we see about that?”
An hour later, we were sitting on the floor at my coffee table with an array of Chinese boxes and two sets of chopsticks—dinner for the night after an early evening of fucking.
“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” he said.
My stomach dropped a little. “I was beginning to think . . . I don’t know.”
“That I didn’t want you?” he asked, then shook his head. “Please, don’t ever think that. We had a meltdown and I ended up at the office for too many hours.”
That may have explained it, but he could have at least replied to my texts. “Can you do me a favor next time?”
“What’s that?”
“Can you give me the courtesy of a text to let me know?”
His eyes softened, and he reached out to squeeze my hand. “Yes.”
I twirled the chopsticks around the noodles. “I’ve been wondering . . . why are you living in a hotel?”
It took a second for him to finish his bite before responding. “I’m still at the hotel because I haven’t found a home, not that I’ve even had time to search yet.”
I reached into his box with my chopsticks and stole a bite of his sesame chicken. “You could be looking tonight instead of fucking me,” I noted.
He smirked and licked his lips. “Yes, but fucking you is infinitely more enjoyable than searching for a new abode, Emma. In fact, spending time with you is more enjoyable then most activities that come to mind.”
“More enjoyable than . . .” I trailed off thinking of some of his favorite things that I’d picked up on. “Watching baseball?”
“I get a much better view watching you.”
“Spending ridiculous amounts of money on women’s lingerie?”
He chuckled. “That’s a trick question, Emma. Because I love to see you wearing that.”
“Thank you again for the gifts,” I said, my cheeks heating.
His tongue swept across his lips as he reached into the box in my hand and pulled out some lo mein noodles. “Thank you for wearing them.”
“Okay, more than bacon cheeseburgers?”
“Eating you is much better.”
I shook my head and sighed. “You are incorrigible, Mr. Grayson.”
“And you need to eat up, Ms. Addison. Fuel your body. You’re going to need it to get through the night.”
I swallowed hard and felt my body flush. It was going to be a good night.
I couldn’t wait for the day when we could go out, maybe on a real date and start a real relationship . . . if he wanted one. I honestly wasn’t sure what he wanted. He said I was his, but I still felt like his girl on the side.
In order for anything to change, for us to really be together, Gavin had to move out of the hotel.
The sun was out when I left my morning classes, making me smile. It was finally May, and the temperature was warming up. Only two more weeks until I graduated, until I was done.
I had been putting out my resume since January with little response. As soon as my classes were over, I would be spending my days off searching and submitting.
Until then, the Cameo Hotel would continue to be my source of income. I anxiously awaited a set Monday-through-Friday schedule and standard hours with no customers.
I didn’t think I’d ever be able to handle another Gavin Grayson again without going off.
“Good afternoon, Miguel,” I said in greeting as I entered the employee lounge, ready to clock in for my shift.
His face lit up when he saw me. “Emma! Oh, thank God you’re here!”
“What’s going on?” I asked dubiously. He was being overly friendly, which usually meant he needed or wanted something.
“Laundry lost one of Mr. Grayson’s suits, and we can’t find it anywhere!”
My eyes grew wide, the blood draining from my face, and I shook my head. “No, please don’t make me tell him.” Even with our relationship, it was a task I really didn’t want.
“He already knows it’s missing,” he said. “He just doesn’t know it’s disappeared. Gone. We can’t find it anywhere.”
I sighed and scrunched my eyes closed. “Great. What are we going to do to make it up to him? You’ve seen his suits; they aren’t cheap.”
“Give him whatever he wants. He’s spent more than my salary already during his stay, just . . . whatever he wants. A week’s stay, monetary compensation . . . combination of both. Whatever, to make him happy,” Miguel instructed.
Too bad I knew exactly what Mr. Grayson wanted and knew I’d be the one paying for this screwup. Though I had to admit, I was a little bit excited to experience his anger in a sexual way.
“I will hopefully return. But if I’m not back in an hour, send up a body bag.”
With great trepidation I made my way along the familiar path to his room. I slowly lifted my hand to knock, unsure what kind of reaction I was going to receive. Most of his complaints had been fluff to get me up there, but this was a serious issue.
I knocked on the door, and a moment later a very agitated Mr. Grayson answered.
“Good evening, Mr. Grayson. I was wondering if I might have a word with you about your suit?” I asked. He stepped aside and let me in.
“I take it because you are here, that my suit has not been found?” he asked, and I could hear the ire in his tone. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have tasked you to speak with me.”
“No, and I have a whole speech prepared. Would you like to hear it?”
His brow twitched, his jaw set. “All right, what does Emma the hotel supervisor have to say?”
“I apologize, Mr. Grayson,” I said to start, in my professional tone. “The laundry staff has been unable to locate it. It is our hope that it will turn up shortly. The hotel would like to compensate you to make up for the loss of your property. We are fully aware that it is of great expense and we by no means think that what happened is excusable, but we are trying to make amends for the error.”
“Oh, there will be some serious compensation needed, Emma,” he growled. “That suit cost more than you make in a month, and your canned apology doesn’t make anything better. The hotel can compensate me for the suit, but the rest will come from you.” He pulled me to him, his hands kneading my ass, his lips an inch from my own. “I think your ass will be able to make it up to me.”
I blinked up at him. “What?” That wasn’t the direction of sexual payment I was expecting. It was also something I’d never done before.
He leaned in further and nipped at my jaw. “I’m going to fuck this fine ass of yours, Emma,” he reiterated, his hands working their way under my skirt. “I want you naked, on my bed. Now.”
While I was nervous, my whole body was on fire. His voice alone could drench my panties. I did as he commanded and began stripping my suit off. I was bent over, trying to get my skirt off, when Gavin stopped me, his hands on my hips, his cock rocking into my center.
“Fuck! I swear you wear this shit just for me, just to tease me. Is that it, Emma?”
“Yes, Mr. Grayson,” I answered.
He pulled me up and spun me to face him.
“Gavin, Emma.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. In seconds the kiss heated and our hands were roaming all over each other, wherever we could touch.
“Gavin,” I whimpered. Yes, he was my Gavin, though a little more abrasive than normal, and I loved it.
His lips opened to mine, and his hands dug into my skin, pulling me as close as he could.
“Gavin,” I panted.
“Lay face down,” he instructed, pushing himself away. He turned toward the nightstand, and I watched him pull out a condom and some lube.
I was only lying there for a second when I felt the bed shift and Gavin’s knees straddle my thighs.
His hands massaged my cheeks, pushing them together and pulling them apart. Cold droplets hit my skin, making my jump, but they quickly warmed as he moved it across my skin, his thumb pressing against my tight hole.
It felt wrong.
“Relax, Emma,” he said, pushing his thumb through the tight muscles.
“I’ve never . . .” I trailed off, my voice wavering.
“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t hurt you. This is for both of us,” he reassured me. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder, working his way up to my lips.
He used soft, slow strokes as he worked his thumb in, stretching me open. His cock was hard and hot against my thigh. I moaned at the heat it radiated, my hips rising to get closer.
Suddenly I felt two of his fingers slide into my soaking pussy. I cried out, my hands clenching into the sheets from the sudden move. He started pumping his fingers in and out until I was panting.
With a groan, he removed his fingers. I whimpered at the loss, but rejoiced when I felt his cock working its way in.
He was filling me slowly at first before he worked all the way in. More droplets hit my warm skin, his thumb replaced by the two fingers he had used to work my pussy. With each thrust, he pushed his fingers in.
The slow rhythm normally wouldn’t get me too worked up, but the position had his cock rubbing the perfect spot, warming me, pulling moans and soft cries from my lips.
“Gavin . . .”
The pace increased, and so did the mind-numbing pleasure that washed through me.
“Come for me, Emma,” he groaned. “I need you to come, baby.”
“Fuck,” I hissed. He changed his position slightly, and my eyes flew open. A few more strokes, and I shattered around him, screaming into the blanket as I clenched.
“Fuck, so good.” He continued a slow and steady pace as I rode out my orgasm. “I think you’re ready now.”
My mind was still clearing when he pulled out and I felt the head of his cock poised at my asshole. There was a snap from the container of lube, more drops on my skin, then the wet sound of him stroking himself. Gently, he began to slowly push in, testing me, before pushing in further. It was . . . uncomfortable, but not painful like I expected.
“Oh, shit, baby. Yes!” he cried out as he began to move in deeper. “What a fucking sight.”
He worked his way up in speed, slow at first, then building.
His hands reached between our bodies and began massaging my breasts, pulling and twisting my nipples. He knew my nipples were a weak spot and had me whimpering and moaning in no time.
“That’s it, baby. Feels good . . .”
His moans, deep and resonating, moved through me, turned me on.
His grip tightened. “Fuck! Coming!” He let out a strangled cry, his head burrowed into my shoulder. His hips were flush against my cheeks, each jerk of his cock, sending sensations of pleasure through me. After a moment his body relaxed, his chest resting against my back.
He stayed there for a moment before pulling out and rolling off and onto his back. He worked to catch his breath for a moment before leaning over and kissing one of my ass cheeks.
“Now that was fucking perfect compensation!” he said. “About time this hotel came up with something good.” He rolled onto his side and pulled me to him, kissing me.
“I’m glad that we could come to an agreement,” I replied before I let my ire show. It was only fair. “Though, next time you want to try something kinky, can we do it when I am not on duty, and also, when it is not because of some screwup the hotel did?”
He grimaced. “I was an ass again, wasn’t I? I should have asked you first. I’m sorry. I was so worked up and let it get the best of me.”
“Just keep that in mind next time, Mr. Grayson,” I said, giving him my best glare.
His eyes grew wide. “Yes, ma’am.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out if I’d heard him correctly. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You have manners?”
His lip twitched up. “My mother may have instilled them in me in my youth.”
“You should utilize them more often. Chicks dig manners,” I assured him.
“I’ll keep that in mind as well. Perhaps you should write a handbook. All of this wooing and manners stuff gets confusing.”
I scoffed. “You can run a multi-billion-dollar business empire, but can’t handle courting a woman?”
“Obviously not. I’ve screwed up a lot with a particular woman that I am quite fond of. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve done any of this,” he said, and I sensed a story there, but he didn’t expand.
“Well, I think you can make it up to me. Just refer to your Wikipedia article on wooing,” I said with a smile.
He got up from the bed and headed toward the bathroom. “Flowers? Letters?” He turned to look at me. “Gifts?”
“How about a date out?” I asked, quirking my eyebrow at him.
His eyes widened.
“Or not . . .” I trailed off, suddenly feeling very insecure about whatever was going on between us. I looked away, unable to take his rejection after everything.
The bed dipped, and suddenly I was on my back again, caged beneath him. His eyes were soft, his touch reverent as he cupped my face, forcing me to focus on him.
“I think that’s a perfect idea.”
“Yeah?”
“I see I’ve been selfish with our time together. Believe me, when we are both gone from this hotel, I will take you out on a date anytime you want.”
Relief and joy flooded my chest. All I wanted was more time with him out in the open, and I was finally going to get it. Not only that, but there was the promise of more, of a future outside the hotel.