Jamieson
Setting her back on her feet, making my way down, I kiss her forehead and nose until I reach those scrumptious lips. Grabbing up the loofa, I soap it up and brush it along her body.
“That tickles,” she says as I trail it over her chest.
“That’s a new one,” I tell her between kisses against her soft skin.
“This is nice, but I haven’t given you near the same care, Mr. Crown.”
Pausing, I think on what she’s said. Carli doesn’t mean it in a way to sting, but it does. Placing the loofa on the side, I capture her mouth with mine, soaking up every ounce of sweetness she offers, then I take a step back.
“When you’re done washing up, meet me in the living room.” I kiss her once more on the head. “I’ll get the food sent up.”
Pulling down a towel, rubbing it against my skin before wrapping myself in it, I kick myself. Why do I still let something as little as saying Mister bother me as much as it does? Yeah, my dad is dead, and he was Mr. Crown. Maybe I don’t feel privileged enough to have the title. Years of being told I wasn’t good enough takes a toll on your psyche.
Then there’s Carli.
Have I ever thought this long and hard about a girl? About how I want her around to torture me constantly? No. But to a point, I do. She gives me a run for my money with her sass. Carli doesn’t let me get away with anything, and it frustrates me when she won’t do as I ask. She seems pretty determined to return to Japan, and I’m not sure I can stop her. Do I want her more than a quick fuck and go? Yes. I realized that weeks ago.
Pulling out a new pair of pants and a T-shirt, I dress. Drying my hair and beard, I phone the front desk. On the second ring, there’s an answer.
“Shutters, how may I help you, Mr. Crown?” Again.
“Could you send up the order I placed earlier, please?”
“Of course, sir. We’ll have it up there shortly.”
Before hanging up, I add, “And send up a few bottles of sparkling water as well.”
“Yes. Of course. It will be there in ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” Setting the portable phone back down, Carli walks out to the room, naked, with a towel wrapped around her head.
“Well, isn’t that a sight for sore eyes.”
Leaning on the door frame, hip out, Carli grins. “Someone tore my panties to shreds, and the rest of my clothes are out there.”
“Yes. Yes I did. And I’d do it again.” Walking to the porch, I grab up her clothes and walk them over to her. “You know, there’s a housecoat in the bathroom for you to wear. You didn’t have to come out naked.”
“Really?” She smirks. Yeah, she didn’t care. “I thought you’d like this better. Was I wrong, Jamieson?”
“No, not at all. But you’ll need another shower.” Running a hand down her chest, trailing slowly across her stomach until I reach that neat looking pussy, I dip a finger within the folds. In an instant, Carli has me hard once more.
As she visibly shudders, I dip inside the warmth. “At this rate, all we’ll do is fuck, Carli.”
“Maybe that’s my devious plan, Jamieson.”
“Are you trying to distract me from asking you more about why you’re leaving?”
With a knock on the door, I remove my hand. Trying to give me a pissed off look for leaving her wet again, I watch her walk off to the bathroom. Waiting until she’s out of view, I walk to the door. Licking my fingers, loving the taste of her, I groan and adjust my cock to the side. Laying my shirt over it—because the last thing some poor person needs is to be shocked by my raging hard-on—I make sure I’m presentable.
With another knock on the door, I call out, “Yeah, one sec.” Popping the lock and opening up, I find a stout Asian man standing there with a table laden with food trays.
“Good evening, Mr. Crown. Your food, sir.”
Standing to the side, allowing him in, he wheels the cart to the table on the far side of the room. As he’s laying it out on the table, Carli strolls out, rubbing her hair in the towel.
“You remembered to get me...” Pausing, she stares at the waiter. She’s as white as a ghost. “A salad.” Dropping the towel, it flutters to the ground as she watches him move through the room.
Looking at her, then the man, it’s obvious to anyone she’s shocked. “Do you know each other?”
Blinking, she doesn’t say a word. She just stares and stares, as the man finishes what he came to do. As he turns to leave, his sinister smile is dark and cold.
Looking at Carli, pushing the cart toward the door, he says something to her in Japanese. I have no idea what it means, but she obviously does, as she swiftly steps in his path.
With a few choice and harshly said words, she soon relents and allows him to leave. Before closing the door, he bows low and says “Oyabun” before closing the door behind him.
“Carli?”
She doesn’t turn my way. She just stares at the door and the retreating man, visibly shaken and shuddering like a leaf. He really bothered her.
And I mean to know why.