Chapter 7: Hotel Night

Rob had changed plans at the last minute—his wife’s sister trip got delayed, so the hotel became our safer Friday escape instead of his house. Another full week had passed since the after-hours conference-room marathon on Tuesday; Dave was back on the road again, and tonight we could finally take our time without the office walls closing in.

The Friday evening traffic crawled as I drove the twenty minutes to the address Rob had texted. Another week had passed since the Saturday all-nighter—Dave’s sales schedule had him gone again, just as Rob had promised his wife would be out of town. My sundress—a simple knee-length navy one with thin straps—clung lightly to my skin from the late summer heat. No bra. No panties. Just the dress and my black heels. Dave had left that morning for his two-night sales trip, kissing me goodbye with his usual quick peck. I’d told him it was a last-minute client dinner that might run late. The lie sat heavy in my chest, but my body already hummed with anticipation, bare and ready beneath the fabric.

Rob’s black BMW was already in the discreet side lot when I pulled in. He waited in the lobby wearing jeans and a charcoal button-down, sleeves rolled once, the first time I’d ever seen him out of office clothes. He looked relaxed, dangerous, mine. My pulse kicked up the second our eyes met.

We checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Harlan. The fake name made something low in my belly tighten instantly. The clerk didn’t blink. Rob’s hand rested at the small of my back the whole time, warm through the thin dress.

The elevator ride to the fourth floor was pure foreplay. The doors closed and he had me pinned against the mirrored wall in one smooth motion. His mouth found the curve of my neck, sucking lightly while one hand slipped straight under my hem. Fingers brushed bare, slick skin. I gasped, legs parting for him without thought.

“Been hard all day thinking about having you like this,” he murmured against my throat. “All night. No rush. No interruptions.”

Room 412 opened with a soft beep. King bed dressed in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling window with a private balcony overlooking the city lights. Big mirror opposite the bed. Walk-in shower visible through the half-open bathroom door. The faint scent of hotel soap—clean, slightly floral—hung in the air, mixed with the cool blast from the AC.