Ambrose couldn't have been more pleased with how the evening was working out. Just like he'd thought, the bar was not his thing. He would've hated it if Claire hadn't been there to distract him. Even then, he hated that he wasn't able to talk to her, to touch her. There were too many eyes around to see things. Heading back to the hotel to chill out for the rest of the night was much more appropriate. And there wouldn't be anyone around to keep watch. Just him and Claire, on their own. Just the way he liked it. I've got to make it clear that I am not trying it on. I don't plan on sleeping with her tonight.
The cab pulled into the hotel and he reluctantly let his hand slip from hers. Even though most of the company would be out enjoying themselves or having an early night, there was the chance some people would be around in the lobby or hallway. He was more worried about someone they knew seeing them together than he was about strangers. He didn't want word getting around and jeopardising Claire's career. A second after they walked into the lobby, he noticed a girl appear beside him. "Hi Dean," she said in a thick Southern accent. He smiled and returned her greeting, barely looking at her. Claire had continued on towards the elevators, but this girl grabbed his arm. "Don't you remember me?" she asked, batting her eyelids. He looked at her; she had short, spikey blond hair, was wearing a short leather skirt and ripped tights, and a tight red singlet. Her nose was pierced, matching her ears. He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't," he replied, trying to walk around her. She pouted at him. "Oh, well, I'm sure I could make you remember," she said, twirling her hair around her finger. He looked at her, trying to hide his building frustration, and then over to Claire. She was standing at the doorway to the elevator lobby, watching this interaction. I need to shake this girl, quickly.
"Look, what's your name?" he asked in a hurry. "It's Erika, with a k, but you should remember that," she whispered, stepping towards him. He pulled his arm back before she could touch it. "Don't you remember? We met in town and you brought me back here. We had a lot of fun together that night, Dean. A lot of fun," she emphasised. He didn't remember that at all. "I thought you may be up for it again tonight." Ambrose still didn't recognise her, but he recognised the look on her face. He'd seen it, and taken advantage of it, plenty of times. He didn't know if this girl was telling the truth about the last time he'd been in town; all the towns and all the girls had kind of rolled into one. Except for one girl. He had no chance of remembering if he'd taken this girl to his room all those months ago. But he sure as hell wasn't going to now. She needs to get out of here, before Claire realises what is going on. He felt increasingly embarrassed by this girl's presence. It was an unwanted reminder of the life he was trying to leave behind. Tangible proof to Claire that he was as bad as they told her he was. He gently put his hand on her shoulder and tried to lead her back towards the door. "Erika, look. I'm sure we did have fun last time around, but that's not me anymore. It was a one off, I'm afraid," he told her, trying to sound genuine and firm. She looked at him in disbelief. "You told me to find you next time you were in town. That's what you said." Erika looked upset. Holy shit, Jon. You really were a sleaze.
"Is everything alright?" Ambrose jumped at the sound of Claire's voice. Shit. Erika turned to look her. "Who the hell is this?" she asked, a cold tone to her voice. She looked Claire up and down and turned back to him. "Who is this, Dean? Is this your new hired whore? Is this who you're taking back to your room tonight? Huh?" Ambrose tried to shush her while she spoke, turning her away from Claire. Hotel staff were beginning to look their way. He shot a quick look at Claire, who looked completely bewildered. Erika wouldn't be stopped. "Get your hands off me, you filthy liar!" She shook herself free from his arm and turned back to Claire. "You enjoy yourself tonight, slut. Because next time he comes back to town he'll have some other whore in his bed and he won't even remember your name!" That's it, Ambrose thought. She can say what she likes about me, I deserve it. But no one talks to Claire that way. "Listen to me," he said aggressively. "That woman isn't coming back to my bed. She is a WWE employee and we have just returned from a publicity event. You need to get your facts straight before overreacting." Erika's face softened. She took a look at Claire, who was giving her an excellent death stare. That's it, girl, he thought internally. He wanted to laugh but he needed to address the situation. "I think it's best you leave, Erika. You've made quite the scene, and neither of us could do with any further embarrassment." A member of hotel staff had made their way to them and offered to escort her out of the building. Ambrose nodded his thanks, and Erika was led out of the lobby. He sighed. He didn't want to turn back to look at Claire. I've never been more embarrassed in my life. And that's saying something.
He walked over to Claire, and asked if she was alright. She nodded silently and they entered the elevator without speaking. This is awkward. "I'm so sorry," he managed to spit out. "I deserved every second of that, but you didn't." Ambrose hung his head; he felt so ashamed. To his surprise, Claire reached out and laced her fingers through his. She pulled herself close to him. "What you did before you met me is what you did before you met me." Ambrose felt a wave of warmth run through him. Is she really forgiving me for that? "Or who, as the case may be," she continued, chuckling. He couldn't help but let out a laugh. I can't believe she's still talking to me. He turned to look at her. "That really didn't bother you?" Claire let out a laugh. "Well, I can't say that being called a slut and a whore was enjoyable, but she doesn't know me. I can't take that personally." Ambrose nodded. "You're on a completely different level from her. Not that I remember," he said, hanging his head. I never thought it would come back to bite me this hard. You made your bed, son. Now you're f—king lying in it. "Jon, look at me," Claire said, pulling on his arm. He turned to her. She's so gorgeous. "Everyone has a history. It's in the past. Leave it there." Gorgeous and smart. What the hell is she doing here with me? "I can see you're different now. So can we drop it? We've got hockey to watch," she said, grinning at him. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, we can drop it." She squeezed his hand and he shook the whole thing from his mind.
They went to his room and the first thing Claire did was kick off her shoes. "Holy crap I hate those things," she mumbled, looking delighted to have them off. "Sorry to ruin the illusion of the sophisticated lady I tried out tonight. Wish I could've worn my running shoes," she laughed. Ambrose looked at her. Walking around in bare feet, in the designer dress, she looked even more appetising. She was more her now, more natural. He turned the TV on quickly, to distract his mind and remind Claire that he didn't have an ulterior motive. There was hockey on, and Claire settled in on the second bed, her legs tucked under her. Ambrose rang room service and they ordered food and chocolates. He settled in next to her on the bed, but a respectful distance away. Over the game, they discussed her chat with Carl, his media session and their plans for the morning. Claire got up and went to the bathroom, and when she settled back on the bed, he noticed she'd closed the distance between them. Their legs were now touching, and he asked himself what a gentleman would do. I'm not sure, I don't know any…
"You're doing a me," he heard her say." He screwed his nose up and looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked. She was lying back, propped up by pillows. She looked very comfortable. "You're overthinking. I don't know what about, but I can see those cogs turning, boy. Stop it." He chuckled softly and nodded his head. "Jon?" she asked, with a grin. "Yes?" he returned. He watched as some colour appeared in her cheeks and she tried hard to maintain his eye contact. "Can you please kiss me again?" Woah. I was not expecting that. Looking down at her, smiling and blushing, there was only ever going to be one answer to that. "Only because you said please," he laughed. He adjusted himself on the bed and leaned down, placing his lips on hers. This time he could feel she was prepared. Her soft lips welcomed his, moving slowly in time with him. He pulled away and looked down at her. She smiled up at him and brought her hand up to his neck. The warmth of her touch spread down his spine, and she pulled him back down to her. This time, their kiss was more heated. Their lips were moving quicker, their mouths opened further and their breathing became ragged. Remember your promise, a thought flicked through his head quickly. But it faded as soon as he felt Claire's tongue slip into his mouth. A small moan rumbled in the back of his throat, and he brought his hand down to Claire's face, bringing her as close to him as possible. Their tongues moved around each other before they broke for breath. He rested his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes. Neither of them said anything, before he lowered his lips to hers once again.
They had repositioned themselves while they'd been kissing, and he was half lying on her chest as they made out like horny teenagers. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. The feel of her fingertips on his scalp sent electricity through him. He had one arm providing the leverage to lean down to her, and the other he was working very hard to keep in her hair or on her neck. He didn't want it to move any lower; he didn't trust himself. Already he could feel himself reacting to being his close to her. I wonder if she's feeling the same. His heart was racing, and he was fighting gallantly to remain composed. He knew if she wanted to, he wouldn't be able to resist, despite all the promises he'd made her, and himself. They continued kissing, and he felt her place a hand over his, and take it down to her side. He gulped. Not below the hips, not below the hips he chanted to himself as he ran his hand up her side; along her ribcage, up and over her shoulder, and then the same in reverse. His hand passed over her hip and down the outside of her thigh. Her legs were soft and smooth, and he wondered how they'd feel wrapped around his waist. He felt the contours of her quad muscle as he brought his hand up along the top of her dress, and over the hips he'd marvelled from afar so often. He let his fingers draw up along the side of her boob as he brought his hand up to her face again, and felt her hips buck slightly. Holy shit, he thought, pulling back from her. He bit his lip and inhaled deeply. I can't handle this much longer.
Claire looked up at him. He looked like she felt; flustered, hot and horny. He might be on a dry run by his standards, but she could guarantee it wasn't as long as hers. Not that it mattered to her before this moment. But now, every nerve in her body was on fire. He was breathing heavily and could see in his eyes he was holding himself back. She sighed. I can't not tell him. It's not fair on either of us to get carried away. "I've gotta tell you something," she said frankly. "I'm on my period." He dropped his head and chuckled. "That's the best news I've had in a long time," he laughed. "Oh yeah?" Claire asked, amused. He nodded. "Definitely. I was wondering if you were going to try and corrupt my innocence. If you think I give it up on the first night, Miss Harris, then I am ashamed of you!" They chuckled together and he rolled on to his side beside her. "But really, I needed an excuse to stop. Or I very easily could've broken my promise." Claire's brow furrowed. "What promise?" she asked. "The one I made you, and myself. To treat you differently." He reached for her hand. "If, and that's if, not when, this happens between us, I don't want it to be in a hotel room. That would put you on the same level as the rest of them, as that skank from the lobby, and you are so not on her level. It's going to be different. It's going to mean something." Claire felt her chest swell. She leaned up and kissed him. "Well, isn't that sweet?" she said in a mocking tone. "You're lucky about the period scenario or I'd probably have ruined that." He let out a full bellied laugh. "Yeah, I actually think you're right there."
Claire cuddled up into his chest and they watched the final minutes of the hockey. She felt his hand come to rest on the curve of her hip, and she let her hand fall onto him. She'd felt the muscles of his back and arms as hands had roamed around his upper body while they were kissing, and now she could feel his defined chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Do you even remember what you were so concerned about? she asked herself. In this moment, she felt safe, happy, desired and content. How could she have ever fought against this? This is right. He was right.
When Claire opened her eyes, she heard Adam Sandler's voice. She blinked a few times as her eyes focused on the television. She recognized the scene, towards the end of Happy Gilmore. "Hey there, sleeping beauty," she heard Ambrose say. She turned her head up to face him. He grinned down at her softly. "You dozed off there for a while." Claire felt so embarrassed. Way to kill the mood. "Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she said profusely. He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It was pretty cute from this perspective," he said, running his fingers through her hair. Claire leaned up to check the time. "Holy shit, it's 2am!" Ambrose nodded. "I didn't want to wake you, for your own benefit and mine," he laughed. "I better get going," she said reluctantly. "Lucy will be wondering where I am, and she'll be able to put two and two together…" He nodded. "Yeah, that's probably best." Claire got up off the bed, remembering she was in Eden's dress, and tried to rub the creases out of it. Ambrose got up and made his way towards the door. "See you in the morning?" he asked as she came towards her. She slid her hands around his waist and pulled herself into his chest. "Sure," she replied as she stood up on her toes and kissed him. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her against him. They kissed softly, and Claire had to calm herself. She pulled away from him, and said goodnight. "Goodnight, sleep well," Ambrose said as he opened the door for her. "Bye," Claire said, not moving. Ambrose smirked. "Bye," he said. Claire looked at him, and quickly jumped forward to place a kiss on his lips. He laughed. "Get out or I'll make you stay here!" he chuckled. She waved at him as she walked down the hall, and as she rode the elevator to her floor, she sighed. She was definitely off that cliff now. There was no going back.
She entered her room quietly so not to wake Lucy. This was the latest she'd been out since they'd roomed together, and she was starting to think of excuses for where she'd been. Lucy wasn't stupid. She'd have known Claire and Ambrose had left the bar together, even if it had taken an hour or so for her to realise. Claire tiptoed into the bathroom to take her makeup off, and peered around the corner to see if the light was hitting Lucy's bed. But Lucy wasn't there. Wow, must've be quite the party if they're still going. Claire's first thought was that she could've spent longer with Ambrose. But as she got into bed, she knew she'd be thankful for it in the morning. Tomorrow was going to be a big day; she had a lot to do, and she wanted to nail the spots to prove to Zane, Carl and herself that she was up to it. Time to step up to the plate.