I'm sorta still out of it, still shocked by the guy downstairs. I'm not sure who he is, and if it's him, if he's the one with my fifteen thousand dollars on his bank account. My parent's fifteen thousand dollars. Since I don't know who I hired, I don't know who isn't. Literally, anyone new I meet can be the one to take me out.

Maybe it's not a scam after all.

I knock twice on the door of my next room.

"Housekeeping."

The handle has no 'do not disturb' sign, so I wait in case there's someone inside. The room is occupied, so I don't want to be rude by just bursting in there. After all, it was still mid-morning in a hotel so anything could be happening in there right now.

When the door opens, I hear the breath that's coming out of my mouth in a loud gasp.

Masen.
Bare-chested.

Full of ink.

Phone to his ear.

"I'll have to call you back. Something came up." He hangs up, smiling at me, and tucks the phone into the pocket of his baby blue jeans. They ride ridiculously low on his hips and the first button is undone. I have to just look away.

I stand glued to the beige, hallway carpet, unable to move. I can smell he's been smoking in here even though it's against hotel policy.

"Hi, little Doe." He leans against the frame of the door, looking too big for the room — for the door, for the Greenview. His ego takes in all the space, it overpowers me and intimidates me. His voice is low, seductive without even trying.

I try to figure out what to say to him, try to focus my eyes on something else, try to look away from his inked chest and abdomen.

"You're staring." He's blunt, as he was the first time I saw him. "Kinda rude, love." He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"I wasn't expecting to see you… here… I—"

"You work here?" His eyes smolder and his grin is dangerous, making him look even more gorgeous. There's this dark edge to him, this arrogance and confidence that should make me want to take a step back and leave. But instead, it only pulls me closer, draws me in. I'm a moth and he's a fucking flame.

"Seeing as I knocked on your door announcing 'housekeeping' and seeing me dressed like this isn't enough information?" I arch a brow and mirror his posture.

"You're awfully snarky, little Doe." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and smirks at me.

"Then why are you fucking smiling?" I challenge.

"Because I fucking like it. That's why."

A/N:

Are you all ready for tomorrow? Sunday posting bonanza? LOL.
Go read Wicked Games by creaatingmadness. It's her new WIP and as prereader I can tell you it's gonna get SO good. (like, really good)

xoxo