A new story. I've written the whole thing but I'm still in the titivation stages with the rest of it.
ROOM SERVICE
Chapter 1 – Cold Comfort
Leaning up on one elbow, he watched as she gathered up her things.
He realised then how much he disliked this part of the proceedings. After the endorphin-soaked intimacy of love-making, the ritual of a hasty departure reduced it down to cold, functional sex.
There was an awkwardness, not in her actions but in the atmosphere it created and he knew she was aware of it too. He wanted to challenge her dispassion. She purposefully created a gelidity within the room with her aloofness that made him question what she was even doing here in the first place.
She refused to make eye contact, picking up her white leather handbag and disappearing into the en-suite bathroom without a word.
The tangled mass of thin, crisp sheet lay like stiff meringue peaks at the foot of the bed and dragging it up to his chest he flopped back onto the pillow dejectedly.
It shouldn't be this way.
He gazed across at the far wall and noted the framed print of a stylised New York skyline. Different room, same artwork. He hated that about hotels; that homogenised, photostat feel, the repetition involved in the silent, windowless corridors, the layout of the rooms with their identical beds and linens, chairs, carpets, curtains and white utilitarian bathrooms all the same, all characterless.
For a couple of hours, they had breathed life into this soulless box, gasping, panting, sighing, whispering breath. Sound and motion had transformed their spartan surroundings into a private utopia as pleasure rang out loud and skin journeyed over skin.
He'd wanted to take her someplace better than this after that first time, but she'd refused.
What did it matter? She'd asked. It was reasonably priced, clean and served its purpose. But still, he'd wanted something worthier of her.
He could hear the shower running.
Their time together was nearly over – until the next time she snapped her fingers. That she called the shots was almost an unspoken rule now. But who was he to argue? Whatever morsel of gratification she was prepared to throw him, he would bow down at her feet and eat it up.
He was playing it cool of course but she knew she had him on a leash.
He could recall each of their encounters with exactitude. Dates, times, the clothes she wore, the lingerie she had fired his senses with and the subtle perfume and worked-for sweat that mingled with the cotton sheets. He remembered every word she had uttered from those sweet, full lips whilst she rocked his world. He had to remember everything because he didn't know how long this thing would last.
He heard the snick of the lock and the bathroom door opened. Why did she feel the need to lock herself in there? What was it she had to hide from him when he knew every inch of her now? Was she really that scared of confrontation after the event? Each time they had been to this place, their goodbyes had been brief and perfunctory, bordering on formal. She had set the tone and he had followed, understanding that it was part of the game, the role play, the thrill of this new angle on their relationship. But he needed so much more than that. He knew she was deliberately shutting him out and guessed she was maybe enjoying that feeling of power.
"It's still early," he said, sitting up and stretching languidly. "Wanna grab a bite to eat?"
Swinging around to face him, having retrieved her dusky pink long-line jacket from the narrow wardrobe, he was disheartened by her coolly neutral expression. "Sorry, I've got plans," she said, slipping the jacket on over her chambray blue t-shirt dress.
With who? he stopped himself from asking. And it probably wasn't his business although it kind of bothered him that whoever she'd made her plans with would, like him, be aware of the fact she was no longer wearing a brassiere. The stretchy cotton fabric draped and clung to her naked torso in a way that left little to his keen imagination and he let his eyes slide lower to check for VPL. A subtle line confirmed those pale pink silky panties hadn't been omitted though.
It was abundantly clear that he was being used for sex and it had both surprised and confused him at first. Now it hurt him too.
She bent forward and kissed his cheek lightly. "I'll see you in the morning," she said quietly and there was a warm smile on her freshly glossed lips as she drew back.
He watched her walk to the door, legs looking tanned and svelte in those white court shoes.
"Enjoy your evening."
He didn't think she'd even heard him as she strode out into the hallway and let the door slam shut behind her.
Chapter 2 coming soon