Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.
PROMPT: No Vacancy
Emmett stood with his hands against the desk, a muscle in his jaw ticking. He wasn't going to get angry. Nope. That wouldn't solve anything. He was going to remain calm and collected.
"I'm so sorry, Dr McCarthy, but we don't have any more rooms available."
Emmett nodded, squeezing his lips together as the word motherfucker threatened to erupt.
"How can you overbook a hotel?" She said. Her voice grated on him, ran over his spine like sharp nails and set his teeth on edge. She was Rosalie Fucking Hale and the bane of his life. Nay. The bane of his existence. They were constantly arguing. She couldn't understand his point of view, and he couldn't understand hers. They fought about everything. How best to lecture students. How to get papers published. Even on how lectures should be scheduled. (That one had almost caused a campus-wide stand-still).
They did not get along. And now, there was one room left and two of them. Yes, the hotel that was booked for the university's annual conference was full. FULL. There was not a single bed or other room available. And because the university liked to hold the conference in a bum-fuck middle-of-nowhere town, there was literally nowhere else to stay. The magic that was Air BnB had yet to hit the majority of the older population, and motels were a place of "prostitution and debauchery" according to one resident.
"It seems there was some kind of mistake," the woman behind the desk told them.
"Mistake?" Rose questioned as Emmett stared at the women and was deeply questioning his decision to enter into academia.
"It happens sometimes," the woman said with a shrug, her brown hair bouncing as she did so.
"Okay, so my next question, what are we supposed to do?" Rose asked, raising her perfect eyebrow. How she was maintaining her cool was beyond Emmett. His blood pressure was rising. Conferences were okay… once you got in and settled. The travelling to and from, the arranging the travel – all of it was a pain in the ass. He didn't mind lecturing at the conference. He didn't mind engaging with other academics. He didn't mind the good-natured verbal sparring that often came from them. But he didn't like the actual organisation of it all. And seeing as this was a yearly thing, Emmett had (stupidly) thought, what could go wrong? How could the higher-ups possibly fuck up a situation that was planned every year… in the same town… using the same companies.
The woman behind the desk began typing on the keyboard, her obnoxiously long nails making an irritating clicking noise as she did. Eventually, she looked up. "We can offer you a discount on your next stay if you book within the next three months."
Emmett blinked. "This is an annual conference. We won't be re-booking in the next three months." He was tempted to tell her he wouldn't ever be coming back here. Mainly because if he had to stand next to Rosalie for much longer, he'd be in prison for murder. She wasn't particularly annoying per se, she just rubbed him up the wrong way.
"That's the best I can offer." The tone of her voice let both Emmett and Rose know she was getting tired of this conversation.
"Okay, thank you. We'll sort this out between ourselves," Angela said as she pushed her way in, having listened to the conversation and clearly decided it couldn't go on any longer. Everyone else was settled in their rooms, no doubt enjoying the free tea and coffee and luxuriating in the fact that they actually had somewhere to stay.
Delicately, but with a force unexpected from someone her size, she steered both Rose and Emmett away from the desk.
"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Emmett asked, his head starting to throb.
"You're just going to have to share," Angela told them, dragging them into the elevator.
"Absolutely not!" Rosalie said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am not sharing with this behemoth."
"I'm surprised you know such a big word," Emmett said, smirking a little as Rosalie's nostrils flared.
"Don't be a dick," Angela chided. "You both earned the right to be here and have fantastic papers to present. The department is going to benefit greatly from your talks."
Ah, the department. For a second, Emmett forgot that Angela's sole focus was the department. He appreciated it was hers to run as she saw fit, but he wished she was thinking about more than that right now. He wasn't sure that his sanity could take much more. Surely, she had a duty of care to her staff?
"They'll greatly benefit from one of our talks," Rosalie muttered under her breath.
Emmett glared at her out of the corner of his eye. He fucking hated her. She really thought she was something special because she earned scholarships her entire life. Emmett had worked just as hard, if not harder and yet, because he was from some southern town where everyone knew everything, she regarded him as lesser. It infuriated him to no end. Not everyone had rich parents. Some people had to actually work for what they got. Not that Rosalie would recognise hard work.
The elevator dinger, and Angela exited the elevator, walking with purpose and determination.
"Ladies first," Emmett gestured. He might hate Rose, but his mama taught him manners.
Rose gave him a harsh smile and stepped out, pulling her wheelie case behind her. Even the noise of that made Emmett want to spit venom.
Like a small child, he traipsed after them, fury burning through his every cell.
Deftly, Angela opened the hotel door and gestured for both Rose and Emmett to enter the room. Once they had walked in, she followed and shut the door.
"Problem solved," she declared upon seeing the room. "There's a bed and a sofa. Toss a coin." With a wink, she turned on her heel and left.
At the same time, both Emmett and Rose advanced towards the bed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rose asked indignantly.
"Claiming the bed," Emmett said, not quite believing he was in this situation.
Rose huffed. "I thought you were a gentleman."
"Not to fucking bitches," Emmett told her, placing his bag on the bed a second before Rose did the same. He loved his mama and hoped she'd forgive him for his behaviour, but there was only so much a gentleman could take. He was six foot four; there was no way he was fitting on the two-seater couch pushed against the wall.
"It's sweet that you think calling me a bitch offends me," Rose chimed back, her voice hideously sweet.
"I forgot that nothing thaws through that cold heart of yours."
Unbeknownst to Emmett, both he and Rose were stepping closer to one another.
"I'm surprised you can hold a conversation, given all the steroids you've probably taken."
The chuckle that escaped Emmet couldn't have been helped. "Get a new fucking insult," he told her. Did she really think that was original? Emmett had heard that since he was 16 years old and filled out. He was built like a linebacker. He enjoyed going to the gym and was blessed with a good physique.
"Get a new fucking room," Rose fired right back.
"I would if I could," Emmett said. "The last thing I want is to be stuck here with you for three days."
"Finally! We can agree on something," Rose retorted, sarcasm lacing her voice.
Emmett wasn't sure why he did what he did. Maybe he could have put it down to jet lag. Or maybe it's because there is a fine line between hate and love. But Emmett glanced down. His eyes moved from her pale blue ones to her ruby-red lips. And then he was getting hard.
He remembered what it felt like to have those lips on him. To have her lips wrapped around his cock as she brought him to the edge, teasing him before she climbed atop and showed him just how much of a passionate woman she was. He remembered how she felt in his arms, her head back as he brought her to ecstasy, sweet moans filling his ears as she cried out his name.
Yep. He and Rose had done the one thing you're not meant to do. Sleep with the people you work with. It had been once… okay, twice… okay, an entirely misjudged weekend of passion. He hadn't meant it to get that far. He'd gone over to discuss the psychological impact of drug use on family members for a paper they were being forced to write. They had been pushed together by Angela, who felt that their contrasting styles would work well together. They'd begun work. And not long after, the arguing had started. And then, before he knew it, they were naked and on the couch. Things had progressed pretty quickly, and they'd moved to the bedroom. Then, the bathroom. Then, back to the bedroom.
In Sunday morning's cold, hard light, the mistake was realised, and both had fumbled, rushing to get dressed. Emmett had run out to his car because what the fuck had he been thinking? He couldn't stand the woman. And yet he'd spent an entire weekend balls deep inside her.
Monday at work had been fun, and they'd resumed their usual animosity, this time with a bit more bite, both seemingly spurned that the other had come to regret it so much.
"Are you really getting fucking hard right now?" Rose asked, eyes ablaze.
But not with anger. Emmett could tell that much. Her eyes had a sparkle to them. She was turned on. And her eyes weren't the only giveaway.
"I can see your nipples from a mile away, princess, so don't give me that shit."
Rose's entire face flushed, her cheeks, forehead and even her nose lightly up a delicious pink shade before she took a step back and breathed deeply.
"You're such an asshole," she told him, teeth gritted and chest heaving.
"And you're a bitch," he spat back, a smile on his face as she turned and stomped into the bathroom, shutting the door with a ferocious slam. He did enjoy irritating her. It gave him an odd thrill.
As Rose paced around the bathroom – the walls were thin, and he could hear her footsteps – Emmett sat on the bed and made himself a promise.
Before this conference was over, Rosalie fucking Hale would be screaming his name… hopefully in pleasure. He had to have another taste of her, another feel of her soft curves beneath his hands. He'd been kidding himself these last few months, pretending he didn't want her. Actually, he more than wanted her, he fucking craved her.
Maybe sharing a hotel room wouldn't be that miserable after all…
