Page 78 of Wild Thing
Perfect night in.
I was desperate for some self pleasure after this afternoon's escapade in the pool. What a joyous fluke that was.
Being that intimate with Brax, touching him and seeing his body again up close… abs on abs, rock hard pecs, arms so cut with muscles that I never knew existed. His entire body was toned and carved to perfection underneath all of that glorious ink.
I shuffled out of the bathroom wearing the hotel’s white fluffy robe. Dialing #9 for room service, I ordered a club sandwich.
Syncing my phone up to the speakers, I scrolled through my playlists. I was in the mood for something romantic and borderline depressing.
Lana Del Ray.
But what album? Ultraviolence? Norman Fucking Rockwell? Yes. Norman Fucking Rockwell.
I pressed play and strolled back into the steamy bathroom. I shrugged the robe off and slowly dipped one leg into the massive standalone tub.
Before I could place my other leg in, there was a knock on the door.
Room service already?
Shrugging the heavy bathrobe back on, I rushed out of the bathroom and, not bothering to check the peephole, opened the door. I had to blink twice to make sure I was seeing right and not hallucinating.
It was Brax.
“Brax!” I exclaimed, ducking my head outside of my room. I darted my eyes down the hallway to see if anyone else was there. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
My mouth hung open, but I didn't answer him.
Without waiting for permission, he pushed the door open wide, and entered. He was wearing blue jeans, a plain white shirt and backwards hat.
He glanced into the steamy bathroom and clocked the bubble bath.
And the tunes.
I prayed he didn't notice the vibrator.
Goddamn, man-child / You fucked me so good that I almost said I love you…Lana crooned.
“A bubble bath and Lana Del Ray?” Brax looked at me with his eyebrows raised, judging me for my choice in music. “And is that a vibrator?”
Horrified, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Shut up!”
I walked past him into the living area, anything to get away from the pink vibrator.
I wasn't sure why I felt embarrassed. I literally fucked myself on camera for this man less than 24 hours ago.
Brax leaned against the work desk, taking off his hat and fiddling with it, before putting it back on backwards again.
Facing him, I leaned against the back of the lounge.
Something was up.
I folded my arms across my chest, the fabric almost swallowing me. “Brax, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He wanted to say something. It was like he was fighting himself internally… debating whether or not to speak.
Obviously this wasn’t going to be anything good.
