Knocking up the Bride.

(Getting into the elevator.)

Chapter four:

I look up at the murals on the ceiling. This must be how a medieval peasant felt when she saw Notre Dame for the first time. It's awe inspiring... but not off putting. Down on the floor, there's a hint of elegant hospitality in the careful arrangement of the seats and tables.

My gaze slides toward Travis. After all, he's the most fascinating thing in this hotel. He's obviously got money, but seems to down to earth to show off. My experience says if he's the type who can afford a room at a hotel like this, he should've done something like show off his Porsche or whatever to attract me. But nope. Nothing of that sort.

And the fact that he's confident enough to not bother with such insane attempts stokes my desire for him.

I shift my weight, trying to relieve the hot sensation between my legs. As soon as the smartly dressed clerk hands over the key card, Travis takes my hand again. He leads me unerringly into a waiting elevator, as though he knows the layout of of the hotel.

Before the doors can close, a couple of people join us. I bite my lip, my shoulders sagging a bit.