Maybe We Shouldn't...| SCK AU story

13 • What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas

Alternate Narration
Serkan and Eda's POVs

       My traitorous girl parts refuse to back down - they're on high alert. These bloody female hormones have never even made an attempt to follow any instructions when it comes to this stupidly sexy man. How am I supposed to catch a wink, with my hunky boss in the room next to me?

       Every sound coming from Serkan's room is going to make me wonder what he's doing. Does he sleep in his tight or loose boxers? Or does he lay starfish in the middle of his king-sized bed in his birthday suit? Maybe he wears pajama pants. Is he a belly-sleeper -- a 'spooner', or does he lie flat on his back like Dracula? Does he snore? I stare at the walnut color hotel room door as if the answers are hidden in the fake wood grains.

       The door flings open -- zapping me out of my trance. My jaw drops slightly -- only because I manage to lock it in place, just in the nick of time, before it plummet to the ground. I'm in no way prepared for the visual display of the magnificent body that occupies the doorway before me. Like I said -- the Bugatti of the male species.  My heart jackhammers in my chest. A whiff of his fresh manly body wash and shampoo evades my olfactory senses. I close my eyes and inhale. Before I can utter a word, this sexy creature greets me with a knee-buckling smile, and speaks in a nonchalant manner.

       "Hey -- come on in, sweets. I just have to throw on a shirt and shorts, finger dry my hair, and we can head out."  

       Him calling me 'sweets' didn't escape my astute hearing. I think I even detected a victorious grin on his smug handsome face. He leaves the door opened and scoots back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Did he strategize greeting me at the door -- half naked -- with his white hotel towel hanging a smidgen below his insanely sexy and mouth-watering Adonis belt? Regret pricks me. How I wish I hadn't missed so many workout sessions with Alayna.

       I mean, come on. Honestly, this man doesn't play fair. His hair is slightly damp, curling at his nape, and his deliciously lickable abs is glistening with droplets of water from his shower. I had to peel my eyes away from the smooth dips and valleys sprawled across his taut abs, and park my gaze on the colorful geometric designs on the carpet -- to avert my concentration from his Olympian God physique. Universe -- now is as good a time as any, to dump a bucket of ice water on my smoldering body.

      I quickly devote my attention back to my phone, pretending to be enraptured by my screen, when I notice footsteps come to a halt in front of my feet. I glance up and blink a few times, trying to look innocent -- like I haven't spent the last few minutes ogling him when I stepped through the front door. He gazes down at me with a crooked smile -- his eyes dance with mirth.

                                                                                          *****

       The lights reflecting from the hotel and the shops across the way, illuminate the inky water in the oversized lake in front of the Bellagio. We're resting our elbows on the ornate stone railing, eagerly awaiting the 'Fountains of Bellagio Water Show' to commence.

       At exactly 8:00 pm, the underwater lights come on, as water gushes from the circular fountain, 'dancing' to the tune of "Big Spender" -- in perfect synchronicity to the music. This impressive 8.5-acre lake has 1,214 jets that rocket streams of water 460 feet into the air. The illuminated dancing streams of water that shimmy, twirl and spin to the pulse of the music earn crescendo of oohs and ahhs from the fervent crowd of spectators.

       Eda's face lights up, like a child in a candy store. She squeals in delight and claps profusely as the show continues on, crooking her neck to look at the sky-high stream of water jetting up into the  obsidian night. Her unrestrained child-like behaviour unlocks something inside me, and melts my frozen heart. I had to tear my eyes away from her delicious exposed neck -- that parcel of skin that's prime real estate for kissing, nibbling and suckling.