Red Heart

Part Nine.

"Hold on . . . are you afraid of planes?" I teased Mr. Williams.

"Everyone has fears Ms. Parker, mine just seems to be flying." His fingers were trembling and his leg was bouncing. I giggled at the sight.

When we were about to lift off he gripped my hand. It seemed like a reaction but he kept it there for the entire flight. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest.

I really need to get laid. Getting this man out of my head is my major goal on this trip. He's arrogant, quiet, and ridiculously nonchalant.

I'm sitting in the lobby waiting for Mr.Williams to check in. I can't believe I have to share a room with this man.

Be professional Scarlet. We walk into an empty elevator and he pressed the button. I refuse to make eye contact. Eye contact has always been my weak spot (that and competition). When we arrive to our floor Asher is the first to leave the elevator. I quickly follow him and he unlocks the door.

It's huge. I don't think I've ever been in a hotel as nice as this. Coming from a trailer park in the middle of nowhere my life isn't exactly luxury. I gasp when I see the bathroom, it's gorgeous. I stop in my tracks when I see a singular bedroom and one bed.

Asher is already sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He runs his hands through his thick black hair and looks at me. I take a deep breath. "Is there anyway we can get it changed-" I tried to ask.

"I talked to the manager already . . . he said they're fully booked." Asher explained.

"Well . . shit." I mumbled.

"It doesn't have to be weird, I can take the floor." Asher offered.

"No way Mr. Williams. You're my superior, you're also a billionaire, so you're not used to sleeping in . . . bad conditions. In fact, I can take the floor. The floor on this hotel costs more than the trailer I lived in as a kid. It's luxury." I continued.

"It's tile . . . It's way to hard to sleep on. Just . . . sleep with me." My eyes widened, so did his.

"Not like that . . just sleeping." He corrected.

"Of course." I confirmed.

Eventually we got settled in and I decided to take a shower first. I needed to wash away every bit of thoughts I could. I washed my hair and my body before I realized I need a release to maybe take care of all this tension I have.

I run my hands down my soaked body. Gently squeezing my breasts. I use my imagination and this time I let myself . . . think. I picture his hands on me kissing every part of my body. My hand slips down to my heat and I rub my ache. I imagine his tongue on my clit and never leaving. Before I know it I'm silently whispering his name. When my release comes it feels like electricity flowing slowly throughout my body. My soft moans were muffled by my own hands. I hoped on everything, I was quiet enough.

When I get done with my shower I realize I forgot my clothes on top of the bed. I open the door in my towel and he's already in front of it holding my clothes.

Shit.

His jaw is clenched and his breathing is rapid. Embarrassment floods over me and I turn bright red. "Scarlet . . . is this what you call being professional?" He said taking a step forward. I stay where I am and look up at him, not knowing what to say. His lustful look in his eyes is just enough to make me clench my legs together. He finally lets himself drink me in.

Hotel towels have never been likely to cover my entire body, always too short or small. My breathing sounds increase as he takes a closer step towards me. He puts his hand to my cheek and reads my face.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be Ms. Parker." Before I know it my clothes are in my arms and he's stormed out of the door. My body is left aching and even more confused than it was earlier. Mostly I'm just embarrassed. I preached professionalism but caved in to my inappropriate thoughts.

Don't make it harder than it has to be.

What the hell does that mean? That I'm making it hard for him to be professional or maybe . . . I made him uncomfortable. He's got to hate me now. I was supposed to be the professional one. One he could trust.

I dress in my oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts. They're a little short for my liking but they're comfy. I chose against putting on any underwear or bra just cause it's uncomfortable.

I walk out of the bathroom and to the bedroom. I find Asher sitting by the open window smoking a cigarette. The sight is enough for my jaw to drop. I quickly close it as he looks towards me. I grab a plastic bag from my suitcase and put my dirty clothes inside. "I-I'm sorry for going against my word." I apologized.

"Don't worry about it. I just wasn't expecting to hear . . . that. It's really me invading your privacy if you think about it. So, I'm sorry."

He stood up and walk towards me. I instinctively took a step back this time. He held his hand out to me. "Friends?" He asked.

"Friends?" I repeated. I was surprised he would suggest something like that because it seems unprofessional. After what I just did . .

"How can you want to be friends with someone who just . . ."

"Scarlet it's human nature. You're a woman who knows herself and what she likes. Don't be embarrassed. Just because you're sexually attracted to something doesn't mean you have to be with it romantically. You don't have to act on it."

"Besides it's not like I'm not sexually attracted to you. You're a very beautiful woman. Not to mention strong, independent, and incredibly intelligent. I'd be an idiot not to think about you. I just would never act on it because it would jeopardize my career."

"But that hasn't stopped you before."

"That was different. Shes not someone I work with every single day. So just remember boundaries are key." He smiles at me and my heart melts.

"Yeah . . . I guess you're right." I slip into the bed and grab my book on the nightstand. I put on my reading glasses and read, to make myself tired. I slowly fall asleep and don't notice when he slips into bed.