The Devil's Mistress

~Chapter 3~

The Ritz-Carlton Hotel was known to be one of the most luxurious taverns in New York, yet in paid little to no attention to the elaborate detail of my suite as I entered it. Instead, I took interest in the large mirror that hung on the wall, and later disappeared into the bedroom, falling back onto the bed. It greeted me with it's cool cotton sheets, the scent of potpourri lingering. Exhaling deeply, I took in the scent while thinking about Derrick. His face, his hair, his hands; the way he wore a suit. The idea of seducing and breaking such a mature person... what an arousing thought. I quickly drew myself upright and sauntered off toward the velvet drapes, pulling them closed. The room dimmed, making for a cozier, more private atmosphere, and I smirked. Hundreds of people below would casually glance up at my curtain-covered window and think nothing of it. They had no idea who I was or what I planned to do to myself in my spare time. It was my little secret. With this in mind, I slipped off my jacket and let it fall in a heap onto the floor. Slender digits teased the edges of my designer tank top, lifting the fabric midway over my hips before I was interrupted by a knock on the door. Silence followed, then another knock; forcing me to fix my shirt. I ignored my jacket and left it to lie helplessly on the floor as I exited the bedroom and headed for the door. The mystery visitor was working on their third knock when I finally pulled the door open. Standing on the other side, clutching an open wallet in one hand and a briefcase in the other, I came face to face for the second time that day, with Derrick Deville.

"So. You thought you could get away with it did you?" He strode into my hotel room without a spoken invitation, setting his briefcase down whilst maintaining a strict, no nonsense demeanor. "Do you know what I'm talking about?" Silence. "No? okay, sit down". He pointed a demanding finger toward the empty couch, coming to sit beside me. His wallet was open, and rested limply atop his knee. "You returned this to me earlier today, did you not?" "I did". "You also declined my offer to buy you a drink, yes?" "Mhm..." "And you claim that your reasoning behind that choice was because it would be inappropriate due to my relationship status, correct?" "Correct". He nodded as if to verify my responses. "And then you just happen to leave before I have the chance to pay for my own drink..." He lifted his shoulders into an overdramatic shrug, shaking his head. "Not many people would think too much about our little encounter. In fact, I'm sure most of it would've slipped my own mind if I hadn't had to pay for my drink... You see, I'd returned to the bar after you'd left and opened my wallet only to find that my credit card was gone. In its place, I found a note". He fished out a small, hand written letter from the inside pocket of his wallet. On it, written in black cursive, was the name of the hotel I was staying in, my room number, and my signature. "Now, I'm going to be civil and simply request that you return my belongings to me". He sat my card onto the table before tilting his wallet toward me to show its lack of dollar bills. "That's right. I said belongings, as in plural; because not only did you steal my credit card, you stole approximately two hundred dollars in cash. That, Miss Pierce, is a criminal offense. I now have the right to contact the police if I so desire... but because I'd prefer not to go that far, I'm going to give you a chance to let the whole issue dissolve... all I need are my things back".

His innocent attempt at threatening me was less than mediocre, but I played along anyway and nodded, pushing myself up from the couch. "Fine". As I stood, I could feel his gaze lingering on my incredibly short skirt. "My eyes are up here, Mr. Deville". I said as I swiped his credit card from a desk drawer and turned back around to face him. "I beg your pardon?" A small furrow creased between his brows, but his face had gone pink, and I knew he knew what I meant. I returned to my original spot on the couch and slid him the plastic rectangle he'd made such a fuss over, eyeing him as I did so. "Very good..." He immediately tucked the card away, as if he feared that it might disappear again, and pressed on in his thick British accent. "Now, the two hundred dollars and I'll be on my way". He'd done a fairly good job of keeping his eyes on mine when I was facing him, until now, when I reached into my shirt to pull out the stolen cash. It was warm from having been pressed against my breast for so long. I hadn't bothered to fix my shirt as I handed it to him. "Eyes up here..." He retrieved his money hastily and shook his head, looking at every possible thing in the room besides my gaze. When that failed, he did the unexpected. You see, I'd been waiting for him to shy away, to deny everything I'd subtly accused him of doing. Instead, he only chuckled. "I'm sorry Miss Pierce, but you make it extremely difficult for any man to focus solely on your face, and I think you know that". He paused to tuck the rest of his money into his suit pocket, then added, "And I think you enjoy it... yes, I'm almost sure you do... That's the entire reason you made me come all the way up here, isn't it? That's the reason you stole from me? You wanted to get me alone... to make sure I noticed you the way I am now. Returning my missing valuables to me was just an excuse to cover up what's really going to happen in this hotel room tonight..." He took a moment to examine the hands on his wristwatch, then nodded. "We better get started then. I've got to be back at my hotel by midnight".