[ COMPLETED ]
[ 2021 WATTY'S SHORTLIST ]
❝ You've never been loved like this? ❞
Twenty-nine year old Monique Harper is a senior VP travel advisor. Great at her job, she is sent to Valencia, Spain to vet a chain of hotels owned by billionaire Matteo...
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Suprisingly, I woke up in a good mood considering I made my quick escape from Matteo's room just six hours ago. After a long, pleasurable night, I was left to limp back to my suite.
God forbid he calls and I don't show up.
Well, he sure does deliver the best service.
He reminded me before I left that we have a meeting with his contractors and interior designer at midday - it's currently nine o'clock and I've decided to set myself a bath.
My legs are sorer than a motherfucker. That's all I can think about as I lower myself into the bubbles.
I spend around thirty minutes in the tub, just vibing with myself and trying to rub out the cramps growing in my thighs.
Curse that fine ass, talented Spaniard.
My eyes are closed and I'm just starting to feel relaxed when there's a knock at the door around the corner. Part of me just wants to ignore it and continue this unnecessarily long bath, and the other part wants to not be rude and answer it.
Before I can even decide, the door decides for me. There's another knock - louder this time but the same tempo.
I throw my head back with an annoyed groan before finally rising from my comfortable spot. It feels like half of me has fallen asleep as I reach for my towel.
I really need to start working out.
I wrap the large, warm towel around my chest and tuck it in, my hand resting on top of it just in case it decides to go crazy and loosen itself. Making my way around the corner, I arrive at the door and open it.
Immediately, I'm met with the face I left behind early this morning.
"Buenos dias, hermosa." He greets, his voice deep and dripping in sex appeal. He looks way more put together than I am in his black dress shirt rolled up to his elbow and matching black trousers.
Oh - let's not forget the Louboutin's.
I try not to freak out at the fact that he's standing here, staring me down with his bottom lip in his mouth and his sexy ass scent floating its way over to me. I tighten my grip on the tucked in towel.
"What are you, uh, doing here?" I questions, warily. We parted ways hours ago so why is he at my door, looking so scrump-dilly-icious?
