Room Service (2 page)

I miss the fun we had writing together, Liza. I miss the nights we stayed up late plotting wild stories. I miss your wicked sense of humour and your honking laugh
.

Tears pooled in Natasha’s eyes.

I miss you, Liza. I miss you so much it hurts. And I don’t think I can do all of this without you. I don’t think I can look these people in the eye and lie. I can’t do it. I won’t to it
.

But her sister did not speak back and never would. Only the ocean spoke in its secret way, urging, tugging, pulling, and drawing Natasha in to its endless depths.

Try
, it sang, like a siren,
pick up a pen and try…

Natasha left the balcony and sat at the small desk in the corner of her room, which gave her a clear view of the ocean. She left the sliding doors open so that the salty sea air might stimulate her senses and keep her awake.

Let it be my muse
, she thought poetically, before coiling her long, partly damp hair into a knot at the nape of her neck, and picking up a sleek red hotel pen and funky notepaper in the shape of the hotel itself.

If I can just write one sexy scene for my work in progress, my first sex scene, then I will not be a fraud at tomorrow’s workshop
.

The pen tip hovered on the blank page for two minutes before she tossed it across the room. She wasn’t used to writer’s block. Most of her stories flowed from the pen to page or fingertips to keyboard without any hardship on Natasha’s part. It was only when a sex scene was required that writer’s block suddenly became very real. That was where Liza would step in, with her worldly sexual experiences.

Dashing across the room, Natasha snatched up the telephone from the bedside table and dialled ‘1’ for room service.

A drink was what she needed. A flute of bubbly never failed to loosen her writer’s tongue and tickle her muse.

Minutes later, there was a knock at her door followed by the words, ‘Room service.’

She opened the door and gazed up into the deep blue eyes of the twenty-something guy, Jace, who had taken her luggage earlier.

‘Hello, again,’ Jace said, the hint of a smile upon his lips.

Natasha was busy studying the way his trousers fit snug around his hips when Jace cleared his throat.

‘Oh… I’m sorry.’ She shook her head and stepped back. ‘Please come in.’

When Jace pushed the cart past Natasha, his firm leg brushed her thigh, sending a small jolt of excitement running up her leg. A light, breezy scent, much like the sea outside, combined with the earthy scent of a rainforest, clung to Jace. He looked like the kind of guy who took a five kilometre hike before breakfast, climbed mountains on his lunchbreak, then squeezed in a quick photo-shoot for some big-time fashion label, before having dinner in a chic, modern restaurant with his hot model girlfriend. What was he doing working in a hotel? Natasha’s curiosity, the writer inside of her, was more than a little piqued.

‘Would you like me to un-cork the bottle and pour you a glass, Miss Raven?’

‘Yes. Please. And call me Natasha.’ She slowly made her way over to the cart and raised an empty glass. The heavy door closed behind her with a loud thud, sealing them in the room together. Natasha’s hand shook while Jace poured, the sparkling wine fizzing over her fingers and running down the inside of her forearm.

‘Oops.’ Natasha put the crystal flute to her lips and sucked up as much of the escaping liquid gold as she could, stopping only when she felt Jace’s eyes watching her. Her own gaze dropped to the floor as warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

‘Here, let me get that,’ Jace said, reaching for the glass.

Warm fingers brushed against her own, sending a shiver through Natasha’s body. When she finally mustered up the courage to meet Jace’s gaze, she found a mischievous spark in his eyes and a suggestive smile curving his lips. Natasha’s insides broke out in an unsettling little dance.

Suddenly the room wasn’t king sized, but a mere closet. And Jace seemed to fill that closet with his intimidating height and his magnificent body. Natasha took a step back and caught her heel on the wheel of the cart, sending her reeling backwards.

‘Hey-’

Jace dropped the glass and swept his arms around Natasha’s waist, catching her just before she hit the desk behind her.

Time seemed to stand still as they remained frozen in a dancing couple’s pose — she leaning back and clutching at his biceps, he leaning forward and holding her tightly against him.

Both the hardness and the warmth of Jace’s body sent Natasha’s heart slamming against her ribcage in a frantic rhythm.

She inhaled a deep, steadying breath through her nose — one of the many calming techniques she’d practised in the past month — but all it did was fill her head with Jace’s intoxicating male scent, causing her heart to work even faster.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes skimmed the valley between Natasha’s breasts and the insides of her pale thighs where the satin robe had parted slightly.

Natasha cleared her throat and Jace exhaled, slowly, before setting her back onto her feet.

‘Thank you.’ Natasha murmured while she adjusted the knot around her robe and secured it tightly around her waist.

‘My pleasure,’ Jace said, rubbing the back of his neck and never once breaking his gaze. ‘I’m at your service.’

Wait a minute… did he just wink when he said that?

Natasha glanced at the floor and felt her lower stomach flip at the idea of having this beautiful, young man at her service. She could see it now on the bed behind them - he naked and hard all over, while she explored his body and put it to good use. A guy like Jace could teach her many things. If she could just spend a couple of hours in bed with him, she could learn enough to speak at the workshop with some margin of confidence at least.

‘I’m on again… tonight,’ he said in a knowing way.

Natasha shook her fantasies from her brain, dragged her eyes from the black satin sheets of the king-sized bed and found Jace’s intense blue gaze on her lips. Lazily, his eyes rose to meet hers, sending arrows of excitement shooting into her lower belly.

Say something. Invite him to your room later
.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

‘I’ve got a double shift. I finish now and return at 9pm for night-shift. So if you have any…’ Jace dipped his head and looked away, an almost shy smile gracing his lips, ‘… any needs later tonight, just call me.’

A tingling heat shuddered through Natasha’s body as Jace brushed past her and left the room.

She had travelled to many conferences but had never been so blatantly propositioned like this.

But was it really a
sexual
proposition? What if he merely loved his job and loved pleasing the customers by delivering them things and running errands?

No. His eyes hadn’t spoken of errands. His eyes had spoken the language of sex. Hot sex. Grinding, thrusting, banging sex.

Another flush of heat rushed up her neck and into her face. Natasha hurriedly poured herself a fresh flute of bubbly. With a trembling hand, she brought the glass to her lips and drained it. The cool fizz slid down her throat, sending a million shivers up and down her spine.

But could a young, hot guy like that really be interested in me?

After setting the glass down, she stood before the wall-length mirror in her room and disrobed, allowing the satin material to slip from her smooth shoulders.

She was attractive enough. Her body was firm and she was filled out in all the right places. The only thing she lacked was sexual experience. The Children of the Celestial Light — the religious sect she’d forever lost her parents to — had robbed such experience from her. When Natasha and her sister had escaped the sect at the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, Liza had managed to forget her past by diving headlong into one-night stands and even threesomes.

But for Natasha, who at the age of seventeen was forced to attend ‘Marital Obedience’ classes after being personally chosen as the future wife number six for Father Glen, the sect leader, cutting the mental and emotional shackles that bound her sexuality had been a lot harder. So difficult in fact that whenever a man asked her out on a date she broke into a sweat — no matter how attractive or witty or friendly he seemed. Marital obedience classes had taught her one important thing. That deep down all men sought control over women. And the very day she and Liza had escaped the sect, Natasha vowed she would never
ever
let a man have any form of control over her. Which meant never allowing a man close enough to know her. Instead she focused on her education, eventually completing a degree in creative writing before embarking on a successful writing career.

A career she was destined to lose in less than twenty-four hours if she chose to remain tied to her past.
Tonight. It has to be tonight. It’s the only way you can hold your head up high at this conference
.

She pictured Jace’s hands, his muscled forearms and biceps, good for lifting a woman and holding her up against a wall while…

A low moan escaped her lips, followed closely by a yawn. She needed sleep. The mirror reflected a horror show in her face — dark circles beneath her eyes and extra fine lines.

But then she remembered, with another groan, that she had promised Sheryl-Ann she would join her for sunset cocktails.

At that moment a dull thud began tapping right at the centre of her forehead. Sleep. She needed sleep more than anything.

Bugger it. Sheryl-Ann will have to sip cocktails without me. Maybe I’ll make it up by taking part in some author meet and greet sessions on Sunday afternoon. Yes. That’s it. I’ll have reception pass on a message to her
.

But before she could make the call to reception, the urge to close her eyes was so strong that she stretched out on the bed and fell asleep, naked, the warm sea air breezing through the curtains and sending feather light tickles over her body.

Natasha awoke to darkness and the heavy in-out breath of the ocean, her head thick and hazy with the remnants of an erotic dream. In the dream she’d been in the arms of Jace, and his warm, heavy breath in her ears had mimicked the sound of the ocean.

Sighing, she clutched a pillow to her chest and crossed her bare thighs while she waited for her erratic pulse to settle, and the warm tingling between her legs to subside.

The clock at her bedside read 9.30pm, and in alarm she sat up and reached for the phone. Now she had truly let poor Sheryl-Ann down. At least a message would have numbed the sting. She had to call her right now and explain. No. It was too late to disturb her. A message would have to do until morning.

‘Reception,’ a deep gravelly voice answered — the very same voice from Natasha’s dream. Liquid heat flooded her body.

While Natasha fought to remember the reason for her call, the voice on the other end laughed a throaty laugh. ‘What can I do for you this evening, Miss Raven?’

‘Jace,’ she whispered, and he laughed again.

Natasha pinched her bare thigh in a bid to clear her head.

‘Ouch. Um. I need a massage, no, I mean, a
message
passed to a Miss Sheryl-Ann Conner. Tell her that I apologise for this afternoon and hope to make it up to her tomorrow.’

The other end was silent for a while until Jace said, ‘You forgot to say please.’

‘Please.’

‘Please, Jace,’ he said, his voice a low, teasing growl.

Natasha’s heart began to race and her thoughts returned to the flashes of her dream. She pinned beneath him, then he beneath her…

‘I already said please, now goodnight!’

‘Wait!’

The warm summer breeze from the balcony drifted across her bare nipples, making them tighten.

‘Yes?’

‘Is there anything
else
I can do for you, Miss Raven?’

Natasha’s entire body flushed with heat.

‘Yes… I mean… no.’

‘You only need to say
when
and I’m at your service.’

‘When,’ slipped out of Natasha’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Natasha flung the phone against the mattress, where it bounced onto the floor with a soft thud. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, anticipating what was to come. Could she really go through with this? Sex with a stranger? When for most of her life she was taught it was wrong? That it meant she was brazen and that men would no longer see her as a lady, or one of God’s daughters, but just as a sexual plaything?

She rolled over and groaned.

Being Jace’s plaything doesn’t sound so bad…

The biggest problem was allowing a man to get
that
close to her. Allowing him to gain pleasure from
her
body. Worse still, enjoying his pleasure and losing control — control she had fought so hard to maintain.

A knock came at the door, quicker than she had expected. She leapt out of bed and seized the crumpled robe from the floor.

The door clicked and Jace entered, holding the hotel’s spare security card. Natasha only had time to press the robe against her naked body and turn on the bedside lamp, setting the room in a warm glow.

‘You came.’

He entered, smelling as though he’d just stepped out of the shower.

Colour tinted his cheeks when he saw that she was naked save for a robe. He swallowed thickly, his eyes drinking her in hungrily while he stood on the other side of the bed.

Natasha watched Jace’s chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. He appeared… as though he was… as though he was
nervous?

Is he some kind of gentlemanly sex-maniac?

Hmmm… good character for my next book – male, mid-twenties, has urges to bed strangers but suffers intense guilt afterwards…

Stop it! You’ve got a job to do…

‘Shall we begin?’ she said, hoping the dim light hid the blush on her face and neck.

She thought she saw a flash of hesitation in his eyes, but then he grinned and unbuttoned his shirt. Next, he kicked off his shoes and flung his leather belt onto the bed.