Page 67 of Hotel O

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“You’re safe here,” he says, placing a hand on top of mine. “You don’t have to hide.”

I swallow and lick my lips. Confused doesn’t even begin to describe the way I’m feeling now.

I don’t remember coming here. I don’t remember any of this. The last thing I remember was … that room.

Being tied to that pole. All those men. And then … calling out for Declan.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, tilting his head as if he’s trying to gaze deeper into my eyes.

“Last night. I called out your name.”

He nods.

“So you heard?” My cheeks flush. “Sorry I—”

He places a finger on my lips. “That’s all over and done now.”

I nod softly, averting my eyes so I’m not distracted by his. I’m trying to remember what happened, but it’s hard. I’ve only got bits and pieces, and the timeline isn’t clear.

“Did I black out?” I ask, worried something might’ve happened.

“I’m not sure. But you weren’t very responsive.”

“Fuck,” I say, rubbing my face. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

He grabs my hands and lowers them. “Don’t be. It’s understandable, considering everything I did with you.”

The smile that follows is so sweet it makes my heart jump.

Jesus. When did I start to fall for him?

He grabs my hand. “I just want to apologize. If I’d known you were so tired, I wouldn’t have let you—”

“I made the choice,” I say. “It was my decision. You don’t have to apologize.”

Since when is he so caring? When did he change and why? I must’ve missed the clues.

“Right.” He smiles gently. Then he gets up from the bed. “Hungry?”

“Uhh …”

He raises a brow. “Don’t tell me you don’t like pancakes.”

So my nose was right after all. “Oh, I do,” I answer, biting my lip. “But, um …”

I stare down at the clothes I’m still wearing. Or rather, the lack thereof.

His eyes scan me from top to bottom before he breaks out in a short laugh. “I almost forgot. Hold on.” He walks out of the room and comes back in with a velvety white robe. “Sorry, I don’t have anything for girls.”

I grin as he hands it to me. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll … wait here. Feel free to take a shower. Breakfast is coming soon.” He points over his shoulder and awkwardly walks backward, closing the door too.

Only when I’m sure he’s not around anymore do I throw off the blanket and put on the robe. It’s so soft, I feel like I’m wearing an actual cloud. And it smells like him …

Why do I even recognize his smell? Damn, my easy heart.

I shake it off and put on some slippers that are underneath the bed. Then I open the curtains and let the light in. But good God, I am not prepared for the amazing view. We’re sky high above the city. And although I have no clue what building or where exactly I am, I can definitely see Hotel O from here just a few blocks away.

I stretch out again and let out another yawn before going into the bathroom adjacent to his room. It smells like lavender soap and fresh towels in here. I snoop through his things until I find a cologne, spritzing it out into the air. Yup. Definitely his.

I close my eyes and take in the smell. Goose bumps scatter across my skin.

What are you doing, Kat? Shower, remember? Jesus.

I quickly turn on the water and throw off my things, then step under the stream. I lather myself with his soap, and by the time I’m done washing and drying off, I smell just like him. Lovely.

I wrap myself in a fresh robe and open the door. “What do I do with my dirty clothes?”

“Oh, just leave them in the corner,” he yells back. “I’ll bring them to the cleaner and get them back to you.”

A blush spreads on my cheeks. That’s nice of him.

“Breakfast is ready!” he calls out.

I bite my lip and reply, “Just a second.”

Quickly checking myself in the mirror, I fidget with my hair and tuck my tits in so I look at least a little bit presentable despite still looking like a hooker that was plucked off the street after fucking twenty guys. I wish I was exaggerating. But not even a shower can erase this filth.

I don’t even know exactly what went down last night. Only that a lot of it was dirty as fuck. And that I felt like I was losing myself at the moment, which turned out to be my downfall.

I underestimated my own stamina, and for some reason, my first instinct was to call out for help. Or more specifically … Declan.

I wanted him to be there. To watch over me. With him, I felt safe.

But the moment he left, my whole sense of self seemed to vanish.

And then he came back. Was it because I needed him? Because I called out for him? Or was there another reason?


Tags: Clarissa Wild Erotic