Celeste
Bone tired,utterly exhausted, dead on my feet. All of those feelings and more is how I’m feeling after the first successful night. When the crowds finally started dying down, I released everyone, including Tyra so she could actually get a full night of sleep before heading to her parents’ house to pick up Von at a decent hour in the morning. I stayed back, restocking everything that was cleared out from tonight, knowing very well I could have redone it in the morning. That’s not how my brain works, though. I’m a night owl, a gift probably from living in the city through my college and most of my adult life. I’d much rather sleep in an extra hour in the morning than have to get here earlier.
I’m picking up from bringing the boxes that are stored in the storage room out to the front, having kicked off my high heels when I started picking up around the place, trading them for my tried-and-true Birkenstocks, not that they match my dress. That’s okay, though, because I’m not out here trying to win the best dressed award or anything. The older I get, the more I realize being comfortable outweighs being fashionable. I finish tearing down the boxes and set them to the side by the front door, out of view so no passersby will see. Keeping that pristine look is of the utmost importance in owning a spa, along with always staying fresh and relevant.
My eyes zero in on the yelling that’s going on just outside the doors. This is not what I need, not at all. Instead of leaving like I planned, I return to the storeroom, clean things up a little bit more, throw my heels in my bag. Thankfully, I was smart enough to use a bigger bag than the usual small bum bag I store my keys, wallet, and phone in. I’m done doing everything that is needed to have the store ready, and as much as I hate the thought of stepping outside and dealing with a confrontation even though it’s not mine to deal with, there’s no telling what could or couldn’t happen. In a perfect world, the people carrying on a ruckus will calm down and I’ll slide out unnoticed; that’s never my luck, though.
“Alright, Celeste, stop pussy-footing around. Get your tail home, shower, and sleep.” I turn off the light in the back room, leaving the fluorescent sign on the wall above the receptionist area lit, one of the things that is listed as a must-do in the never-ending contract and employee handbook I had to sign. So, with my bag on my shoulder, gripping it tightly in my hand, along with my phone case that has a loop to hold it with your fingers, which makes it easier in case it’s needed—not going to lie I’m hopeful that I won’t—I head to the door. My keys are in my other hand. Maybe I can talk Monica and Pierre into changing the locks to a code. I could walk away and lock it with a few strokes on an app on my phone.
“Celeste.” I just walked through the door, my back to the crowd, inserting the key and sliding the deadbolt to the right, locking it, when a deep voice with a light rasp to the tone calls my name. Wylde’s voice causes a shiver to slide down my spine. Not a touch, not even a whisper of a stroke, just my name rolling off his lips.
“Hey, uh... Mr. Hayes.” I spin around. He’s closer, closer than earlier when we first met and shook hands. Wylde looks, well, wild. His hair is messier than earlier, there are dark circles under his eyes, lines in the corner of his eyes, and his mouth tight, like he is upset to be standing here in front of me.
“Wylde. Call me Wylde, Celeste,” he responds, tilting his head to the side before talking to someone else. “You got this? I’m going to walk Celeste to her car.” My eyes move to the dark recesses of where someone else is standing, the burnt ember at the end of a cigarette lighting up the mysterious man.
“Yeah, I’ll meet up with you later,” the unknown man replies, leaving just as quickly as he appeared, a trail of smoke following in his wake.
“You don’t have to do that.” I look over his shoulder, trying to figure out what happened to the noise that was there earlier. There’s a crowd now, people blocking the view, along with men wearing black shirts,Wylde’s Hotel and Casino Securityemblazoned on the back.
“Yeah, I do. Didn’t realize you were still here. Security is light tonight, a mistake on my part, one that will be remedied as soon as the next crew gets here. If you’ve got everything locked up and are ready to go, I’ll escort you out.” I’m not sure if he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart or out of feeling obligated. Either way, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not walking through the hotel alone; it’s the parking garage. And yes, it’s lit the entire way; until you make it closer to the wall, which just so happens to be near your driver’s side door that you need to get in.
“I’m ready. I am going to ask Monica or Pierre if I can change the type of lock to a keypad. That way, there’s not fifteen other people who have a master key and I can change the code for certain people and be alerted when they lock and unlock the door,” I rattle on as if Wylde doesn’t know how it works.
“I’ll have maintenance on it tomorrow, Monday at the latest. Do you make it a habit of working this late every night?” I’d like to throw my snarky attitude at him, saying ‘well, duh, of course not; it’s not like we do massages and facials well past the witching hour.’
“No, but I didn’t think it would be smart to tell potential clients it was past closing time when while I do love what I do, I also like making money.” I refrain from saying what I want, figuring that wouldn’t be a spectacular idea to do to your boss, especially on the first day of opening and meeting him. There’s something that’s glaring in the forefront of my mind not to make an ass out of myself.
“Touché,” Wylde agrees. We’re walking side by side, our arms grazing one another’s every now and then, not on purpose, not on my part; that would be bad, so bad. That all changes when we make it inside the hotel, having walked around the pool in a Wylde-induced fog, especially when his hand touches my lower back, causing me to almost trip over my own feet. He must not feel the stutter in my step as we keep walking as if this is the most natural thing in the world thattheWylder Hayes is walking his employee through the hotel lobby when everyone knows it’s not.
“You really don’t have to walk me to my car.” I attempt to let him off the hook. Really, it’s for my own sake. The things Wylde makes me feel are not normal, and it’s not something I’d have thought would happen in my wildest imagination.
“It’s not up for discussion. While you’re at work, you’re my responsibility. I saw the crowd getting rowdy on the security feed and noticed you were still inside the spa. Any given thing could have happened, and it would be on me. I’d rather there not be another incident where you’re potentially in harm’s way.” Wylde’s hand is still on my lower back. I shouldn’t feel the heat searing me through the fabric, yet that’s what happens, and he doesn’t move it either. Not when he waves his card over the access panel to retrieve the elevator and it opens almost instantly. That’s probably because we aren’t using the main or employee elevator; we’re using Wylde’s private access.
“Okay.” I’m at a loss for words on how else to respond. I’ve given him an out, tried to shake this feeling that is overwhelming all my senses. And once we step inside, Wylde is surrounding me, backing me up until I’m pressed against the wall. The hand that was on my lower back slides up my spine, tangling at the base of my wavy locks. His other goes to the base of my throat, holding me there, and that’s when Wylde dips his head.
FIVE
Wylde
Celeste is sin and temptation,all wrapped up in one delicious fucking package. It’s the only explanation for why my body is molded to hers, lips pressed against hers, nipping at her lower lip until she finally allows me to gain entrance. Hands that were once hanging loosely beside her are now working their way up my body until she’s digging her nails into my chest, matching the stroke of my tongue, giving me as much as I’m taking. I feel the pulse rapidly beating the same time she arches closer to my body, allowing me to feel her hardened nipples, and I’m thankful I never had the forethought to button my suit jacket.
A small sigh leaves her. My hand drifts down lower, cupping the underside of her breast, thumb gliding along what I imagine them to look like, mouth salivating as I wonder if they match her lips that are light pink in color and sweet in flavor.
“Wylde.” Celeste’s chest is heaving. My own lungs are burning with the need to take a deep breath. That’s not what I do, though. I leave her lips for just a moment before I return to them, harder, with more determination than before. Until the dinging of the elevator forces us to separate. A shame, too, because my next move was pulling her leg up until it was curled around my thigh, my hand pressing around, holding Celeste open as I worked my way closer, letting her feel just how hard she made my cock. That thought alone has me weeping in my boxer briefs like I haven’t been laid in years.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she says, an echo to my own thoughts. Here in the moment, though, I’m not going to regret, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop my body from igniting when Celeste is nearby.
“Maybe not, but some rules are meant to be broken.” I peck her lips one last time. She doesn’t push me away, and with the elevator being my private one, the doors don’t slide open until I press a button. That added security feature that I was reluctant to pay for is more than worth it right at this moment.
“That’s easy for you to say. This is your business. You own the hotel and casino. You own where I work. My life investment is in the spa. One wrong move, and I’m screwed.” I step away, reluctantly giving her room to breathe when all I want to do is capture her lips once again, feel those small hands of hers dig into my chest, pulling me closer like she was moments ago.
“There is that. We’ll continue this conversation when it’s not nearing one o’clock in the morning and we’re both not dead on our feet.” Placating is not what I’d really like to do when it comes to Celeste, but since she nods in understanding, I take it as a win. Still, my eyes don’t leave hers until she moves away from the wall, my hand going back to her lower back, a need to feel Celeste in some manner.
“Fine, you’re right. It’s late, and there’s no use in arguing when all I want to do is get home, hop in the shower, then climb into bed.” Yeah, the words she just said didn’t do anything to make my hard cock go down. If anything, it only ignited a flame of dirty thoughts, things I’ll be dreaming of doing to her.
“You’re not helping matters,” I mumble under my breath. I button my suit jacket, not wanting anyone in the employee parking lot to see the bulge I’m now sporting as I walk Celeste to her car.
“What did you say?” I press the button, opening the doors to the employee parking garage. Monday, this place will be full of cars. Tonight, it’s more of a skeleton crew working, which means less everything. That thought still makes me realize I’ll be sleeping in my room off the office, once again not leaving. It makes me doubt that owning the penthouse condo ten minutes away is even worth it. Not that I’m willing to sell. If anything, I’d make it an investment property, a short-term rental with a long-term revenue. Though if things go where I want them to with Celeste, that won’t be happening either. I’m pretty sure the only way I’ll get her to agree to anything resembling a relationship is going to be by keeping things quiet. Even then, that might be stretching it.