Retrace

Chapter 5

Reeves

I talk to The Russian on the phone while waiting for the cute receptionist to check me in. "Sir, I'm not sure I'll be available before the end of the week. " I'm not going on a job before I have my new apartment ready. Anyhow, the thought of the long flight and the predator wife of the man who I'm talking to is not something that I'm willing to even entertain right now. "How about I ask Jake to give you a call? "

My client, The Russian, is not someone who easily accepts no for an answer, but with my current mood, I'm not someone who'll let anyone make him do anything he is not inclined to do. I take my room key from the receptionist who smiles shyly at me. I give the card a brief look, cataloguing the number and send her a thanking nod. I drape my backpack over my shoulder and use the stairs so the call won't drop. Or maybe I should have chosen the elevator for that exact reason. I lean my back against the wall beside the door to the room, ending the call.

"Sir, thank you for the generous offer, but I'll have to pass this time. " To his less-than-pleased assent, I press end. I'm done with everyone f*****g my brains for today. I'm done with this day, period.

As soon as I enter the room, I do a quick peep, drop my bag to the floor, and kick my shoes off. I toss my wallet, keys, and phone to the small table and pull my black long sleeve shirt over my head. I throw the shirt to the bed, and start unbuckling my belt a step before the bathroom door. I send my hand to the handle, and before I know it, the door flings open.

Holy. f*****g. Sweet. Jesus.

A startled cry rips the silence in the room, but the only thing I can focus on is the impeccable naked body before me.

Those t**s.

Fuck. Me. Dead. She's completely shaven. My eyes literally fly out of their sockets.

"Turn around, turn around! "

I finally register that someone's talking to me, screaming at me, and I forcefully unglue my eyes from the masterpiece before me to meet her face.

Shit. What a beauty! Straight, silky, dark brown hair, big hazel eyes, pouty pink mouth. She flings her arms to cover herself, still urging me to turn around, completely shaken.

"Talk about room service. Best. Hotel. Ever, " I say with an amused bite, still very much facing her. Truth be told, there's nothing I can really do. That's a vision that I'm not willing nor able to stop gaping at, even if I wanted to. She huffs, and turns her back to me, only to reward me with a direct view of the greatest gift in the form of a most supreme piece of ass. My d**k twitches, highly appreciating the generosities showered at him.

The bathroom door is slammed in my face followed by, "I'm calling security. "

"Hey, it's you parading naked in my room, babe. No need to call in the Feds. " The door opens, and two livid hazel eyes, beautiful but pissed as hell, squint at me from the narrow space.

"Get out of my room now! " Her nostrils flare and I find it mighty charming.

I can't subdue the smile crawling back to my lips. "I'll do whatever you want, but the thing is that you are kind of in my room. "

Her stare narrows to thin slits. I take a step back and reach for the key I've left on the table and flash it at her. When she sees the number on the plastic evidence, confusion takes over her delicate features. Damn, she is pretty. Getting out of the bathroom, she secures a towel over her breasts. She can go ahead and cover herself with cement for all I care. What's needed is already imprinted safely in my memory.

I hold my hands up in surrender with a side curve of my lips, and say, "I guess there must be some sort of a mix-up. "

For the first time since this delightful encounter began, she really looks at me, and her guarded, panicked expression gradually fades. I barely hold in a chuckle as I notice it's her checking me out now.

"Hey, turn around, stop looking at me! " I say, making a production of covering my bare chest with my hand and snort, bringing the livid expression back to her face. Only now, an adorable flush is added to her cheeks. I could be a total d**k and ask her to come with me to sort this thing out at reception. I play with the appealing idea for a few long seconds, making myself grin.

"I'm glad you find this amusing. Can you just leave, " she says, and when my eyes fly to hers, her lips crack at the edge.

I can't overlook the fact that my mood that was about to cross Hellville's border has surprisingly turned around. "This room is equally mine. " I state the obvious, buying time. I don't give a flying f**k about this room, or any other for that matter, but if it gives me more time to drink her in, I'll be damned if I'll make any effort to move. She wrinkles her nose in what seems a pensive trait. Damn adorable.

"Give me a moment to get dressed, " she says, taking a few steps to grab a purple carry-on. I run my eyes over her long legs. The view is quite magnificent. The towel is doing a great job of barely covering more than a few inches below her ass. She has mocha, endless legs that glimmer in a velvety kind of way. My d**k assures that he got the message my mind just sent him, and I need to adjust myself. The zipper's friction is not something I need against me right now. She shuts the door behind her and I shrug on my shirt for her sake. That's definitely a case of high-class meets good girl. By no means is she my lately "easy type, " the one I'd treat like nothing but a piece of ass I'd like to tap and send on her way. I'd have this one for breakfast, snack, lunch, and dinner. Who am I kidding? I'd have her via IV.

Even though her body is now fully clothed, it does s**t to relax the situation in my pants. It just instigates it even more. She has one of those shoulder revealing kind of loose shirts on. It's obvious that she's braless. My eyes are magnetized to her teasing, pointed n*****s that peak from under the delicate fabric. Her incredible legs are stretched below low, very low, cut-offs. That's a first. . .I'm not sure which version I find more attractive, the naked one, or the hinting one. One thing I can't argue with, she is as sexy as she is exquisitely beautiful.

"I'll just call the reception, " she says as she makes her way to the phone on the round table between two embroidered wing chairs. Her back is to me and I can't break my gaze from her ass. In a matter of minutes, I've turned into a horny stalker. Stellar.

"Hi, I'm calling from room 255. Apparently, there's been some sort of confusion. It's seems you've double booked the room. There's a gentleman here who apparently was also assigned this room. " I listen to her as she speaks and detect some remnant of an accent. It's quite faint but still there. "Hold on, please, " she says and turns to look at me over her shoulder.

"They need your name. " She does that nose wrinkling thing again and the corner of my lips tugs.

"It's Mitchell, Reeves Mitchell. " Her eyebrows rise and she gives me a curious little gaze.

"Oh, I see, " she says in the phone, after giving them my name. "Ah, don't worry about it, it's fine, " she adds. "Thank you so much; he'll be there soon. " She puts the phone down. She leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms. "Apparently, we share the same last name. "

My eyes squint at her, and it's not because of the explanation she's just provided, it's because of her body language as she said it. Something that she just said makes her uncomfortable, as if she were lying. It's probably not about the mix-up as I'll be able to validate it soon. Maybe it's about her name?

Strange... And I'd know it. This is what I do. A part of my expertise is reading people's body language/behavior. One of the many perks of having your life at risk, constantly.

"I see, " I grab my backpack. "So, enjoy my room, I'm going to thank reception for this bonus. . ." I gift her with a wicked side smile. She holds her lips with her teeth, but her try is futile, as they pull up enough to reveal a smile. "So, for the sake of proper conduct, Miss Mitchell, " I send out my hand for a shake, "you know my name. . ."

She observes my offered palm for a short moment before she fills it with her soft one. Bare, groomed fingernails, just the way I like. In unison, our stares drop to where our palms link. Something's happening there, something that produces energy with unworldly speed.

"Miss Mitchell, " she says, prompting our stares to re-meet. Her expression a transparent tease. I nod, amusement playing on my face.

"Well, we've crossed nudity off the list, so I guess it's safe to say we should be okay on a first name basis. . ."

She mirrors my glee. "It's Nia. "

Nia. I repeat her name in my head. Everything about her is just what I like, neat and natural, and absolutely gorgeous. All the good reasons for me to get the hell out of here.

"It was a pleasure, " I say and send her a wicked grin.

She sighs with a smile, in a "what's done is done, I can't take it back, " kind of shy way.