Page 34 of Obey

“What?” I ask, peering around him to see what has him so pissed off.

Well, the woman at the desk had neglected to mention that there was only one bed. Beyond that, she hadn’t thought to tell us that it was a small bed.

“Fuck,” I say, staring at it. “We’re not both going to fit in that.”

“I’d barely fit on it on my own,” Knives complains. He goes over to the bed anyway and sits down on it. “Fuck. Is there a cot in the closet?”

I glance dubiously around the room. “Even if there were, where would we put it? There’s no space.”

The room is barely large enough for the bed, let alone an extra cot. Sleeping on the floor doesn’t look appealing either, not with how dirty the carpet is and how easy it would be to get trampled on.

I step into the room now that there’s space near the door and shake my head. “I need a shower.” I peer dubiously into the bathroom. It’s just as small as the rest of the place. I’ll barely be able to fit into the shower, let alone Knives.

“Yeah. I’ll order the questionable pizza.” Knives reaches for the stack of delivery menus near the phone. “Bet you ten bucks she’s got some deal with the pizza place to throw them some business.”

“Probably,” I agree. “I’ll get my bag out of the car and… bathe.” This is hardly going to be the most relaxing shower I’ve ever taken in my life, but my body is aching and I need to try to relax for just a few minutes.

Fuck.

I should just offer to sleep in the car, but I’m sick and tired of being in it after so many hours of driving.

Knives is on the phone when I get back, so I jump into the shower and and rinse myself off as fast as I can. The tiny bar of soap is barely enough for me to wash myself, and it’s a good thing neither Knives nor I have long hair because the mini bottle of shampoo wouldn’t last one good wash otherwise.

I discover another problem once I’m out of the shower though: the room has shit ventilation, and it’s so small that drying off and getting dressed are near impossible.

The third time I bump my shin against the toilet, I decide: fuck this. I wrap the towel around myself, pick up my clothes, and go out into the room.

Knives is on the bed, watching TV. His large body takes up most of the bed, with his feet dangling over the side.

“You’d better not have used all the hot…” Knives trails off as he sees me. His eyes rake over my body, scrutinizing me.

My heart races.

I squirm beneath his gaze, and everything inside of me just urges me to go to him, to get on top of him and push him down and make him my bitch for the evening. It’s all I can do to stay back and avoid it, and I focus on the disgusting carpet as a damn good reason not to cross over to him.

Because, of course, that’s a better reason than him being completely and utterly off limits by my own declaration.

“Drop the towel,” Knives orders as he sits up.

I do.

I don’t realize what I’ve done, not really, until the cloth hits the floor and pools around my ankles. I swallow hard, ignoring the small drops of water still coming free from my hair, and I stare at him. Watching. Waiting.

Knives sits on the edge of the bed, facing me, and with how small the hotel room is, there are only a few feet of distance between us. I watch him lick his lips. His eyes are focused on my cock.

“Did you jerk off in there?” Knives asks.

I blink at him, the question catching me off guard. “What? No. I’m too tired for that.”

Ugh. I should pick up the towel and put it back on, but that would involve touching something that had been on the floor I don’t even really want to step on.

“Turn around,” Knives says. “Bend over and show me your hole.” His hand goes down to his crotch, which is already starting to tent.

I almost obey.

It’s habit to listen to him, to do what he tells me to, but this time…

My jaw clenches, and I give a jerky shake of my head. “No. I told you, we aren’t doing this anymore. Knives.”

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