Page 3 of Sweetie Pie
“Yeah. I need to get a room.”
She smiles and starts clickety-clacking at her little keyboard and hums to herself.
“I’ve got a lovely suite with a king-size bed on the third floor.”
I’m shaking my head before she can even finish that sentence. “I need to be in room 214. I hope that room doesn’t have a connecting door.”
She bites her lip and nods slowly. “It does. But you can lock it from your side so there’s no way for the other connecting door to be opened.” She grimaces as she reads the screen. “The only problem is that somebody’s already rented that room.”
Nodding, I pull out a wad of twenty-dollar bills. Her blue eyes bug out and she gasps for air like a fish out of water. “How much is it going to take to change their reservation? I want that room.”
“Sir,” she huffs. “We’ve got plenty of other rooms that are even nicer than that one. And with just a little bit more on your reservation you could easily afford it. Without bribing me,” she huffs.
I lean towards her and her eyes widen. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying here. I want that room and I’m willing to pay you for whatever annoyance the other party gives you.”
Her tongue darts out as I peel about six of the twenties off and she sighs. “Fine. I’ll switch the reservation.” She taps away at her keyboard and eyes me like I’m a crazy person when she hands me the room key. “I hope you aren’t planning anything weird. I’d hate to lose my job over this.”
Smiling widely, I take the key, trying to be magnanimous in my triumph. After all, I’ve got the first step taken care of in my campaign to find out what the hell Maggie is up to.
I can afford to be nice.
I wink at her. “Trust me. I just really need this room. It has special meaning to me.”
I’m especially hoping that it gives me enough access to my girl to feed the monster inside of me that’s welling up and taking over.
I knew as soon as I saw Maggie when she graduated and came home that I wanted her. What I didn’t realize then was that it was never going to change. Only grow stronger and more insane as time went on.
Until I finally claim her, the monster inside of me won’t let up. It won’t let me go.
I’m a prisoner to Maggie Wilde and the caveman that threatens to run away with her slung across my back every time I get close to her.
I’m old enough to know better but I just can’t fight the frustration and need for her.
Somehow I think I never will be able to. She’s my kryptonite. Always and forever.
So what am I gonna do about it? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I guess once the monster gets near her, he’ll let me know.
And god help all of us then.
Maggie
The bass of the club music is thumping and my heart slams into my ribs in a wild counterpoint to the craziness around me.
Couples gyrate wildly, humping each other in some kind of crazy techno-sexual act that has my cheeks flushing beet red. They don’t give a shit that people are all around them. Most of them are so intent on their partner that they’re existing in a bubble of frenetic need that’s so heavy around here you can taste it on the muggy, sweaty, stale club air.
Lights and strobes flash in and out until everywhere I look it resembles the rings of hell, lit up with human demons acting out their own dirty fantasies.
It’s too much but my pussy is throbbing in time to the music. She wants in on the action and I’m inclined to let her loose tonight. Find a willing partner and just go wild. Do what comes naturally between a man and a woman.
But my eyes skitter left and right and no matter where I look and what man catches my eye, I quickly find an issue.
He’s too tall. He’s not tall enough. He looks like a damn lecher, biting his lip and eyeing me like he eyes a steak. He doesn’t meet my eyes at all. He’s shifty as hell.
Sighing, I pace over to the bar and hold my hand up to get the bartender’s attention. He pops up in front of me, smiling that million-watt smile that people who work on tips have.
“What can I get you, honey?”
Cringing, I fight the urge to tell him that I’d appreciate it if he didn’t call me honey.
