Page 3 of Wild Weekend
I snap back to reality, and I tear my eyes away from the goddess in the shower.
“Get out!” she screams.
I raise a hand to my eyes, shielding them from the glorious sight of her nakedness as I back out of the room.
“Sorry…”
I try to close the door, but she lunges out of the shower wielding a shampoo bottle. Her breasts sway as she goes for me.
Before I can retreat, she attacks. A knee jerks upward, and I move just in time for it to get me in the guts rather than the balls.
I double over at the pain, because she’s got a hell of a kick on her. She’s a big strong woman, tall and curvy, and there’s power behind her swing.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
I’m doubled over from the kick as she bears down on me with the shampoo bottle.
It strikes me in the temple, and my head swings to the side and hits the side of the door.
The last thing I see is two beautiful breasts swinging in my vision and milky thighs.
Then I hit the floor and everything goes dark.
2
STELLA
The pervert hits the floor with one hand clasping his nuts. I give him another bash to the head just to make sure.
I was aware I’d have to keep alert at an event with hundreds of bikers, but I never dreamed one would attack me in my hotel room.
I mustn’t have locked the door properly.
My heart’s hammering in my chest, and I’m dripping water on the floor. But I need to make sure I’ve eliminated the threat, then get the hell out of here.
I turn the shower off and grab a towel.
The man groans, and I jump backwards in case he tries to grab me. I’ve learned out of necessity how to defend myself, and I’m grateful I was able to negate the threat before he tried to do whatever he came in here to do.
But he stays prostrate on the floor. I cautiously shuffle forward to get a better look at him.
The man’s got short dark hair and is clean shaven. Not the type of guy you’d pick for a pervert, but then who can tell these days?
There’s a trickle of blood on the side of his head where he hit the door. Unease creeps into my stomach. What if I’ve killed him?
I fight down the panic that threatens.
It was self-defense. He attacked me in the shower. But there were no witnesses, and the last thing I need is to go through the courts again.
I give him a nudge with my foot to check that he’s alive. The man groans, and relief floods me.
But if he’s alive, I need to get out of here and get some help.
His body is sprawled on the bathroom floor, and I wrap the towel tightly around me and step over him.
In his outstretched hand, he’s clasping something that looks like a card of some sort. I crouch down to take a look.
It’s a keycard. He’s holding a keycard to a motel room, and written on it in black marker is ‘102’
