Hitched (Hitched #1)(16)

I smile. "It's okay. We're used to it. No biggie." This is a lie, but it makes him feel better.

"I'll pay for any inconvenience he posed."

"Just enjoy the rest of your night," I say.

It seems that he does. The party goes late into the early morning before the men tire and start leaving one by one.

I'm dead on my feet as the last one departs. I look around but don't see Sebastian, and I shove away the disappointment that I didn't get to talk to him when he left. Vi and Chad leave after that, and Tate packs up what he brought and gives the dancers a ride home. "I've got to stay and clean up, but I'll be home in a little bit. You don't need to come back. I've got this covered," I tell him.

"Are you sure?" He doesn't look convinced.

"Yup. Get the girls home." I hand him the tip jar. "Split this up with them and save some for Vi. This should make them happy."

He kisses my cheek. "Will do, sis. Be safe and don't stay out too late."

I give him my best wide-eyed innocence look. "Who me? Never."

I can still hear his laughter down the hall as he leaves.

Once alone, the weight of exhaustion hits me, but I still have work to do. I'm cleaning up cups and wiping up spills when the hotel door opens.

I turn, startled. Tate and I should be the only ones with the key.

But apparently not.

Sebastian has one too, it seems.





Chapter 9


The Remaking of Kacie Michaels


"What are you doing here?" I ask him, my body too still, frozen in place as I gape at him. I hate him for showing up here. I want to slap him for refusing to sign the papers. And I'm pissed off because, despite all that, I want to kiss him.

He takes long strides toward me, his body thrumming with pent-up energy, his eyes devouring me. "I came to help you clean up."

His answer disarms me. "What?"

"I came to help you clean up," he repeats. "From the party."

I must look like someone who doesn't understand words at all anymore, because he frowns and looks around at the mess, gesturing with his hands. "Clean. Up." He says slowly.

I can't help but laugh despite myself. "I get it. Sorry, that just… surprised me. It wasn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?" he asks. He grabs a trash bag and starts tossing plates and napkins in.

I shrug, not willing to turn down help when I'm dead on my feet, and start taking down the decorations. "I don't know. I guess, something more carnal."

He pauses in his cleaning and smiles in that devilish way he has. "That comes later. After your job is done and you can relax and fully enjoy those carnal delights."

I ignore the tingling sensation trailing down my spine as I continue cleaning the hotel room. "What were you doing at this party?" I ask, but I already suspect the answer.

"Who do you think referred you?" He takes the full trash bag from my hands and ties it off, then places it next to the door. "You wouldn't return my calls, so I had to find a way to see you."

I steel myself, resolve flooding me even as my passion for him simmers. "So you thought meddling with my business was the way to my heart? This isn't a hobby for me," I say too loudly. "This is my career. My livelihood. You had no right."

"I would never do anything to damage your business," he says. "It was a legitimate reference, and Dan had a great time. He and his friends will definitely be spreading the word about Hitched and you. And I kept my distance during the party so you could work."

I take a breath and realize he's right. He didn't hurt my business or damage me in any way. Was it manipulative? Yes. But not worth getting this upset about. He gave me a client. That hardly makes him a bad guy.

And now he's emptying beer bottles into the hotel sink and wiping down suspicious looking fluids from the table.

"Thank you for the referral," I say, once my temper's checked. "And thank you for your help tonight."

"You're welcome."

I keep looking for something more to clean, but the hotel room is nearly spotless by the time we're both done. There's nothing left to do but face him.

Before I can object, he pulls me into his arms and claims my mouth with his. He tastes of wine and cigars, and my body responds to him even as my mind tries to put the halt on the sexy times.

My mind finally wins, and I push him away. I'm out of breath, and my brain is cloudy with desire, but I force reason into the moment. "I can't do this again," I say.

He caresses my face with his hand, running a long finger down my cheek and jawline. "I don't think either of us has a choice."

He dips his head, his lips pressing into my neck, a flick of his tongue setting my skin aflame, and I groan even as I curse him for everything he's making me feel.

But I don't resist. Because I want him too much. These last few weeks have been miserable. I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. Maybe this will be it, one more dance before we end it for real.

And by dance, I of course mean hot, wild sex.

His hands are exploring my body, and I let go of him to pull off my blouse and unzip my skirt. They fall to the floor, and I'm standing in front of him in nothing but black lace and silk and high heels.