Chapter 2: The Stranger's Room

Mia's POV

I turned around slowly, and my stomach dropped.

"Jade?" I said, my voice coming out lower than I intended because I could not believe what I was seeing. 

She is Jade Miller, from my Literature class, and she was standing right there in the middle of this place, dressed in something that left very little to the imagination, staring back at me with the same exact look of horror that I knew was on my face.

"Mia," she breathed, her eyes going wide, and for a second neither of us said anything, we just stood there.

"What are you..." I started.

"Don't," she cut me off, shaking her head quickly and glancing around like she was checking if anyone was listening. 

"Don't ask me that because I am not going to explain myself and honestly, you should not have to either." She stepped closer and lowered her voice.

 "Everybody here has a reason. Nobody asks questions. That is the first rule." She addsed

I swallowed. "You come here often?"

"Often enough," she said simply, and something in her eyes told me not to push it. 

"Look, what happens in here stays in here. You keep my secret and I keep yours. Deal?"

I nodded because what else was I going to do, and she gave me one last look before disappearing into the crowd like she had never been there at all.

I stood still for a moment, trying to pull myself together, and that was when a woman in all black appeared at my side like she had been waiting for me. She was tall, polished, with a tablet in her hand and an expression that gave nothing away.

"Mia Calloway?" she said, and I blinked because I had not given my full name at the door.

"Yes?"

She handed me a small folded paper without another word. I opened it and looked down at what was written inside,it was a room number and a time, and at the bottom, in neat print, the words: "Already reserved."

"Someone booked me?" I looked up at her, confused.

 "I just got here. How is that possible?"

"It happens," she said, already turning away. "Room is down the hall, third on the left. He is waiting." 

She walked off before I could ask anything else and I stood there holding the paper, my heart doing something strange in my chest. Someone had already asked for me specifically and I did not even know how that was possible since I had never been here before and nobody here knew my name.

At least, nobody should have.

I told myself not to think too hard about it and started walking.

The hallway was quieter than the main floor, it dimly lit with dark walls and thick carpet that didn't make the sound of my heels that loud. I stopped in front of the third door on the left and stared at it for long with the paper still folded in my hand.

I knocked but there was nothing.

I knocked again, a little harder this time, and still no answer came from inside so I pressed my hand flat against the door, pushed it open, and stepped in.

The room was dim, else a small scenting candle that was lighted beside the bed. It was nicer than I expected with a large bed, dark sheets, a chair near the window. And sitting on the edge of the bed was a man.

He was leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and he was shirtless, wearing only dark boxers, with his clothes folded on the chair beside him. I could not make out his face clearly from where I stood so I took one step closer, then another.

And then the light caught his face and I saw him properly.

My mind went completely blank.

He was striking in a way that did not feel fair, he has sharp jaw, dark hair slightly disheveled, and eyes that were watching me with the kind of calm that made me feel like I was the one who had walked in underprepared, which I had. He was built in a way that was obvious even sitting down, broad shoulders, the kind of chest that made it hard to look somewhere else, and he was just watching me, unbothered, and those eyes, God. I could drown in them.

I turned around immediately.

I do not know what came over me but my body just moved on its own and my hand was already reaching for the door handle when his voice cut through the room.

"Wait."

It was one word and it was quiet but something about the way he said it made my hand stop.

"You know why you are here," he said, and I heard him stand,

"so why run now and pretend you are actually a good girl?"

I did not move.

"Turn around," he said, closer now, and my pulse jumped, "and be a bad girl for daddy."

The words hit me and I stood there for another second, my hand still near the door, telling myself to leave, telling myself this was a mistake, but then I thought about the hospital bill sitting on my mother's file and I turned around.

He was standing a few feet away, looking at me without blinking, and up close he was even more unsettling than he had been across the room.

"You are not relaxed," he said, his voice low and even.

"I am fine," I said, even though nothing about me was fine.

"You are not," he repeated, and he did not move toward me, just stood there. 

"I am not going to touch you until you are. So relax."

I let out a slow breath and took a step forward, then another, closing the space between us until I was close enough to feel the warmth coming off his skin.

He reached up and touched my jaw, just barely, tilting my face up, and then he kissed me.

It started slow, softer than I expected from someone who looked like him, and I felt my whole body respond before my brain could catch up, my hands finding his chest, his arms coming around me, pulling me in closer until there was no space left between us and the kiss deepened.

His hands moved to my waist, then up my back, and I was melting into him in a way that scared me a little because I had not expected to feel anything and I was feeling everything.

He walked me back toward the bed and I went, and when the backs of my knees hit the edge I sat down and he leaned over me, his eyes finding mine, and something about the way he looked at me made my chest tighten.

His hand slid up my thigh, slowlu and I felt my breath catch and my whole body lean into it and then, all at once, something inside me just stopped.

"Wait," I said, my voice coming out small, and he stilled immediately.

He looked at me, not annoyed, just waiting.

"I am not sure about this," I whispered and the room went completely quiet.