"why aren't you here Andrew?"

Elena's POV

When the plane landed in San Francisco, night had already shrouded the city in darkness.

A sleek black car was already waiting for us at the curb, so we slipped in without a word and the driver pulled away, weaving through the bright streets until we stopped in front of a towering glass hotel that looked out over the skyline.

Inside, the lobby shimmered with marble floors and gold accents. A chandelier burst above us like a frozen firework, scattering light everywhere. The receptionist's smile was polite as she slid two key cards across the counter.

“Your rooms are on the twentieth floor, Mr. Blake. Suite 2001 and 2002.

Andrew took his card without a word and walked to the elevator.

“Thank you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure she even heard me. Her gaze was glued to Andrew, and I couldn’t blame her. He was far too hard to ignore. Shaking my head, I grabbed my key card and hurried after him, quickening my steps to catch up.

On the twentieth floor, he paused between our doors and looked at me briefly. Then, he said “Rest well and be prepared for tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I replied and watched as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind.

I stood in the empty hallway for a few seconds, staring at his door. A quiet ache rose in my chest, that stupid wish we could share the same room. But that wasn't going to happen.

With a soft sigh, I pulled my suitcase along and slipped into my suite.

The room glowed in soft whites and gold, my favorite color combination. A small smile tugged at my lips. I’d made the right choice when I booked the reservation.

I kicked off my heels, dropped my suitcase to the side and sank into the bed. The sheets were cool and cozy and they welcomed me. My body, which was heavy with exhaustion, sank deeper as I spread my arms and legs. Finally, I was going to get some rest.

After resting a little, I dragged myself to the shower. Steam clung to my skin when I came out and I slipped into one of the silk robes I'd packed.

The robe clung short against my thighs, sleeveless and nearly transparent—a daring gift from Hannah. I considered changing out of it, but with no one expected at my door tonight, I let the thought slip away.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and dialled Hannah's number just to know how she was doing. But her number wasn't connecting. I tried again. Still the same result. So, I gave up.

I smoothed lotion over my skin before finally collapsing onto the bed, hoping Hannah was okay.

Sleep didn’t come. My eyes stayed wide open, fixed on the ceiling, while my thoughts kept drifting back to Andrew. I kept picturing him—his shirt gone, the sharp cut of his abs, the strength in his chest.

A slow heat unfurled inside me, curling low in my stomach until my heartbeat quickened.

Restless, I reached for my phone and, almost without thinking, opened the site Hannah had once teased me about. It was a p**n site.

I slipped the pillow over the screen, creating a private little shield, and pressed play. The lady in the video spread her legs and began to rub her clit after lubricating her finger with saliva.

I was so horny, my own hand slipped beneath my robe until my fingers found my already wet clit and I began to rub it.

Oh. Yes. It felt really good but not enough. I slid two fingers in and began to fuck myself until my hips lifted. All I could think about was Andrew and wishing he was the one fingering me.

“And-rew…” I sighed, his name trembling on my lips like he was the one finger fucking me.

“Fuck “ I moaned louder, closing my eyes and increasing my pace as the slurpy sound filled the room and my wetness covered my fingers.

I wanted more. I wanted him to be the one doing this.

“Why aren't you here, Andrew?” I whimpered, spreading my legs even wider. I wanted to come but I wasn't there yet.

“Need help?” A male husky voice, so much like Andrew's said.