Anything He wants

ROOM SERVICE

The last words of our argument ring in my ears. This weekend was supposed to have been our time together …and yet it has dissolved into the usual bitter disaster. Booked into the exclusive Harringtons resort, I’d had high hopes. Then I caught you at the bar after lunch, cocktail in hand, drooling over the leggy blonde from the hotel spa. The dull predictability had not dampened my anger and I had confronted you back in our suite; my accusations leading to a huge row. Tears and insults flowed before you had finally left me to stew. Not before you’d told me how you intended to pick up with your new blonde friend in the meantime…

And so here I am. My eyes are swollen from the frustrated tears I’ve cried, I am utterly fed up with the state of our marriage. Staring at myself in the elaborate vanity mirror, I am starting to understand why you look elsewhere. Is that my reflection? How did I become this disheveled mess? My dark hair is a matted net, clinging to my hot face and I am still in my dressing robe from bathing after lunch.

The knock at the door takes me by surprise and I jump to answer it. My heart skips excitedly, hoping that you’ve come back, bouquet in hand, for ravenous make-up sex. I am half startled and half irritated, when I open the weighted door, to find one of the hotel butlers standing there.

“Mrs. Sykes?” he inquiries in a deep, husky accent from someplace I can’t quite put my finger on. His face says that he is bemused to find me in a state of undress.

Embarrassed, I move the top of my silk robe to cover my exposed breasts.

“Yes,” I mutter self-consciously, “can I help you?”

As soon as the words leave my lips I notice how strikingly attractive he is and I regret my dismissive tone. He is young, probably no older than thirty, tall and dark-haired. His face is masculine but has soft, round features and that one-day-old stubble that I love to run my fingers through.

He smiles, acknowledging my appraisal of his good looks.

“Apologies for the interruption madam,” he starts casually, “but I have a delivery for your room champagne for two with our compliments.”

He moves sideways to reveal a small trolley to his right. It is loaded with petit fours next to a huge ice bucket containing very expensive-looking champagne. My subconscious laughs at the irony. You must have pre-ordered this as a treat before the bust-up… Well, it does seem a shame to waste it now…

“Thank you,” I reply as demurely as possible. “Would you mind bringing it inside for me?”

The question sounds like a flirty proposition, which of course it is meant to be. Inwardly I chastise myself for the exposure to yet more humiliation… Look at him Sara… why on earth would he be interested in you? As though he is reading my mind, he smiles again. It is a warm, sincere smile, with just a hint of sin.

“Of course, madam. I’d be happy to do that.”

I move back inside the room, allowing him just enough space to squeeze his alluring body past me. As he passes I smell a delicious scent coming from him. It’s some sensual mix of leather and spice that makes me feel hot and heady. I close the door and take a second to collect myself. This latest row must have hit me badly if I am flirting with the first man I see…? But then, turning to look at him, it’s obvious why I’m so affected.

He is busy removing items from the silver trolley and arranging them on the glass coffee table in the lounge portion of the suite. As he works he bends salaciously over the table, exposing his gorgeous backside to me. It looks delicious in his tight, black uniform. My breath hitches and I realize suddenly just how much I want this man to take my mind off my marital issues… I have no idea who he is and yet he is so tempting…

He turns to face me, having finished the task at hand. He holds the bottle of champagne out towards me expectantly.

“Shall I pour for you madam?” he asks.

It is an appropriate question and yet he makes it sound like a scorching proposal…

“Mmmm, please,” is all I manage in reply.

I watch him filling the crystal flutes one at a time. He is meticulous and seems to deliberately take a long time to complete the job. The room is silent except, it seems, for the sounds of my excited breathing.

“Is there anything else I can do to help you enjoy your stay?” he probes, raising one dark eyebrow ever so slightly.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

His accent is gorgeous, soft, and brooding and the words seem to goad me. It seems such a deliberately loaded thing to ask… Is he flirting with me? Surely I’m just imagining it? I move fractionally forward and take a deep breath.

“I know this is an unusual request, but…” I hesitate, suddenly unsure.

He takes a step towards me and gently places one of his slender fingers under my chin, raising my face to look directly at him. I blush embarrassed by the unexpected contact but also from the electricity that shoots through me at his touch.

“Go on…” he coaxes, “ask away. I’m your butler, Mrs. Sykes; it’s my job to make sure you’re fully satisfied during your stay at Harringtons.”

Bolstered by the physical contact, I swallow the last fragments of my pride and finish my sentence.

“I was wondering if you’d share the bubbly with me. I know my husband won’t be back for a long time and I’d appreciate the company…”

My voice hangs in the air as he silently assesses my face. Then he closes the remaining distance between us and uses the same, soft finger to trace an invisible line down my jaw, to my lips. The act is so intimate that it takes my breath away and instinctively I close my eyes.

“Well, my shift ends in a few minutes,” I hear him say, “so I’d be very happy to join you. Thanks for the invitation.”

My eyes fly open and I gape at him in disbelief.

“As I am still on duty at this moment, is there anything else I can do for you?” he continues.

Images of him kissing me, disrobing me, and fondling my entire body fill my mind… I push them away, although I know my face has colored at the thought.

“I have a few suggestions…” I murmur, staring into his smoldering blue eyes. “But I am not sure they fall into a butler’s remit.”

“Perhaps you’d be surprised at the lengths I’m prepared to go to to keep you happy, madam,” he replied, winking at me.