PANTY RAID

81| Two souls alike

Abbey got out of his car and pressed the remote key button to lock the doors. He pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a text to the person he'd come to see. Give them your name at the lobby they're expecting you, came the almost immediate response.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and strolled into the imposing structure of Somerset hotels and suites. The lobby opened onto marble gray floors and eclectic artwork adorning the alpine green paneled walls.

The beautiful receptionists greeted him warmly as he approached. He placed his arm on the marble-top desk. "Hi, I'm here to see Miss Omar."

"Your name, please?" the one in the middle asked politely.

"Abbey."

"Jessie, please escort him to Miss Omar's suite," she said to her colleague.

"Right this way, please," she smiled. Jessie led the way to the elevator and they both got in.

Abbey retreated to the back of the elevator and he couldn't help but check her out. Her skin was brown, a smooth, rich color of roasted coffee beans.

He gazed at her, admiring the way her body filled out the hotel's plain uniform. White shirt tucked into a knee-length maroon skirt and black flat shoes.

Her hair was weaved into an all-back cornrow, the tip skimming her waist. She looked too pure for someone like him to sully — hook-up girls and strippers were what suited him.

His phone beeped. It was a text from Jemima. Another bout of cursing at him and wishing him the worst thing imaginable. She was getting creative with these things.

Now she's wishing he gets chlamydia from in her words 'one of those dirty ass hoes you're fucking'.

He scoffed. Jemima knew damn well that he was very selective with his women and he only rolled with premium babes. Bitch is just salty.

The elevator stopped and they got out. She walked down the plush carpeted hallway and he followed behind her. "Here," she said, stopping in front of the last room in the hall.

"Thanks, Jessie," he said, giving her his rare, slow smile.

"You're welcome," she smiled, blushing slightly. Damn, she had a really pretty smile.

He almost melted inside at how brightly her eyes twinkled when she smiled. He was tempted to ask for her number and though he did not doubt that she'd give him, he took a step back and watched her leave.

He gathered his wits and knocked on the door. It took a minute before he heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the door.

Novah opened the door clad in a tiny silk robe with a sash tied to the waist. "Hey, come on in."

Everything about this screamed that she was up to something but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "Hi, Novah."

He followed her inside the suite and through the sitting room that led to the bedroom. He stared at the queen-sized bed dominating the room and his lips curled in amusement.

He knew her intentions but knowing a girl like Novah, she must want something from him. "Have a seat. Umm, I have whiskey, cognac, and Ciroc. Which one do you care for?"

"None," he said tersely. "Cut to the chase, Novah. Why am I here?"

"I would have offered you some tea and biscuits as we do in England," she said, trying to make a joke.

"But I figured whiskey would be more of your vibe," she said while pouring him a glass of Jameson Irish whiskey.

He grudgingly accepted the glass and took a tentative sip. "Now tell me why I'm here. I have a lot of shit to do."