Don't hurt me, I'm a virgin.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I can hear the shower running as soon as I reach the bedroom. Good.

I place the plastic bag containing the clothes he bought on top of the bed. I grab my jacket along with the corset and stiletto boots from the chair. I wear my jacket, hastily. I slip my feet into the stiletto boots and then cover them with Jeremy's long sweatpants.

My heart and mind are in a dilemma; each screaming something different. I ignore my ever pounding heart which is demanding me, asking me what I am doing, whilst my head is encouraging me to keep going.

I get up from the bed and still thankful that the shower is still running. I run to the living area, heading straight to the coffee table containing his laptop and briefcase. I grab a pen and a blank paper and quickly I write my message;

I borrowed your t-shirt and sweatpants, hope you don't mind.

After writing this, I run again back to his bedroom and place the paper on top of the plastic bag which contains the clothes he supposedly purchased for me.

I don't allow myself to feel but just to think.

I quickly grab my corset and leave his bedroom, whilst he is still in the running shower. The only thought that is forming in my head as I exit the door is: thank you for the experience Jeremy.

I breathe in the luxury of his hotel for the last time, knowing that this will be the first and last I will ever see, feel and smell such luxury. And then swiftly--so that he won't hear-- I close the door only to face the corridor of the penthouse suite floor hotel.

Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't feel. I repeat this in my mind as I command my feet to keep going.

Once again, I find myself standing before the elevator and I quickly press the button and it immediately pings open. I can't help but feel disappointment tugging in my chest.

Don't think about it. Don't feel. Just go. My inner voice encourages me and so I submit.

There's no one but myself in the elevator and I concentrate fully on the music to distract me from my thoughts and the emotion tugging in my chest. I know if let myself succumb to my feelings, I will find myself returning to him. The music is peaceful, an orchestra I think. I let my mind bliss on the instruments, refusing sorely to think over him.

Minutes later, the elevator pings to a stop and I'm staring at the open luxury of the reception room. The crystal chandeliers are almost the same as in Jerem--I shake my head--his room, but they're bigger. I don't have time to assess all the expensive equipment that's in there because I have to move quicker.

I ignore the frown and questioning look of the receptionist woman from last night. I'm one hundred per cent sure she's wondering why a girl like me is here. Maybe she doesn't resemble me from the same trashy looking girl who was accompanying Jerem--ugh I should stop this; thinking about him at every moment.

Quit it now and move it! My inner voice shouts at me. I exit the hotel quickly and immediately take in the fresh promising air outside. But still I can smell him, I can smell his vanilla body wash, mixed with some cologne and some detergent.

It his smell and it's suffocating. I realize the smell is emanating from the clothes I'm wearing.

Oh dear God, help me.

I can't do this. I want him already, I have to go back. I tell myself but my shaky legs head straight away from the hotel. I take in a few deep breaths to clear my thoughts.