How it all began...
She was his from the moment she laid eyes on him...
At 10:45pm, he was summoning her to his VIP room. At midnight, he was bringing her to orgasm with his hands on her breasts. By 1:30am, she was lying on her back in his hotel roo...
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Tristan decided he didn't care. He needed to talk to her. Needed to see her. He needed to try. Bounding out of his chair, he walked over to where his cell phone sat on top of his laptop and yanked it up. Going off memory, he dialed the number to the downtown Hilton in Charlotte and impatiently paced the floor as he waited on someone to answer.
"Thank you for calling the Hilton, downtown Charlotte."
"I need room 1118," he all but barked at the feminine voice on the other end, forgetting his manners.
"One moment please."
Tristan bit his nails and anxiously tapped his foot on the floor. What if she didn't answer? What if she wasn't there? What if he'd wasted too much time? What if she didn't want to talk to him? What if she had a boyfriend now?
Just the thought of that made Tristan's fist curl with brutal anger. He punched the wall as the phone rang and rang in his ear.
Please be there. Please be there.
Tristan's heart hammered in his chest and his stomach bubbled with anxiety as he closed his eyes and walked in circles. What the fuck was wrong with him? This woman literally had his stomach in knots and the thought that he may never see or speak to her again literally made him want to vomit. This shit was not cool. Not cool at all. This was not how he rolled.
Tristan roughly rubbed his head and hissed through his teeth. Just as he was getting ready to hang up...
"Hello?"
Tristan's eyes flew open.
She answered the phone sounding sweet, beautiful, and anxious. Had she been waiting on him? Eagerly hoping for his call?
"Hello?" she called again, sounding more anxious.
He swallowed hard and slowly inhaled and exhaled. He reminded himself who the fuck he was and forced himself to play it cool. "Hi baby," he huskily breathed.
There was a brief pause. "Tristan?"
Tristan frowned and looked at the phone. She sounded like she was crying. He put the phone back to his ear. "Yeah," he quietly said.
"Tristan," she said with a lingering sigh. She openly began sobbing and he felt a knot forming in his throat.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She didn't answer him; just hysterically continued sobbing. "Serenity? What's wrong?"
"I," she struggled to get out. "I... I..."
Tristan subconsciously tapped his knuckles against his leg and swore under his breath. Whomever the fuck had her crying like that was going to pay.
"Give me twenty-four hours baby," he earnestly said. "Twenty-four hours. I'll renew the room for you again. You can get whatever you want; order whatever you want, just charge it to the room. I'll be there. I promise. Don't leave." He closed his eyes and put his other hand to the phone, imagining himself touching her and getting hard as he did. He needed his hands on her again like he needed his next breath. "Please don't leave."
