WICKED GAMES | COMPLETE

TWENTY TWO

Miles

Miles wished he could say he was drained from last night's rendezvous, but the truth was it only made him more restless. He had finally tasted the honey that he'd been craving for so long, but his own pent-up urges were begging for release.

The temptation creeped over him in the shower this morning, but he resisted, afraid of the distracted state it might plunge him into for the rest of the day.

Instead, he set off to the hall with an energetic Liam, ready to tackle the penultimate day of the event.

"Mr Mason, please sign my list!"

"Mr Mason! I only need three more signatures!"

The fans were especially rabid today. Desperation was mounting in their race to collect all 300 autographs, and Miles had been signing them non-stop all morning.

As he smiled at the mob surrounding him, he spotted a girl in a black leather jumpsuit.

Fuck.

His mind reeled towards the image of Andie, her head thrown back and lips wide open in ecstasy, her freckled breasts heaving beneath the thin leather.

Today was the last day Andie would be in that costume.

He fiddled with his pen, struggling to recall what he was supposed to do.

"Um, Mr Mason? Are you signing it?"

He snapped back to reality and hastily scribbled on the list in his hand. Glancing at his leather watch, he realised it was lunch time, and he apologised to the protesting fans as he peeled away from the swarm.

Fuck, I need a cold bath.

He briskly strode towards his hotel beside the convention hall, texting Liam a quick note.

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗

The warmth of the lobby greeted him as he marched in from the cool December air. The rock in his pants was stiff with anticipation, aroused by the memory of Andie's taste, and Miles inhaled to calm his eager heart.

"Miles?"

He spun around to the familiar voice. She stood by the check-in counter, the black leather gleaming under the light.

Oh god, it's her.

He hastened his steps towards Andie, realising she was standing at the back of a long queue.

"Shouldn't you be working?" He asked as he approached.

"Thanks, dad. I need to get back in my room, but... I left my key in there." She gestured to her top, where a white liquid was starting to stain in a rather suggestive pattern. "Some guy hugged me and his face paint wasn't dry."

Miles pursed his lips, trying in vain to ignore the image of the liquid running down her inviting cleavage.

He pulled her to the front of the counter, where an older male concierge was standing.

"Hey man, can you get her another key?" He asked the staff, who glanced at Andie and gave a small scoff.

"We can't just give out room keys to any person that demands it," he stated, scanning Andie's outfit with scorn.

Miles raised his badge, and the staff's eyes widened, recognising his studio as a sponsor for the event. He bowed.

"My sincerest apologies, Mr Mason. We will expedite a new card for the madam - however, I'm afraid it will take some time, as our system is currently experiencing an overload." He gestured towards the growing queue.

"I don't have a lot of time," Andie exclaimed. "I have to change and meet the game devs. They're leaving in forty minutes and I have to sign the release form so they can pay me."

Miles' brain raced and landed on a solution so sweet he couldn't stand another moment of waiting.

"Come with me," he urged and pulled her into a lift. He barely pressed for his floor when a mass of people filtered in, pushing them to the back of the car. The lift was now suddenly filled with the chatter of fans as the doors dinged shut.

"You can shower in my room," Miles offered, his eyes trailing down to the white stain on the left of her top.

He pulled his gaze back to the front.

"I need a change of clothes."

"I have them."

"You have women's clothes in your room?"

He ran his hand over her waist and felt her tense up. Staring dead ahead, he slid his palm down and pinched her left buttcheek. He waited for her gasp, but it was drowned out by the sudden announcement.

"STOREY TWELVE. PRESIDENTIAL SUITE."

He released her cheek and gripped her wrist, pulling her past the crowd of curious eyes wondering who could be getting off at this prestigious level. He heard the faint gasps of recognition as the lift doors slid shut.

"Presidential Suite?" Andie repeated snarkily. "Who did you have to sleep with to get this level of luxury?"

"No one," Miles blinked innocently as he unlocked the door to the suite. "Why, who's offering?"

Andie probably had a smartass retort ready, but he never heard it because her mouth fell open at the sight of the room sprawled before her.

"This is insane," she whispered airily, her eyes soaking in the view from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

"It's decent," he remarked in a low voice as he paced towards her. "I like this view better."

He spun her around, tugging violently at her top, watching her supple breasts bounce. She gasped in surprise, glancing back at the tall, see-through windows.

"The curtains... Miles, I don't have much time..."

"Then let's stop wasting it." He yanked the leather top down and her breasts sprung out, finally open for Miles to see.

"Fuck, Pepper. You're so fucking hot," he breathed, taking in the luscious curve of her breasts and the pink pucker of her nipples.

He pulled her towards him, his nasty plans for her creeping into a wicked sneer.