05 | mr. romano

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05 | mr. romano

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The bright sunlight is what jolts me from my sleep. That and the sudden chill that came from the vent above me. My eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of the floor to ceiling windows glaring directly at me. Turns out I'd fallen asleep on my back, my hair neatly laying under me, much to my surprise.

Memories of last night flash through my mind, recalling the three other rounds after he came the first time.

Yeah, we were busy.

Turning my head slightly, I catch sight of the man in question and try not to gasp at the view of his beautifully taut back. He's resting on his stomach, his head on his hands, and turned the other way. He has delicately inked wings along his upper back — I didn't see this last night.

I don't have the time to admire them before I realize what time it is. "Fuck," I whisper under my breath as I visually search for my purse in the pile of clothes in the corner. With no luck, I'm forced to get up from my spot in the bed and limp over to the stash with sore legs.

Finally finding it, I check the time — 7:27 AM. Crap. Laurie and I are supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Romano at 8:30. With that in mind, I spare the man a short glance before quickly throwing on my dress and grabbing my shoes.

He shifts slightly, making me pause in my footsteps. And then he goes back to sleep.

Silently thanking God, I continue my haste and make my way down the steps of the lofted bedroom. It's a clear shot to the elevator so I waste no time rushing towards it and pressing the down button - maybe four times too many, but something in me was yelling "The more you press it, the faster it'll arrive!" 

Obviously, that was not the case considering it was taking its own sweet time.

Finally. Fina-fucking-ly, the doors open with a ding and I can't help the wince that escapes me at the sound. Praying that this doesn't wake him up, I swiftly step into the lift and press the seven-button with the same amount of fervor. This time, it seems to pick up that I'm in a rush and it closes before I can blink.

Thank God.

The walk - or rather limp - to my hotel room was painful, to say the least. Rushing out of mystery man's hotel room was based on pure adrenaline, but now that it's worn off, I want to do nothing but cry about what I'll be missing and of course, ice my inner thighs.

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