RETRACE (2 page)

“Babe, I think we’ll have to continue this some other time,” I lie again. She smiles but her eyes turn a shade gloomier, making me feel like a total dick. “Let me take you back to the bar,” I try to make some sort of amends. She composes, blinks at me, and slips her hand to my jean’s back pocket.
What the fuck?

When she’s done punching numbers into my phone, she hands it back to me, saying, “Call me.” Not waiting for my reaction, she unlocks the door, and sashays her skirt-clad ass back to the noisy, darkened, vast room.

Even before I push open the exit door to the chilled evening her number is deleted from my phone. What a day. My mood drops a notch lower as I think about not having a real home to go back to. The complex where I bought a duplex will be ready in two days. For the time being, I’m shacked at some hotel within walking distance from Jake’s. I crack my knuckles, having Katie’s confused look play before my eyes again. I must sort this mess out first thing tomorrow morning.

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, Mrs. Perry.” I smile at the older lady with the plaid, lilac suit. She studies me with kind eyes. “I’m thrilled to start teaching at your studio, can’t wait to meet the girls,” I add, genuinely thrilled. She nods in response.

“Make sure to bring your own music, we’ll provide the rest.” She writes something with a thin, gold pen in her floral journal. “Some of them might be less… ahem,” she lightly coughs, “behaved.” She raises her eyes to me.

“That’s fine, I’m sure I’ll manage. Nothing like a bit of a challenge to make life interesting,” I say and inwardly hate my statement when reflected on my private life. The last thing I want is any sort of complication or drama. I’m done with that. I don’t have any strength left in me to deal with anything that’s remotely emotional. I’ve already been subjected to much more than I could ever handle.

“It’s best to be here about ten minutes before your class starts. I’ll be with you in case you need any assistance.” A subtle way to tell me she’ll be assessing me through my first lesson.

“That’s kind of you, thank you,” I answer and she gracefully stands up, letting me know our time has come to an end. Everything about the lady before me tells me she used to be a dancer, from her airy motions to her elegant posture. She sees me to the door and wishes me a pleasant evening. I wait for the glass door to close behind me before letting my lips stretch into a broad smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this thrilled about something. I can hardly contain my excitement. I button the three buttons of my camel colored wool coat, lift up the lapel, and secure the white cashmere scarf around my neck. I know that in local weather standards this doesn’t count as a cold evening but it is to me. For a tropical climate native this is borderline torment.

“Hello,” I greet the clerk at the hotel’s reception.

“Good evening, miss.” He grins at me too lavishly. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like to check-in. The reservation should be under Nia Mitchell.” I prefer to go with my mom’s maiden name, somehow using my real last name just doesn’t seem right, given that I’m starting fresh. Having a sense of being watched, I look out of the corner of my eye at the older gentleman in an expensive suit that blatantly checks me out. The receptionist’s voice brings my attention back on him.

“Here you go, Miss Mitchell. You’ll be staying in room 255, it’s on the second floor. The elevators are to your right.” He gestures with his hand to said direction.

“Thank you.” I take the offered bundle that holds a key card. I pull my carryon’s handle up and turn on my heels. A hand on my shoulder stops me from taking another step. I turn back to the picture of vanity in the suit. He hands me a business card, held between two fingers, and winks. A room number is written across one side. The only thing I can really see is the shinning gold band on his finger. I force a sweet smile and inch closer to him.

“Wow…” I feign a girlie giggle. “Can I ask for a small favor though?” I add in a low,
happy birthday Mr. President voice
. His eyes light as he leans toward me with a smug grin. “Can you please add your wife’s number to the back of the card, so I’ll be able to call her and tell her what a treasure of a husband she’s got?” He flinches, and curses something under his breath, not so polished any more. I need to kill the urge to both kick him in his straying chub, and flip him off. Asshole.

I take a step closer toward the mirror in the elevator, checking my chapped, reddened lips. This wind is not something I see myself getting used to anytime soon. I clear smudged mascara from under my hazel eyes, combing my fingers through my long, straight hair. A thought about how my mom calls my dark hair silk sneaks to my mind and the familiar feeling of good mixed with ill surfaces, making my heart twinge. I contemplate whether to call home, but decide it’s too soon. They know I’ve arrived safely and that should do for now.

I throw the room a fleeting glance, leave the carry-on by the bed after getting out my purple toiletries bag, and hurry to the shower. I let the warm water stream while getting undressed. I’ve been looking forward to this shower the entire day. Two more days. Two more days until my own place, my own shower, my own little balcony. As steam starts to cover the glass door, I get under the water, close my eyes, and let the calming warmth wash the day away.

I talk to The Russian on the phone while waiting for the cute receptionist to check me in. “Sir, I’m not sure I’ll be available before the end of the week.” I’m not going on a job before I have my new apartment ready. Anyhow, the thought of the long flight and the predator wife of the man I’m talking to, is not something I’m willing to even entertain right now. “How about I ask Jake to give you a call?”

My client, The Russian, is not someone that easily accepts no for an answer, but with my current mood, I’m not someone who’ll let anyone make him do anything he is not inclined to do. I take my room key from the receptionist who smiles shyly at me. I give the card a brief look, cataloguing the number and send her a thanking nod. I drape my backpack over my shoulder and use the stairs so the call won’t drop. Or maybe I should have chosen the elevator for that exact reason. I lean my back against the wall beside the door to the room, ending the call.

“Sir, thank you for the generous offer, but I’ll have to pass this time.” To his less than pleased assent, I press end. I’m done with everyone fucking my brains for today. I’m done with this day, period.

As soon as I enter the room I do a quick peep, drop my bag to the floor, and kick my shoes off. I toss my wallet, keys, and phone to the small table and pull my black long-sleeved shirt over my head. I throw the shirt to the bed, and start unbuckling my belt a step before the bathroom door. I send my hand to the handle and before I know it, the door flings open.

Holy. Fucking. Sweet. Jesus.

A startled cry rips the silence in the room, but the only thing I can focus on is the impeccable naked body before me.

Those tits.

Fuck. Me. Dead. She’s completely shaven. My eyes literally fly out of their sockets.

“Turn around,
turn around
!”

I finally register someone’s talking to me, screaming at me, and I forcefully unglue my eyes from the masterpiece before me to meet her face.

Shit. What a beauty! Straight, silky, dark brown hair, big hazel eyes, pouty pink mouth. She flings her arms to cover herself, still urging me to turn around, completely shaken.

“Talk about room service. Best. Hotel. Ever,” I say with an amused bite, still very much facing her. Truth be told, there’s nothing I can really do. That’s a vision I’m not willing nor able to stop gaping at, even if I wanted to. She huffs, and turns her back to me, only to reward me with a direct view of the greatest gift in the form of a most supreme piece of ass. My dick twitches, highly appreciating the generosities showered at him.

The bathroom door is slammed in my face followed by, “I’m calling security.”

“Hey, it’s
you
parading naked in
my room
, babe. No need to call in the feds.” The door opens, and two livid hazel eyes, beautiful but pissed as hell, squint at me from the narrow space.

“Get out of my room
now
!” Her nostrils flare and I find it mighty charming.

I can’t subdue the smile crawling back to my lips. “I’ll do whatever you want, but the thing is that you are kind of in
my room
.”

Her stare narrows to thin slits. I take a step back and reach for the key I’ve left on the table and flash it at her. When she sees the number on the plastic evidence, confusion takes over her delicate features. Damn she is pretty. Getting out of the bathroom, she secures a towel over her breasts. She can go ahead and cover herself with cement for all I care. What’s needed is already imprinted safely in my memory.

I hold my hands up in surrender with a side curve of my lips, and say, “I guess there must be some sort of a mix-up.”

For the first time since this delightful encounter began, she really looks at me, and her guarded, panicked expression gradually fades. I barely hold in a chuckle as I notice it’s
her
checking
me
out now.

“Hey, turn around, stop looking at me!” I say, making a production of covering my bare chest with my hand and snort, bringing the livid expression back to her face. Only now, an adorable flush is added to her cheeks. I could be a total dick and ask her to come with me to sort this thing out at reception. I play with the appealing idea for a few long seconds, making myself grin.

“I’m glad you find this amusing.
Can you just leave
,” she says, and when my eyes fly to hers, her lips crack at the edge.

I can’t overlook the fact that my mood that was about to cross Hellville’s border has surprisingly turned around. “This room is equally mine.” I state the obvious, buying time. I don’t give a flying fuck about this room, or any other for that matter, but if it gives me more time to drink her in, I’ll be damned if I’ll make any effort to move. She wrinkles her nose in what seems a pensive trait. Damn adorable.

“Give me a moment to get dressed,” she says, taking a few steps to grab a purple carry-on. I run my eyes over her long legs. The view is quite magnificent. The towel is doing a great job of barely covering more than a few inches below her ass. She has mocha, endless legs that glimmer in a velvety kind of way. My dick assures he got the message my mind just sent him, and I need to adjust myself. The zipper’s friction is not something I need against me right now. She shuts the door behind her and I shrug on my shirt for her sake. That’s definitely a case of high-class meets good girl. By no means is she my lately “easy type,” the one I’d treat like nothing but a piece of ass I’d like to tap and send on her way. I’d have this one for breakfast, snack, lunch, and dinner. Who am I kidding? I’d have
her
via IV.

Even though her body is now fully clothed, it does shit to relax the situation in my pants. It just instigates it even more. She has one of those shoulder revealing kind of loose shirts on. It’s obvious she’s braless. My eyes are magnetized to her teasing, pointed nipples that peek from under the delicate fabric. Her incredible legs are stretched below low, very low, cut-offs. That’s a first… I’m not sure which version I find more attractive, the naked one, or the hinting one. One thing I can’t argue with, she is as sexy as she is exquisitely beautiful.

“I’ll just call the reception,” she says as she makes her way to the phone on the round table between two embroidered wing chairs. Her back is to me and I can’t break my gaze from her ass. In a matter of minutes I’ve turned into a horny stalker. Stellar.

“Hi, I’m calling from room 255. Apparently there’s been some sort of confusion. It’s seems you’ve double booked the room. There’s a gentleman here who apparently was also assigned this room.” I listen to her as she speaks and detect some remnant of an accent. It’s quite faint, but still there. “Hold on please,” she says and turns to look at me over her shoulder.

“They need your name,” she does that nose wrinkling thing again and the corner of my lips tugs.

“It’s Mitchell, Reeves Mitchell.” Her eyebrows rise and she gives me a curious little gaze.

“Oh, I see,” she says to the phone, after giving them my name. “Ah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” she adds. “Thank you so much, he’ll be there soon.” She puts the phone down. She leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms. “Apparently we share the same last name.”

My eyes squint at her, and it’s not because of the explanation she’s just provided, it’s because of her body language as she gave it. Something she said makes her uncomfortable, as if she were lying. Probably it’s not about the mix-up as I’ll be able to validate it soon. Maybe it’s about her name?

Strange… And I’d know it. This is what I do. A part of my expertise is reading people’s body language/behavior. One of the many perks of having your life at risk, constantly.

“I see,” I grab my backpack. “So, enjoy
my room
, I’m going to thank reception for this bonus…” I gift her with a wicked side smile. She holds her lips with her teeth, but her try is futile, as they pull up enough to reveal a smile. “So, for the sake of proper conduct, Miss Mitchell,” I send out my hand for a shake, “you know my name…”

She observes my offered palm for a short moment, and fills it with her soft one. Bare, groomed fingernails, just the way I like. In unison our stares drop to where our palms link. Something’s happening there, something that produces energy with unworldly speed.

“Miss Mitchell,” she says, prompting our stares to re-meet. Her expression a transparent tease. I nod, amusement playing on my face.

“Well, we’ve crossed nudity off the list, so I guess it’s safe to say we should be okay on a first name basis…”

She mirrors my glee. “It’s Nia.”

Nia. I repeat her name in my head. Everything about her is just what I like, neat and natural, and absolutely gorgeous. All the good reasons for me to get the hell out of here.