“Now slide your hands down, slowly,” he whispered. “Imagine my hands with yours, sliding the slick soap all the way down your thighs, until our fingers tangle in the hair between them, until we feel how wet you are.” He paused for a long moment, and she could hear him breathing. “Are you wet, Samantha?”
Her body shuddered, and her stomach constricted as she touched herself. “Oh God, Tristan.”
“Answer me.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
A loud knock sounded at the door, and she almost dropped the phone. She sat up, letting the soap drop to the bottom of the tub and grabbed her robe off the floor.
“I gotta go!” she said quickly. “Someone’s here.” She slid the phone across the bathroom floor, quickly rose out of the water, and stepped out of the tub. “Just a minute!” Then she pulled a fluffy white towel from the rack and wrapped it around her head.
She was still tying the belt at her waist when she got to the door and stretched up on tiptoe to look out the peephole.
A bellhop stood in the middle of the hall. There was a hopper full of luggage behind him, and she mentally cursed him for interrupting them.
“What the hell does he want?” she whispered, but opened the door anyway and smiled. “Hi there. I think there must be a misunderstanding, because all my luggage is already here.”
He glanced at his tablet, checking the room number, then back up to Samantha. “Are you Miss Smiles?” he asked, his brows rising as he waited for her response.
“Well yes, but—”
He then lowered a dolly from the hopper, and soon her bubble wrapped creation was positioned right in front of her door. “Is this not yours, Miss Smiles?”
She covered her mouth, shocked she’d been able to forget such a thing. “Yes, that’s mine,” she clarified. “I—forgot.” She scratched the back of her head, and glanced around her hotel room, looking for a place to put it. “Would it be okay for you to put it in the bedroom? I don’t want my friend seeing it when she comes over.”
He nodded quickly, then disappeared to the bedroom a moment before Renee appeared at the door.
“What’s going on?” Renee said, grabbing hold of a strand of Samantha’s still dripping hair that had escaped from her towel. “You ruined your hair.”
Samantha closed the door behind them, and stepped into the room. “It’s not ruined. I took a bath.”
Renee shrugged, just as the bellhop came back from the bedroom with the empty dolly. She raised her brows suggestively, then hung her garment bag up on the back of the bathroom door. “Sowing your oats already?”
The bellhop turned bright red, but came to stand in front of Samantha anyway. “Ma’am,” he began. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing this evening?”
Samantha shook her head, not knowing if she should tip him or not, but after Renee’s comment, she fetched a twenty off her dresser and curled it up in his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate it.” She then escorted him to the hall, locked the door, and turned around, seeing her best friend lounging on the couch with her feet up.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked Renee. “I thought you were taking a nap?”
Renee shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. Plus, I thought it would be more fun to get ready together.” She rose to her feet and unzipped the garment bag before turning around. “I brought you something to wear.”
Samantha laughed. “I brought my own clothes, you know.”
Renee bit her bottom lip, “But your clothes are boring. Besides, I brought you something special. Something hot.” She pulled a wooden hanger from the bag, and Samantha gazed at the small piece of black fabric that hung by straps as thin as spaghetti.
She raised her brows before looking at her best friend again. Because it barely looked large enough to fit Renee, and Samantha was much more voluptuous. “That’s not going to fit me.”
Renee pulled a pair of five-inch heels out of the bag. “Don’t be silly.” She then took Samantha’s hand and began pulling her toward the bathroom. “Now, let’s get your hair blown out and get you ready.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you ready? Tonight is about you, Ren, not me.”
Renee positioned Samantha in front of the mirror and shook her head at their reflection. “You’re single for the first time in six years, and there happens to be some really hot groomsmen.”
“Ren—” she tried to protest, but Renee only pushed her down in the chair and pulled the towel from her head “You’re going to let loose tonight, Samantha. That’s all I want. And yes, I’m using my bride status to get you to conform to my will. Get over it.”