The Resistance(11)

“I do. I didn’t bring you up here to have sex. I know you won’t believe me, but I was having fun with you at the bar and wanted more—”

“More time?”

“More than a half-hour downstairs.”

“I’m confused, Dalton.” I walk to the kitchen and take a sip of my water, then say, “I’m not gonna play dumb here. Once I knew we were coming to your room I figured more might happen and I wasn’t fully against that. We talked and ordered food. Things slowed down, then you started the flirting back up. I start to give in. You pull away. Why am I here? Because I’m not sure anymore.”

“I wanted you alone. I wanted you without any eyes on us. I want to get to know you better.”

“You make me feel slutty for wanting what I thought we both wanted. You brought me to this fancy penthouse, started talking about where we’re from, and long-forgotten dreams. So forgive me if I’ve read this all wrong, but what you’re saying and how you’re acting sends two different messages.” I walk toward the door. “Maybe I wanted to play,” I say, but stop, and look him in the eyes. “But I don’t think I want to anymore. I’ll let myself out.”

“Wait. Don’t go. Stay. Whether we have sex or not, I just want your company.” His expression appears sincere, but he seems to have several sides to him.

With my back against the door, I keep my eyes on his. “Look. I don’t sleep around… much. But I have slept with someone just because it was Wednesday.” I shrug. “So I’m not innocent over here, but I work hard and I have a pretty crappy social life because of it. Sometimes it’s nice to feel a warm touch that vibrates with excitement instead of a cold one that’s battery-operated.” I step forward as if I owe him more, more of an explanation, or more of me, I’m not sure. “Judge me if you must, but I’m in Vegas and now officially on vacation. And despite what you may think, I’ve only had the one drink so far today, so I’m not drunk. I’m a grown woman who appreciates a handsome face and the artistry of a tattoo that has meaning to the person wearing it. I actually thought we’d have dinner and a good time. All that came from somewhere pure, somewhere that now feels dirty, a little tainted. So I’m going now and if one day you find yourself not so lost in Los Angeles, you know my information.”

I don’t wait for a response or apology. I don’t know Dalton well enough to know if he’d offer one anyway. So I go without looking back, passing the room service waiter on the way, and hop in an elevator that’s for the exclusive use of the two penthouses.

Half expecting to hear him call after me, my finger hovers over the Lobby button, but I count to ten and when I don’t hear anything, I push it. The doors start to close when a hand reaches in, stopping them. Dalton peeks around the corner with a big smile in place, and says, “Can we start over? Stay for dinner?”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. I like your honesty and I don’t get much honesty in my line of work.”

“You’re an undercover narc. Of course you don’t get much honesty. Isn’t that why you got into the business?”

A sly smile crosses his face, revealing a small dimple in his cheek. A light sparks from within, reflecting in his eyes, and with a nod of his head, he says, “Come back. I’ll feed you and give you the sex you came up here for. Because it’s a Friday and while Friday may not be hump day, it’s still a damn good day of the week.”

My mouth drops open. “The sex? You’ll give me the sex because it’s Friday?” I roll my eyes while huffing, and then push the lobby button twice.

Stepping inside, he blocks the doors from closing and a buzz is heard from overhead. With his arms stretched wide, he looks into my eyes. “No. I mean, if you want the food that’s currently getting cold inside, you can have it. If you want to have sex, let’s fuck. You can have anything you want.”

The elevator starts buzzing even louder, escalating its level of warning. Dalton spreads his feet apart to hold the doors open and reaches for me. “I’ll even call you Holli since that’s what you prefer.”

He’s sexy and when he’s flirting with me, even sexier. I can’t give in too easily though. I should make a few ground rules, or at least one. “I’ll only come back on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You still call me Holliday because I like the way you say it. I’m still going to call you Dalton though, because I like the sound of that.”

“Deal, Holliday.”