Page 9 of The O Intention


  I re-read my text over and over. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her know I was checking on her. Then again, if I didn’t want her to know I wouldn’t have told her. Her question rears its head again and I push it to the very back of my mind.

  From: Alix. Time: 2:37 am.

  Checking my schedule? I bet that made you question what exactly it is you want with me…As for sleep, you know what they say: ‘one more chapter’.

  I smile.

  To: Alix. Time: 2:39am

  How many chapters have you read since you told yourself that?

  I get an instant reply.

  From: Alix. Time: 2:40 am.

  Seven and a half… don’t you dare judge me. One more and I’ll go to bed. Maybe.

  P.s. You want me so badly right now, don’t you Mr. Never Texts?

  I pause before replying. I shouldn’t text back. Dammit! I shouldn’t text back. My fingers itch and I want to respond so badly. I want to tell her yes. I want to send her a detailed message filled with all of the dirty and naughty things I want to do to her. Instead, I lock my screen and sit my phone on my bedside table. I go back to staring at the clock above my bed. I watch the minutes flick by one after the other until twelve whole minutes have past, and then I can’t take it anymore. I grab my phone, unlock it and type out my response.

  To: Alix. Time: 2:52

  Okay. You win. I DO want you. I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone in my life. I’m kicking myself for letting you leave here earlier. Stay with me tomorrow night and I’ll show you everything you want to see.

  I hit send before my brain can stop me. I stare at the screen as more minutes tick by. I wait and I wait and I wait for some kind of clever, egotistical response… but it never comes. I picture her lying in bed with a book open on her lap. I imagine her ugly cat-thing snuggled in beside her and a wide, smug grin on her face as she purposely ignores my text. I’ve finally caved and now I’m right where she wants me.

  Alix

  “You’re happy this morning,” Roger, the jolly door man tells me as I approach the main entrance to the hotel.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t on last night when I came in wearing nothing but a coat on top of my underwear.

  “It’s a good day,” I say, as I pull a bill from my skirt pocket and give it to him.

  I don’t know how much it is, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts.

  If only Roger knew why it’s such a good day. Last night Mr. Jesse O’Ryan sent me a text I never thought I’d receive from him, and I didn’t reply—on purpose too. You see, I’m a big fan of cat and mouse, but I’m always the cat and just for once, I’d like to be the mouse—a mouse with sharp teeth, of course. The only down side of the morning was the phone call from my mother. She insisted I come over for dinner tomorrow night. Apparently Grace, my younger sister, has something exciting to share with the family.

  Gag.

  Ignoring that, I practically bounce through the lobby and into the main bar area. I move lightly and quickly—as if I’d drunk four cups of coffee with breakfast. I contemplated four, but stopped when my heart started beating its way through my ribcage at two and a half. I’m going to crash hard in a few hours, but right now, I’m walking on rainbows.

  Marise is manning the bar all by himself and as I approach, I take note of his stiff, uncomfortable posture. He spots me not a second later and offers me a small wave. Usually, any greeting with Marise involves screeching, balloons, and glitter throwing. Okay, maybe not the latter two, but you get the idea. It’s then I notice the man in the dark gray suit sitting on the stool in front of the bar; and there’s only two men who can make even the liveliest employee in this hotel do his job—Jesse or his father, William. I’m willing to bet my entire book collection that it’s not Jesse’s father sitting at the bar at nine in the morning drinking wine.

  “Jes—” I pause and glance at Marise who quirks an eyebrow at me. “Mr. O’Ryan?” I quickly clarify.

  He whirls around on his stool to face me and, holy shit, he looks tired—and drunk. He sways briefly before leaving his seat.

  “Alix, there you are.” He attempts to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket, but misses.

  I peer around him and over to Marise. “How much has he had to drink?”

  He shrugs. “One. He was drunk and sitting here before I started.”

  I look back to Jesse with a glare. “What are you doing? You’re going to get yourself in troub—”

  He presses his long index finger against my lips and cuts me off “You shush your pretty mouth. You didn’t text me back last night.”

  With a snort, Marise turns and begins to ‘clean’ glasses. I know he’s pretending because the bar hasn’t been open for long. How many glasses could we have gone through already? I snatch Jesse’s wrist.

  “Marise, can you call security and have them take Mr. O’Ryan back to his room before any guests recognize his stupid face.”

  Jesse feigns insult in that annoyingly adorable way only drunken people you care about can do.

  “Sure.” Marise reaches for the phone, but Jesse yanks his hand back and spins around.

  “Don’t call security. I’m not drink at all,” he says while swaying and convincing nobody. “I just want to talk to Alix and then I’ll be on my way.”

  I shake my head and take his wrist in my hand again. “I’ll take Mr. O’Ryan back to his room. Do you think you can look after the bar by yourself for a little while longer?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  Without hesitation, I pull Jesse along behind me. His steps are heavy and loud, and draw the attention of everyone we walk past. Thankfully, none of them seem to take a second look.

  “You didn’t text me back.” He announces—rather loudly—as we approach the elevator.

  “Shut up,” I snap over my shoulder and slap the ‘up’ arrow.

  As the light goes green and a ding sounds off, the doors open and I shove Jesse inside. I hold my breath until the doors close and the elevator begins to rise. I watch the lights as the floors fall away from us one by one. I need to stash Jesse in his room until the alcohol wears off. I can’t risk having him walking around demanding to know why I didn’t text him back. Unexpectedly, the elevator stops halfway and as the doors open, I grab Jesse by the jacket and pull him against me so the newcomer doesn’t see his face—or mine—as I hide myself with his body. Hopefully, we look like a man and a woman too involved in each other to notice anyone else. As I hold him against me, he finds it funny to toy with the strands of my brown hair and hold it over my top lip. He smiles widely at my ‘moustache’.

  “It suits you,” he states, and I swat him away.

  “Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious,” I deadpan.

  “You need to lighten up.” Two index fingers find their way to my face and he pokes them into my flesh, forcing me to smile.

  I need to lighten up? That’s extremely rich coming from him.

  “I’m trying to save your ass,” I hiss in a whisper. “You’re too paranoid to fuck on a beach, but you’ll gladly get wasted in front of your employees, and not-so-subtly demand to know why I didn’t text you back.”

  He sobers briefly and the elevator stops to let the passenger out. When the doors close again, it’s just us. We’re alone.

  “So,” he sighs, ignoring my previous rant. “Are you staying with me tonight?”

  A question I would have answered yes to on the way to work this morning is now a solid no. “No. I’m not.”

  A frown—a sexy frown—falls over his features and he takes a step back. “You know, I’d have been a lot less anxious and a lot less inclined to drink the early hours of this morning away if you’d just responded to my text.”

  “My answer would’ve been yes if you weren’t sitting at the bar drunk when I arrived. No offense, but I’m not a fan of whiskey dick. It’s awkward.”

  Blank features stare back at me. “Whiskey dick?”

  “It’s when you drink so much
you can’t get hard. It’s common, sadly, and not something women find appealing.”

  A new confidence returns to his features. His brow pulls closer, his eyes darken and his teeth grit together. “I don’t have that.”

  “You won’t really know until—”

  Jesse snatches my hand and presses it against his slacks… right against his hard cock.

  Holy fuck.

  “Told you,” he smirks, and ever so slightly, closes the distance between us.

  My mouth is open and I know I intend to say something… but I don’t. Hot waves pulse between my thighs and I squeeze them together.

  “Now, answer me again.” His voice is rough and husky. It glides over my skin and vibrates each and every one of my pores. “Are you staying with me tonight?”

  My heart begins to pound against my ribcage, but it’s not the result of the coffee this time. I like this. I like his confidence… but I’m not staying with him tonight. When I stay with him, I want to be refreshed. I want to be alert and running on a full night’s sleep. Then it hits me… a plan to rival all plans. If my parents thought Scott Paul, an established mechanic at a well known car dealer was impressive, wait until they meet Jesse O’Ryan, the VP of a million dollar company. I smile at Jesse and he, so very obviously, becomes suspicious.

  “I’ll spend tomorrow night with you, but only if you come with me to my parents house for dinner.”

  It’s a fair deal and if he really wants me to stay with him then it shouldn’t be a problem.

  “No way.” He steps back and my hand slips from his slacks. “That’s not a fair deal.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “One dinner for a night’s worth of sex? Most men have to pay thousands of dollars for that kind of service.”

  Awkward. I didn’t mean to compare myself to a prostitute and thankfully Jesse doesn’t seem to notice.

  “I don’t do parents, Alix.”

  I want to make a joke about not being able to ‘do’ anyone, but quickly reconsider. I want him to help me, not fight me.

  “I’ll tell you what. If you come to dinner with me tomorrow night, you can consider your debt repaid. We don’t have to go on another lunch or dinner date. It’s finished.”

  As he ponders the idea, the doors open to the floor of the penthouse and we exit.

  “And what about the other thing?” he asks as we approach the entrance to his suite.

  I lean against the white door and smile up at him. I can’t believe he still refuses to say orgasm.

  “If I’m staying the night at your place, I hope it’s not to play cards.”

  A pink hue flashes over his face and he ignores me as he swipes his card and unlocks the door. I wait patiently as he taps his card against the palm of his hand. I don’t care how long it takes for him to get inside his room, just as long as he stays there and doesn’t come out.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow to arrange a time to pick you up for dinner.”

  I grin triumphantly and pat him on the shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I head back down the hall, but before I completely disappear into the elevator, I turn around. “You’re never going to hear the end of this,” I warn him.

  With a glare over his shoulder, he steps inside his room and shuts the door. I hit the button and the elevator door closes. Slumping against the wall, I smile to myself. For the first time in years, I won’t be the black sheep at the family dinner and maybe for the first time in years, I might actually enjoy the occasion.

  Chapter Ten

  Jesse

  I switch the radio off as my brain slams into my skull. It’s a painful reminder of why I stopped over-drinking years ago. Once Alix walked me back to my suite, I crashed on the couch and slept for twenty hours. Naturally, when I woke up, I felt like I was hit by a bus and I’ve felt that way ever since. I’d like to write yesterday off as a day that never happened, but unfortunately I wasn’t the only one who witnessed it. I still can’t believe the way I acted… I got drunk because I was trying to ease my nerves. Alix didn’t text me back, and I knew she either fell asleep, or ignored it on purpose. My behavior was pathetic really, spurred by hormones and nothing else. Thankfully, my slip up yesterday has gone unnoticed by everyone except Alix and the other boy who works the bar—Marise.

  I pull up outside Alix’s apartment complex and check my watch. I’m on time—exactly on time. Seven o’clock is the time she requested I be here by, and now she’s the one running late.

  I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this dinner. Alix told me to suit up (as if I own any other type of clothes), and if her parents ask, I’m to tell them Alix and I have been dating for seven weeks. I don’t know what her plan is, but I know it’s not going to be good.

  With a heavy exhale, I prop my elbow against the window and rest my head. Instantly, my neck begins to ache so I drop it and out of the corner of my eye, I see white. I turn my attention in its direction and almost lose my breath at the sight of Alix. I’ve never seen her look so… not like a bad influence on everyone around her. Her strapless dress stops a few inches short of the knee and allows more wriggle room, instead of sticking to her body like cling wrap. I wonder what she’s wearing underneath… I shake my head and clear my throat as my train of thought slips south. That is definitely not something I should be thinking before a dinner with her parents. If I take it any further, I doubt I’ll be able to look her father in the eye.

  As she steps from the stairs and into the parking lot, I quickly jump out of the car. The cool evening wind blows her new, softly curled hair over her shoulder and I swear I barely recognize her. Gone is the proud, arrogant woman, who holds my balls in a vice, replaced by a girl who looks surprisingly tame and… innocent.

  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” she says as she approaches me.

  The corners of her glossed lips pull up as she flashes me a knowing smirk. Two can play at this game. I smirk back. “Not a ghost. A lady. It’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with a lady. You scrub up well.”

  She chuckles and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, Mr. O’Ryan. I can assure you, I’m most definitely not a lady.”

  More book puns. By now, I know I shouldn’t expect anything less. “If you’re not a lady, then what are you?”

  “A dreamer who likes to play dress up from time to time.”

  “How is that any different to a lady?”

  She glares at my question and I realize its sexist undertone.

  “A lady is a woman who plays the parts she’s supposed to. A dreamer plays any part they want, sometimes all of them at once.”

  I process her words and it actually makes sense… not that I’m surprised. Alix is a clever girl. “And you’re a dreamer?”

  She nods. “Right.”

  I cross my arms and lean against my car. “And who are you playing right now?”

  She plants her hand on her hip and flicks her hair. “I am the underappreciated girlfriend of one of Empyre Magazine’s most eligible bachelors, who also happens to be the Vice President of a very successful chain of hotels.”

  I’m grinning and I can’t help it. “Lucky you.”

  “Yeah, lucky me. When we get to my parents house though, you’ll still be Empyre Magazine’s bachelor, who also happens to be the Vice President of a very successful chain of hotels, but I’ll be the waste-of-space daughter who can’t do anything right, and has absolutely no hopes or dreams.” She rolls her beautiful eyes. “Joy.”

  “It won’t be that bad,” I tell her, but she’s not convinced.

  Every parent is proud of their child in some way, shape or form. Granted some find it difficult to express, like my father for example, but I know deep down he couldn’t run this business without me. He knows it too. Tonight at dinner, I’ll show Alix that her parents are, in fact, proud of her, just as much as they are of her sister and if they aren’t, then I’ll bring her back here and we’ll have our own dinner.

  I circl
e the car and open Alix’s door. With a sly smile, she slips inside and I shut it. When I join her and shut my own door, she runs her fingers through her hair and straightens her dress. Then, she abruptly turns to me.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you not to mention that I work for you. I can only imagine the lecture I’ll get about dating my boss.”

  Is that what we’re doing? Dating? We’ve been spending a lot of time together… so I guess technically we’re dating. She catches her use of words too and her eyes widen.

  “I mean, we’re not dating, but as far as my parents are concerned…”

  An awkward silence falls and she straightens herself in her seat once again. Not dating. Right.

  “And when I don’t show up to the next family dinner?”

  She thinks on it for a second before shrugging. “I’ll tell them we broke up.”

  In my opinion, it’d be an easier situation to handle if I don’t show up at all, but yesterday my drunken self made a deal with her. I’ll go to her family dinner to impress her parents and in return, we don’t have to do any more lunches or dinners. It’s a bonus, I guess. The meals never seem to end well anyway. I also asked her to stay at my place tonight. The thought sends a course of excitement through my body… the excitement is tainted with fear, though. How do I even begin to impress a woman like Alix? How do I impress her sexually? I don’t even know what she likes and I’m in no position to ask. I bet she’d enjoy it if I did ask. She’d enjoy watching me try to spit out my words while turning a feminine shade of pink. It’s amazing how she can drop the ‘f bomb’ and talk about cocks all day without any discomfort and yet the mere thought of my asking her what she enjoys sexually sends a hot, embarrassing rush through my veins. I’ll never understand it.

  Ever.

  ***

  When Alix points out her parent’s house and we pull up into the driveway, my mouth falls open. Their house is gorgeous—and big—much bigger than I was expecting. You don’t really appreciate a beautiful home until you’ve lived in a hotel for a good portion of your adult life. Lots of windows span the house, from top to bottom, and the traditional light stone exterior is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.