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“Up to you. Anything else you want to experience tonight? Or we can head out?”

“Wanna go and get a shower together?” he asks.

I realise I’m not quite ready to say goodbye and call it a night just yet.

Chapter nineteen

Cam

Ihold in a breath, hoping she’ll agree. Pleasure spreads through me at her nod.

“How about at my place?” I push my luck.

“There are showers here,” she replies.

“I know, but if you come to mine, we can snuggle after,” I say with a wink. Is she going to admit that she likes that? Or fight me on it?

“Do you have snacks?”

“It’s twenty-four-hour room service. How do hot chips sound?”

“Fucking amazing. Playing always makes me ravenous. Let’s go.”

Okay, so maybe it was the hot chips rather than my company that won her over, but I’ll take anything right now. Hopefully, I’ll be able to lure her into a snuggle once she’s full of potatoes.

“They do amazing hash browns too. We could order those as a side dish.”

“Fuck, Cam, you just had me, but here you are trying to seduce me with potatoes.”

“Is it working?” I ask.

“One thousand per cent, yes.”

We make our way back to the changing room and Abby switches her robe for some leggings and a t-shirt, topping it with her coat. She adds the sky scraper heels which should look odd but my cock gives a twitch at the sight. Maybe I will get the heels round my ears before the night is through.

It’s a wrench the next morning when I wake up alone, my muscles and arse sore from the pounding my body took as Dan and Abby had their way with me.

Last night was mind-blowing. And she’d been keen to come back for fries. I’d even convinced her to have a tiny snuggle. But she’d wriggled free of my bear hug much sooner than I’d hoped to head back to her own place. I could tell from the mulish expression on her face that her mind was made up, so that was that.

I wanted her to stay, but it’s clear to me that her independence means a lot to her. If I can only have her for playtime and sharing potato-based meals, then so be it. That’s what I’ll take. But frustration twists in my belly as I hope for more.

Golden light creeps toward me across the white sheets as the sun breaches the windows. I rarely shut the curtains in this room, enjoying looking out at the city—seeing the twinkly lights at night and the hum of activity in the daylight hours. That’s when I make it back to the hotel in daylight hours. I’ve been putting in long days at The Juniper. Trying to get the team working well together. And this week, we’ve started rudimentary work on the apartment on the upper floor as well as the workwe’re doing on the basement. I’m planning to move into the top floor once the basics are ready: running water and a shower, a door to shut out the dust, and windows that don’t leak. I don’t need much, so a basic fit out will be fine for now and allow me more time to work in the building. We’ll fit it out to a more luxurious standard as the rest of the work progresses. One of the ideas for the top floor was to turn it into a small boutique hotel with a couple of rooms. I’m still mulling that one over. For now, a luxury flat sounds like a good shout. And I don’t even know what I’m doing when the building is finished yet. Sell it? That doesn’t sit right with me when my grandmother bequeathed it to me. Or put a manager in? I don’t have a clue how to run that kind of venue. I’ll need some kind of help. Tom from the Thirst Trap comes to mind. He was really friendly when we met and eager for a tour, too. He did offer to answer any questions I might have about the hospitality side of the business, given he’s been involved with that for years.

My phone buzzing from the nightstand draws my attention and I reach over to look at who’s calling before answering with a smile. “Saffy, how are you?”

“Hey, I’m good. How are you? I miss you,” she tells me, her tone sounding wistful.

“I’m doing okay. Getting stuck into the renovations now. Might even be able to move into the top floor in the next few weeks.”

“I hope you’re not working too hard,” she says. “I know how intense you get when you’re in a project. And I know this one means a lot to you.”

“It does. I promise I’m trying not to overdo it. How’s work for you?”

“Yeah, okay. We’ve had a big shoot this week, I’m knackered. Been working crazy hours to catch the morning and the evening light. But I’m really pleased with some of the shots I got.”

She chats for a while about work, and I enjoy listening.

“It’s good to hear from you. Were you calling just for a catch up?” I ask when her flow begins to slow.