Just for Fun (8 page)

Like the list of all the places her wanted to lick and suck—the outer curve of her left breast, the sweet spot just below her belly button and her right hip bone. For starters. Then the list of all the positions he wanted to try out before they went back to Omaha. Then the list of all the places in the suite he wanted to make her come.

He loved that it was so easy to get her riled up. Whether it was just how she was wired or it was something chemical between the two of them, he didn’t care. He loved how easy it was to turn her on. He was more than willing to take as much time as necessary, but with the responses she was giving him, it looked like multiple orgasms were in her future.

She crossed the room to her purse, then bent to rummage for something inside her briefcase… and Dooley about swallowed his tongue.
That
was a nice view. He wanted to cross the room, grab her hips and sink deep. No foreplay, no build up, just hot and
now
.

But before he could even stand, she straightened, hung up the phone and tossed the cordless receiver onto the couch. “I have to deal with a crisis,” she said, coming toward him.

It took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. Saying she had to do something else. Especially when her attention focused on the erection that was slowly gaining rigidity.

Just having her look at him made him hard.

“What?” he asked.

“There’s a problem in Omaha. I need to head downstairs to the offices where I can get my hands on some contract copies and then get on a conference call with my department heads. The good news is some of the people I need to talk to are headquartered here.”

“When?”

“Right now.” She looked disappointed too. Damn.

“How long will it take?”

She sighed and pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Probably an hour. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He looked down at himself. “Well, it
is
your fault.” He chuckled at her look of chagrin. “But this is a work trip for you.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can and we can—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. Talking about what they could do or would do later wasn’t going to help.

Her eyes dropped to his groin again. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to—”

“Stop. Talking.” He shook his head and grabbed his pants, stepping into them even though zipping them up over his erection was going to be difficult. And potentially painful.

“But I just want you to know I planned on—”

“I know.”

“I feel bad that I got you all—”

“Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t stop talking you’re going to be late for your phone call.”

“No, I have some time.”

“It’s not enough.”

“I just have to go downstairs and get—”

He moved in, pulled her up on her tiptoes and kissed her until she melted against him, running her hands up his back and into his hair.

When he pulled back he said, “
That
is going to take another twenty minutes before we even get to the other stuff. So we don’t have enough time.”

She pressed her lips together and let him set her back on her feet. “Okay.”

“Go do your business. Then get your pretty butt back up here a.s.a.p.”

“Okay.”

He waited a moment and when she didn’t move, he turned and nudged her toward the bathroom. “Get dressed.”

“Right. Okay. Dressed.”

As she covered up her gorgeous body with clothes once again, Dooley wondered what he’d do while she was gone. He was on vacation. This wasn’t work for him. He could get a massage, watch TV, read.

Except those ideas all sucked. He wasn’t much of a sitter. He liked action. He also wasn’t much for being alone. He was used to having people around him all the time.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The woman who emerged looked all business. Still gorgeous. But all about the work.

Still, the first thing Dooley thought when he saw her was how the last time she’d been in that bathroom she’d been having phone sex with him.

“Please make yourself at home. Whatever you need, just call Beth.”

He pushed himself off the bed and padded over to her. “I don’t think so.”

“Please.” She was digging in her briefcase. “If you want something special to eat or…” Her gaze finally met his and realization dawned. “Right. Anything except
that
. That you’re saving for me.”

“Damned right.” He hauled her up and kissed her again, long and wet and hot. Satisfied to see her breathing hard when he let go, he grinned then turned her toward the suite door and patted her on the butt. “Hurry back.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, tripping toward the door.

“I’ll find something to kill the time.”

She looked a little worried when she glanced back. “Okay, but remember,” she said as she opened the door, “this carpet is white. Be careful with the Gatorade.”

The business took an hour and forty minutes to wrap up. Of course. Apparently the moment she’d stepped out of her hotel, the Mayor stepped in. He wanted to plan the stay for everyone involved in bringing Tim McGraw to Omaha. In eight months. It could have easily waited until Morgan’s return, but her assistant manager had done a poor job of reassuring him and he’d demanded to have a conference call with her, the hotel and event staff.

A long, detailed conference call.

Which she usually appreciated.

But she didn’t usually have Doug waiting up in her hotel suite.

“Ms. James?”

She had just pushed the elevator button when she heard her name. She turned to find a man in a dark suit approaching. “Yes?” She was on the second floor of the hotel where all the administrative offices were housed. They included offices for the department heads of the Chicago hotel as well as several offices for others who worked for Britton Hotels nationwide and worldwide. She’d been given one of the three large conference rooms Jonathan Britton used to meet with his Board of Directors, department heads and managers from all over.

“I’m Tim Arnet. I’m the head of security here.”

Morgan extended her hand to the man. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ms. James, because you’re a special guest here I wanted to address this with you directly rather than involve my staff and your guests.”

She frowned slightly. “My guests?” She hadn’t misheard the plural on the word.

“Yes. We’ve had a noise complaint from the east suite on the twenty-seventh floor.”

Her neighbors.

“A noise complaint?”

“Yes. The guest in the east suite is a…musician.”

Mr. Arnet seemed hesitant to share the information and she guessed the musician was rather famous and the hotel had, of course, promised to keep his identity and location under wraps.

“His schedule includes sleeping during the afternoon prior to performing at night. Apparently the gathering in your suite is disturbing him,” the man finished. “I was informed you were not in the suite and wanted to give you the chance to address the issue.”

She felt her cheeks flush. She was the one who helped take care of these things when they occurred in her hotel. She had certainly never
caused
a noise complaint. Nor did she invite people to stay who might cause a disturbance of any kind.

What the hell was Doug doing?

“I’m sorry. I will take care of it immediately,” she assured the security team leader. “Please apologize to our neighbor.”

She was scowling as she got off the elevator on the twenty-seventh floor.

She was less than satisfied with how the phone call with the Mayor of Omaha had gone. She was also worried about her assistant manager handling things while she was gone and she now barely had enough time to get ready for dinner. She was meeting Jonathan and Todd and who-knew-who-else in the dining room at seven and she wanted to be early. Now not only had she left a hot naked man in her room, but that hot naked man was causing a commotion.

Hopefully he wasn’t naked anymore at least.

There wasn’t any blaring music as she walked toward her suite and she hoped that whatever had been going on was over. But just as she fit her key card into the door she heard a loud shout of “Motherfucker!”

Morgan pushed the door to the suite open and stood staring.

There were men everywhere.

Well, that wasn’t completely accurate, she supposed. They weren’t
everywhere
. They were gathered in the living area in front of the big screen TV.

There were only six when she did a quick head count, but it looked like there had either been more of them earlier, or the six had been there for a while.

There was a huge sub sandwich on the dining table, half of it gone, lettuce and condiment packages spread all over. There were also open chip bags and beer and soda cans all over the countertops of the kitchenette. She walked over and picked up an empty wrapper. Red licorice.

Wow.

Teenage boys had taken over.

Teenage boys were only more dangerous than little boys because they had access to money. That they spent on things like junk food.

The man sitting on the arm of the chair nearest the door noticed her first. “Hey, Dooley, we got company.”

Doug pivoted from his seat in the middle of the sofa. When he saw her his mouth spread into a huge grin and he handed his game controller to the guy sitting next to him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted as he climbed over the back of the couch. “Solve all the world’s problems?”

“Um, well, Omaha’s anyway,” she told him. “What’s going on?”

He looked over his shoulder with a smile. “Mario Kart.”

“The video game?”

“Yeah!” one of the men shouted at the TV. “Suck it!”

She took a deep breath. “Doug—”

“You know what Mario Kart is?” he asked.

“Of course.” She didn’t want him to get distracted. “You’ve got to tell the guys to stop yelling. There are other people staying up here.”

“Son of a bitch!” one of them yelled. “Cocksucker!”

“Guys, tone it down,” Doug shouted with a grin. “There’s a lady here.”

There were some glances in her direction and mumbles of “sorry”.

“It’s not just about me…” She broke off, deciding she needed more explanation of the root of the problem. “Why are you playing Mario Kart? Why are there so many people here?”

How did he even know five other guys in Chicago?

“I called Beth and asked if there was any way I could get a video game. She came through. When the guys came up to bring it to me, I asked what they were doing. They were just getting off their shift and they grabbed some other guys too. We ordered some food and started playing. Then Charlie and Dave showed up from housekeeping to get the grape soda out of the carpet—”

“These guys
work
here?” she interrupted. And they’d spilled grape soda on the ecru carpet.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else in Chicago. Mario Kart’s way more fun with other people.”

“But they
work here
.” Crap, it was a good thing the security manager hadn’t come up. These guys would have been in enough trouble being in here, even without contributing to a problem with another guest.

“They’re off the clock. They’re just having some fun. I asked them to hang out until you got here.”

“Why?” She was quickly trying to figure what she would do if some of her employees were partying in a guest’s suite. That would not be good. Way too much potential for problems.

“This is Tony, Stan, Roger, Charlie and Dave. Roger’s worked here for twenty-five years. Stan’s been here for sixteen.”

“Hi, guys,” Morgan said, giving them a smile. “Very impressive.” She glanced at her watch. She needed to get ready for dinner and she wasn’t going to do it with five strange men in her suite. She looked up at Doug and corrected herself—
six
strange men in her suite. How could she keep forgetting that she didn’t really know him? She knew he wasn’t going to kill her or steal from her, she knew he didn’t have any contagious diseases and she knew he had good credit. Other than that it was all a crapshoot.

This dinner meeting was important and she didn’t want to be distracted. Or late. This was the first time she’d be seeing Mr. Britton and, more importantly, Todd since…the last time. “Doug, I need to talk to you.”

He frowned at her. “Don’t you want to chat with the guys, ask them some questions about their experience?”

“Whoo-hoo!”

“Yeah, man!”

They were still shouting but it was quieter now. As the guys were clearly into the game, Morgan took the chance to drag Doug into the bedroom. “I need to get ready for dinner. You have to get rid of them.”

“Fine.” He didn’t look pleased. “I’ll see what they’re doing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You’ll be working all day tomorrow. I can hang out with them.”

“Don’t they have to work?”

He frowned. “I’ll find out. If they do, I’ll make some new friends.”

Why couldn’t he just hang out in the room? Get a massage? Have an expensive room service lunch? “I didn’t realize I needed to arrange a babysitting service to keep you entertained.”

His frown deepened. “I’m just hanging out with some nice guys. I thought it would be good for you to have a chance to talk with some people who have worked for this company for a long time. They know some things and have some ideas that could help you out.”

“So you want
me
to hang out with them too? Can we have pizza tomorrow? Or Chinese food?”

His frown eased and he leaned back. “Sure, whatever you want.”

But she could tell he knew she wasn’t serious.

“Tell me what time you’ll be back up here tomorrow and I’ll get everything arranged,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “No. You can’t have them up here.”

“Why not?” He crossed his arms.

“They
work
here,” she said, exasperated. “They can’t be up in the suites, eating with the guests.”

“I invited them.”

“Still, it could be construed as them taking things from a guest. Which is against our policies.”

“You could learn a lot from them. They’ve worked here almost longer than you’ve been alive.”