I half expect him to come into the bathroom but he doesn't, and I'm disappointed and relieved in equal measure.
Disappointed because he is a certified hottie and sooo good with his hands, his tongue.... his cock!
Relieved because I need to think before we speak about things, ideally I'd like to read through Noah's messages and listen to his voicemails incase I need to modify what I say.
I re-enter the bedroom and find Yanni missing, a long stem yellow rose on the bed in his place with the most beautifully handwritten note. Picking it up I open the envelope and take out a small card that just says
'HOTEL BAR. 20:00 x'
I can't help but smile as I look at the stunning outfit lying on the bed.... underwear, jewellery and shoes too. I can't wait to put it all on, and totally forget about looking at the messages from Noah!
The underwear is pretty but not something I'd usually wear, and certainly not outside of my private home, but for him I will give it a whirl. It is pink, lots of straps and has no crotch!!
It takes a while to get the tiny strips of fabric in all the right places before I drape the slinky feeling blush pink and gold sequin mini dress over it, my boobs looking tremendous in the crossover wrap front, then lace up the black Louboutin heels and put the gorgeous diamond and platinum earrings in.
I'm a little concerned that the dress is so short and to all intents and purposes I'm naked beneath it, but I do feel sexy in it... he really does have great taste in women's clothes, really understands what makes a woman feel sexy, and a little dirty too...
After styling my hair into a sleek, straight curtain and applying some light natural look make up I leave the room and head downstairs to the bar, attempting to contain my nerves as other guests stare at me as I pass. I almost turn around and head back to the room to change into joggers but take a deep breath and continue on, one woman slapping her husbands arm as I pass by, the leering smirk wiped off his face which makes me chuckle.
I enter the crowded bar area and look around for a lone dark haired male but can't see him anywhere. I wonder if he's running late, so approach the bar and order an espresso martini, one of my favourites. I turn in my seat and watch the entrance, waiting for him to arrive. Once the bartender places my drink infront of me and I charge the drink to my room I feel a presence behind me and spin on my stool, a toothy smile in place, a quip about keeping me waiting on my lips, but it is not Yanni in my personal space.
"Hey sweetheart! What's a beautiful lady like yourself doing all alone?" drawls the tall, blonde and fairly handsome American man, his voice thick and smooth like warm honey. I bet that works on so many women, that slow southern drawl..... Matthew McConaughey springs to my mind. If he had been wearing a Stetson he'd have flicked the brim up and called me 'pard-ner' he was so cowboy, blue denim jeans, white shirt and a blazer. So cliché!
I take a slow breath in and smile politely, telling him that I am just waiting for my date to arrive and he says he will keep me company while I wait. It's a public bar and the stool beside me is free so I can't really stop him. The clock behind the bar shows 19:55, so it should only be five minutes maximum until Yanni arrives, so as a way to pass the time I ask him what he's doing in England.
"Here for work mostly Ma'am, but always up for a little fun along the way, if you catch my drift?" he says, placing his hand on my knee.
I immediately bristle at his touch and discreetly cross my legs giving me a few inches of much needed space. Swallowing the last of my drink I excuse myself, telling him I need to use the ladies room and that it was nice to meet him. Scanning the sea of faces in the room as I leave but still not seeing Yanni I frown, hoping he gets here soon to save me from this male 'cougar' equivalent, do they even have a name for that?!
As I reach the toilet door I am grabbed roughly from behind and shoved sideways into a dark space under the grand marble staircase. I don't scream, but a shocked gasp of air leaves my throat as my body hits the wall. Panic however sets in when a large moist hand covers my mouth and a heavy body presses me firmly, face first against the wall.
It is Mr America, the cologne bath he clearly took before coming to the bar giving him away. I attempt to speak but can't as his hand is so tightly covering my mouth, and I can't move to push him off as I'm too close to the wall. He shushes into my ear and begins pulling up the hem of my dress as I fight a wave of nausea. What the fuck is it about me that gives men the impression that they can treat me this way?!
I remember my words to Daisy as I left the prison earlier today.... 'to fight back and stop playing the role of victim'.
I have no idea where it comes from but an all consuming anger takes hold of me, I can literally feel the blood boiling in my veins and my jugular pulsing visibly in my neck. I feel panic, rage, as if I'm in danger ....
..... but also dangerous!
I explode inside! Strength I didn't realise I possessed overwhelms me and I rapidly throw my head back, connecting with his face. There is a crunching sound, followed by a cry of pain, then my head is slammed violently into the wall again.