In the Hotel

He holds the door for me as I climb into the car. I shouldn't let him. Even though the meeting had gone well I couldn't help but wish I'd gone back to my own motel room. He was my boss. It screamed inappropriate to go back to his hotel and yet, I sat in the car as he drove. I watched him, handling the car with ease, his tie still in perfect place and it made me angry. How could he act so perfect when he made suggestions such as this? We're both men but he acts like it's no big deal. What would the women at the office say if they found out?

"Are you going to come up or stay in the car all night?"

I hate when he talks down to me but tonight his tone makes me nervous. I follow him up to his room letting him close the door even though I knew I shouldn't be there.

"Chinese food okay?" He pulls off his tie, putting it on the back of a blue chair before picking up the phone. But he doesn't bother waiting for me to respond before he dials. Typical of him. Offer a question but not really expect an answer because he makes all the decisions.

I watch him. He is attractive, for a man. I could see why the women at the office would often talk about him with his muscular build, dark hair and almost perfect shape to his face. His eyes were green and even though they had the look of someone who was overworked, they still were strong when they returned my gaze. I feel embarrassed for staring and look away. I can't help but talk out loud to myself, "What am I doing here?"

He moved closer to me until he stood in front, forcing me to back up against the wall to try and keep some sensible distance between us. When his hand grabbed my tie, he had me exactly where he wanted. "You want this as much as I do."

His words, they can't be right. Why would I want this? But why am I not stopping him either? I should be able to say no and leave, but I don't. I let him kiss me, his tongue slipping into my mouth in a matter of seconds. I don't even try to put up a fight when his hands start to pull at my shirt. It feels good. His lips, his touch, it all makes me feel good. Every spot he touches becomes warm and I let him take me.



I don't move when there is a knock on the door. He handles it, at least putting his pants back on before going to get what ended up being the Chinese food he had ordered. He brings the food to the bed for me. I can't think about the things I let him do, so I pick one of the cartons of noodles and eat even though I'm not hungry.

Instead of sitting in his own spot, he comes up on the bed behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and lets his chin settle onto my shoulder. He used his free hand to get some noodles from the container. Then I feel his lips against my neck again and the echo of his voice before his lips find my ear. "Is this good?"

I'm not sure if he means the food or himself but neither need a reply. I can't admit it out loud, not yet. I know I'm not supposed to feel this way. I should just shrug off the event, what we did together. Consider it a mistake or a giving in to urges but I can't. The warmth of his body against my back won't let me. My heart won't let me.