The Hotel 2 (The Billionaire Seduction) by Lola Darling

least.
I’ve never had one of these booty-callers come directly to my
house before. But for some reason I trust this girl.
    “This is crazy…”
    “Come on. If I can make you wet with my voice, just imagine
what I can do with my hands. I can be gentle, too.”
    She laughs again. The anxiety falling away piece by piece. I know
she’s not trying to play hard to get, but I have to admit I’m
kind of enjoying the chase.
    “And what happens, exactly? We fuck, and then, bye?”
    “Put a little emphasis on the fucking part.”
    “That doesn’t sound like it would work. I’ve never
done the whole one night stand thing.”
    I bring the bottles into the kitchen and make my way back to the den,
where I settle on the couch again.
    “Call it a ‘greasy pancake fuck,’
then.”
    “A what?”
    “A ‘greasy pancake fuck.’
You’ve never heard of a ‘greasy pancake fuck’?
Don’t tell me I have to explain what a ‘greasy pancake
fuck’ is.”
    “Would you stop saying ‘greasy pancake fuck’?”
    “Sorry.”
    I let the silence hang in the air.
    “Ok,” she says, giving up. “What’s a ‘greasy
pancake fuck’?”
    “I’m glad you asked,” I say, with a smile she can
probably hear. “Well you’re single now, and soon enough
you’ll be dating again; seeing what the world has to offer
beyond that ex of yours – who sounds like a real scumbag by the
way. You’ll be meeting guys, living life, and having sex. Well,
if you come over tonight, it’ll be the ‘greasy pancake.’”
    “The ‘greasy pancake,’”
she repeats, unconvinced.
    “Right. The first pancake you make of a batch, the one that’s
just there to soak up all the grease. You’re probably angry at
your ex right now. Maybe depressed. Maybe lost. You could spend weeks
getting over him. Flicking through the photographs, reliving the
arguments in your head, throwing out the fluffy stuffed animal he
bought you for your birthday that you thought was cute but was
actually just a last-minute purchase at the gas station.”
    She laughs. “It was a keychain, actually. And some wilted
flowers.”
    “Or, you can come over here, and just fuck all of that shit
away. A big blow-out. Just let yourself loose, and cut yourself off
from the past. Mentally, emotionally.”
    “Physically,”
she adds.
    “Exactly.”
    She pauses, and I hear her inhaling deeply as she considers my
argument.
    “You make it sound pretty easy.”
    “Because it is.”
    “I barely know you though. We’ve spoken for – what,
twenty minutes?”
    I glance at my phone and realize, to my shock, it’s been almost
forty. “What’s the difference if it’s twenty days?
The only thing that happens when you wait too long is you miss out.
You’re frustrated, I’m bored – the stars are
aligned right now. And I like you.”
    “There you go with the astrology again.”
    “Like you said – it’s fate.”
    She sighs.
    “If you feel uncomfortable at any moment,” I say, “you
have my permission to kick me in the balls and run away. Just don’t
steal any of my stuff, please.”
    I wait for what feels like years until she answers again.
    “Ok. But I don’t even know what you look like.”
    “Believe me, you won’t be disappointed.”
    I give her directions to my house, and we break the call. I toss the
phone onto the table and lie there for a few moments, staring up at
the ceiling. Her voice is still echoing in my mind, that colorful
laugh, and the stuttering gasps. I’ve been called a superficial
bastard many times in my life, but if those people could see how
turned on I am right now by nothing but a disembodied voice and a
snappy wit they’d retract their statements. Ok, maybe it’s
still true, and maybe I’m still hoping she’ll be a
knockout, but frankly, even if she isn’t, I’m ready to
put in a prize-winning bedroom performance on her.
    I get up and shake my limbs like a prize fighter getting ready for
the fight of his life. My balls are aching from how fucking