Heartless Hunk - Ann Omasta Page 0,14

his head.

I pulled out my credit card and slapped it onto the counter, but Oliver brushed it aside. “I’ve got it.”

“Fine,” I snapped, snatching back my card. “I’ll be outside making a phone call.”

I whirled around and stalked towards the door. When I muttered under my breath, “I have a friend to murder,” I heard both men chuckle.

Ignoring them, I stomped outside. The cool, brisk breeze assaulted my face when I stepped outside the door. I’d forgotten how much I loved simply breathing in the fresh Maine air.

After taking a deep, calming breath, I stabbed the button to call Soraya.

“Having fun?” She answered the phone breezily.

“I can’t believe you,” I seethed. “Why would you only book us one room?”

Soraya feigned innocence. “I thought having a hot fling with one of the sexiest men around was the main point of this trip.”

“No,” I seethed, before accusing, “And you knew that.”

“Well, you’re there and both of you are attractive and available. Just go with the flow and see what happens,” she suggested.

“I’m not exactly a ‘go with the flow’ kind of person,” I reminded her.

Soraya only pondered that for a moment before saying, “You might surprise yourself. And, Vi, you may find that cutting loose with Oliver this weekend is exactly what you need.”

I knew she was right. It was worth a shot, but I had already sabotaged myself. “Except I can’t do that because I purposely only brought white cotton granny-panties with me.”

Soraya laughed. “That was your grand plan to keep yourself from sleeping with him?”

I didn’t appreciate her openly making fun of my scheme. Defending the decision, I said, “Well, it’s going to work. I can’t let him see those. They are boner-killers.”

“Honey, nothing you could wear would be a boner-killer. You are so drop-dead gorgeous and naturally sexy that you could arouse Oliver even if you were wearing a plastic garbage bag.”

I appreciated her vote of confidence, but doubted its accuracy. “You haven’t seen the underwear in question. They are truly hideous.”

“Hmm.” Soraya thought for a moment before saying, “I have two potential solutions for you.”

I waited patiently to see how she would suggest I get out of this predicament.

“When the clothes start flying, you can pull off your pants and undies together, so that he never catches a glimpse of your dowdy undergarment, or––,” she paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “My personal favorite solution would be for you to slip into the bathroom and remove your undies.”

“You want me to go commando?” My shrill tone sounded even more scandalized than I felt.

The shuffling noise behind me caught my attention, and it was only then that I realized Oliver had rejoined me outside.

“Mm-hmm,” Soraya purred, since she couldn’t see my horrified expression over having been caught making such a provocative statement.

“I have to go,” I said before pushing the button to disconnect from the call with my friend.

I could tell by the wide-eyed expression Oliver was giving me that he had heard what I said. It was obvious that he was trying to ease the thick sexual tension between us when he held up the classic metal room key and said, “All set. Shall we?”

Nodding, I silently followed him to the car to retrieve our luggage. Staring at the ground, I couldn’t seem to wipe the naughty grin off my face.

This night was bound to be interesting.

14

Oliver

I tried to walk casually, but my mind was whirling with mental images of Violet wearing no panties under her black leggings. Sliding her pants down and finding her completely bare, wet, and ready for me would be an absolute dream come true.

Her curvy hips sashayed from side to side as I followed her down the inn’s short hallway to our room. She was easily the sexiest woman in the entire world, but miraculously, she didn’t seem to have any idea that was the case.

Our room had a homey feel and looked very little like the sterile hotel rooms I was used to seeing. The focal point of the room was a beautiful stone fireplace. There was a handmade quilt spread neatly across the bed, the artwork featured local lighthouses, and the bedside tables held lamps with colorful stained-glass light shades. There wasn’t a fluorescent light or fake-wood desk in sight.

When Violet took her overnight bag into the bathroom, I poked around the room in a failed attempt to calm my jitters. Just when I was becoming convinced that there wasn’t even a television in the room, I opened the large oak