guys do whatever it was they were doing with that woman. Who was she? A hooker? A stripper? An escort? How had they found her? And what were they doing with her? Were they actually having sex? What would the bride-to-be think if she knew this was going on? Or did she know?
If it were her husband-to-be in that room there’d be hell to pay. Geezus.
Sloane was far from innocent. She knew guys liked to go out and go wild for bachelor parties, one last crazy fling before they settled down, but God, having sex with another woman, no matter if it was paid for, was really quite…disturbing.
The noise was getting louder. She listened carefully for any signs the guys were…well, close to hurting the woman. Even if she was willingly having paid sex with them, she was still at risk. But there weren’t any what she would consider “sex noises”. It seemed they were having a lot of fun, even the woman giving shrieks of what sounded like delight, and then trilling a feminine laugh.
Now Sloane had second thoughts about actually going and knocking on the door and telling them to keep it down. The better plan would be to call the front desk and have them deal with it. She was just reaching for the phone when a loud banging on the door reverberated through the room.
She froze. Geezus! Was that her door?
Again she padded to the door. She peered through the peephole. Nothing.
More knocking. “Security!”
The knocking was on the door next to hers. Thank the baby deity. Someone else must have complained, saving her the trouble.
Security had to knock and call out a few more times, while silence fell in the room. Sloane leaned against the wall, imagining all the naked guys panicking, trying to get dressed. Finally someone opened the door.
Again, she couldn’t hear all the words, but the security guard from the hotel was clearly telling them they were making too much noise. The man who spoke to him in a low, deep voice sounded apologetic, and actually respectful, not drunkenly belligerent as she’d been afraid. She heard him say, “Yeah, yeah, got it. Sorry, man.”
The door closed again.
Okay. Finally. Things would quiet down now and she could get some sleep.
Back in bed, she pulled the feather duvet up under her chin and got comfy, closing her eyes. But another burst of laughter made her sigh. The male voices had quieted for a while but were gradually growing louder and louder. Oh my God. Security hadn’t helped at all.
Around four o’clock she got up again, listening. She heard the woman say something about who was going to pay her. Maybe they were done. Then the door of the adjoining room opened and closed. And opened and closed again. Okay. People were leaving that room.
Hopefully the guys were taking taxis and not drinking and driving.
Christ, why did she even care? They’d hired a hooker to come to a hotel room and do who knew what.
Finally, silence. Sloane sighed.
It was still hard to get to sleep, imagining what had been going on in that room. Was someone still in there going to sleep? The bachelor, perhaps? Or had he gone home to his unsuspecting fiancée?
Argh. She arranged her pillow again. She had to stop thinking about it.
Finally, she drifted into sleep.
Saturday morning when she awoke, she blinked bleary eyes. Blackout drapes on the windows kept out most of the June sun, but brightness around the edges told her it was already late. She turned her head on the pillow toward the clock. Crap. Nearly ten o’clock. That few hours of interrupted sleep had messed her up. Her appointment at the spa was at ten thirty. She needed to get moving.
She dragged herself out of bed, started coffee in the small coffee maker and stumbled into the bathroom. Shower. Coffee. Then she could go get pampered. Since she’d been kicked out of her condo by the contractors doing bathroom renovations, she’d been staying with her brother all week, but he’d been pretty clear that she needed to be out of his condo Friday night for his hot date. So she’d booked a night in the hotel and decided to spoil herself with a facial and mani/pedi in the elegant spa. A small indulgent reward after the crap week she’d had. After that she’d go home to her newly renovated bathroom. The contractors had promised it would be usable today, even if not completely finished.