stares at me. “Mya, you’ve had an orgasm before, haven’t you?”
Now we’ve crossed the line from inappropriate to just straight-up embarrassing.
“Of course, I have. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He still looks disturbed, but at least he’s no longer looking at me like some kind of space alien, which is why I have no idea what possesses me to say what I do next.
“Just not while anyone else is there,” I mumble softly.
“Fuck me!” he explodes before whirling around to blink at me in disbelief. His mouth opens and closes several times before he makes a strangled growling sound that has me going instantly wet. “Fucking hell.”
“Fucking isn’t the problem,” I snap, mortification at what I’ve admitted starting to sink in.
Of all the people I could have confided in, why would I tell Milo? For years it’s been my secret shame and the real reason my ex didn’t want to “settle” with me. I’ve read every Cosmo article, tried yoga and hypnosis and even those weird-ass positions in the illustrated Kama Sutra I ordered online. William was offended when I suggested using a vibrator in bed, and he didn’t even seem to like when I touched myself.
Maybe that was the problem. It all felt like work instead of fun. And right now, it just feels like one more way I don’t measure up. Especially with the way Milo is looking at me.
“You know what? I’m done talking about this. It’s been a long night, and we’re probably both going to be out of a job tomorrow once James sobers up and comes to his senses. So for now, I’m going to my room to get comfortable.”
He springs forward and grabs my arm. “Wait, Mya. I’m serious about not leaving yet. I’m pretty sure Christiane is staying on this floor. And she seems predisposed to hate us anyway.”
Fed up with being told what to do, I reach behind me and unzip my dress. “I need to get out of this bra before it cuts off my circulation.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting to see what he’ll do.
But he shocks the hell out of me when he calls my bluff. Milo grabs one of the discarded dress shirts from the bed and hands it to me. “Change into this. You can order room service and relax just as easily here as you can in your room.”
Clearly, like most men, Milo has no idea what relaxation means for a woman. But I’m just embarrassed and exhausted enough not to care anymore. So I take the shirt and escape into the safe haven of the bathroom. Once the door is closed and locked behind me, I meet my own eyes in the mirror. That was the most ridiculous conversation, but strangely cathartic, too. Maybe I just needed to tell someone, and Milo happened to be the unlucky bystander when it all came bursting forth.
Not that he should have acted like it was such a bother to him. I’m the one who’s been sexually frustrated for years, after all. If anyone has cause to be annoyed by the situation, it’s me.
The bathrooms in this hotel come stocked with all manner of toiletries, so I use the mini facial bar to wash my makeup off. There’s a small hook on the back of the door, so I use that to hang my dress by the straps and put on the shirt Milo gave me. It’s a good thing he’s so tall or there would be no way this thing would fit over my chest, but it’s just big enough. Although I have to unbutton quite a bit at the top so I don’t feel like my boobs are being strangled.
After pulling the pins out of my bun, I finger comb my hair down around my face. It’s super thick, so it’s easier to keep it braided or in a bun, but when I’m relaxing, I just let it go wild. Milo will just have to deal. He’s the one who wouldn’t let me leave, so if he doesn’t like it, he can bite me.
The man looked like he wanted to bite you anyway.
With that thought, I yank open the bathroom door and march back out into the room. Milo looks up from the mini bar where he’s selected a small bottle. His mouth falls open slightly before he clears his throat and looks away, guiltily.
“Want a drink?”
“Uh, sure.”
“We have scotch, some dubious-looking wine, and vodka.”
I shrug. “Alcohol. Anything that can make me forget the past