to leave us alone for…I don’t know, the next six hours or so.”
Kayla nods. “Call me if you need me!”
And with that, she heads back towards the stairs, and I yank Travis into our room, close the door, and smack him as hard as I can on the arm.
“Fuck, what was that for?”
“That was for grabbing my ass outside the airport and telling our guide all about how I’m constantly begging to get in bed with you.”
Travis shrugs. “Sis, you’ve been telling me all week how dangerous this is, and how we need to make sure the hotel doesn’t figure out that we’re stepsiblings. I was just making sure that the hotel leaves us alone because it thinks I’m going to spend the entire trip fucking your brains out.”
I roll my eyes. I mean, it probably worked. If I was Kayla, I’d probably avoid this room as much as possible. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean we are .”
Travis is quiet for a moment, giving me a look that sends shivers up my spine. Then, he grins. “Right. We’re just going to nice, professional and productive until it’s time to go home.”
Only Travis Carter can make a sentence like that sound dirty as hell. I guess that’s why he gets the big endorsement deals.
Trying my best to ignore Travis and the prickly feeling on my skin from pretending to be his loving wife for 45 minutes, I put my suitcase in the corner and look around the suite. At first, it just looks like a really, really nice hotel suite. Soft carpets, a shiny, state-of-the-art kitchen, huge windows and a balcony…that kind of stuff. But the more I look, the more I notice the little details everywhere. The big mirrors everywhere…the huge marble bathtub in the corner of the living room, big enough for two…the way the covers are pulled back on the only bed in the suite…this whole place is designed with one thing in mind.
Travis cracks up behind me, and I turn around to see him standing over an open drawer full of condoms.
“Think this is going to be enough, Sis?”
I glare at Travis. “I mean, that’s like a daily supply for you. Maybe you should take those for your next trip to Vegas.”
Travis opens another drawer, and pulls out a glossy booklet that looks kind of like a room service menu. “Is that room service? We should order something, I’m pretty hungry.”
Travis raises his eyebrows at the booklet. “Well, uh…I guess you could call it room service. What are you hungry for?”
Travis tosses me the booklet, and I look down at it. On the cover, there’s a picture of a young, attractive couple, clearly paid supermodels, laying on a beach with the words “Make Tonight Special” written across their bodies. A little weird for a food menu, but maybe it’s also a wine list…
Oh. It’s not a food menu. My eyes get huge as I see a huge spread of naughty items, each with a code to order them from the front desk. My eyes dart back and forth between handcuffs, vibrators, paddles…
“Ew!” I close the booklet and chuck it at Travis’ feet. “Travis! Why did you even give me that?”
Travis shrugs. “You were looking at it for a pretty long time. I thought you were about to order something.”
“I was not looking at it for a long time! Is there an actual food menu in there or are they expecting us to eat each other’s tongues all trip?”
Eventually, we do find a food menu in the very back of the lowest drawer, which makes me wonder about the priorities of the last couple who stayed in here. Desperate to get my mind onto anything else, I ask Travis what he wants to eat, and we end up ordering a plate of crab cakes up to the suite.
And then, after a semi-awkward period of negotiation where I claim the bed and make Travis sleep on the couch in the living room, things are finally a little more normal. I mean, normal for me, which isn’t really normal at all. After all, I’m still on a fake honeymoon with my oversexed stepbrother, and we’re about to eat crab cakes off the floor of a luxury
Kayla nods. “Call me if you need me!”
And with that, she heads back towards the stairs, and I yank Travis into our room, close the door, and smack him as hard as I can on the arm.
“Fuck, what was that for?”
“That was for grabbing my ass outside the airport and telling our guide all about how I’m constantly begging to get in bed with you.”
Travis shrugs. “Sis, you’ve been telling me all week how dangerous this is, and how we need to make sure the hotel doesn’t figure out that we’re stepsiblings. I was just making sure that the hotel leaves us alone because it thinks I’m going to spend the entire trip fucking your brains out.”
I roll my eyes. I mean, it probably worked. If I was Kayla, I’d probably avoid this room as much as possible. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean we are .”
Travis is quiet for a moment, giving me a look that sends shivers up my spine. Then, he grins. “Right. We’re just going to nice, professional and productive until it’s time to go home.”
Only Travis Carter can make a sentence like that sound dirty as hell. I guess that’s why he gets the big endorsement deals.
Trying my best to ignore Travis and the prickly feeling on my skin from pretending to be his loving wife for 45 minutes, I put my suitcase in the corner and look around the suite. At first, it just looks like a really, really nice hotel suite. Soft carpets, a shiny, state-of-the-art kitchen, huge windows and a balcony…that kind of stuff. But the more I look, the more I notice the little details everywhere. The big mirrors everywhere…the huge marble bathtub in the corner of the living room, big enough for two…the way the covers are pulled back on the only bed in the suite…this whole place is designed with one thing in mind.
Travis cracks up behind me, and I turn around to see him standing over an open drawer full of condoms.
“Think this is going to be enough, Sis?”
I glare at Travis. “I mean, that’s like a daily supply for you. Maybe you should take those for your next trip to Vegas.”
Travis opens another drawer, and pulls out a glossy booklet that looks kind of like a room service menu. “Is that room service? We should order something, I’m pretty hungry.”
Travis raises his eyebrows at the booklet. “Well, uh…I guess you could call it room service. What are you hungry for?”
Travis tosses me the booklet, and I look down at it. On the cover, there’s a picture of a young, attractive couple, clearly paid supermodels, laying on a beach with the words “Make Tonight Special” written across their bodies. A little weird for a food menu, but maybe it’s also a wine list…
Oh. It’s not a food menu. My eyes get huge as I see a huge spread of naughty items, each with a code to order them from the front desk. My eyes dart back and forth between handcuffs, vibrators, paddles…
“Ew!” I close the booklet and chuck it at Travis’ feet. “Travis! Why did you even give me that?”
Travis shrugs. “You were looking at it for a pretty long time. I thought you were about to order something.”
“I was not looking at it for a long time! Is there an actual food menu in there or are they expecting us to eat each other’s tongues all trip?”
Eventually, we do find a food menu in the very back of the lowest drawer, which makes me wonder about the priorities of the last couple who stayed in here. Desperate to get my mind onto anything else, I ask Travis what he wants to eat, and we end up ordering a plate of crab cakes up to the suite.
And then, after a semi-awkward period of negotiation where I claim the bed and make Travis sleep on the couch in the living room, things are finally a little more normal. I mean, normal for me, which isn’t really normal at all. After all, I’m still on a fake honeymoon with my oversexed stepbrother, and we’re about to eat crab cakes off the floor of a luxury
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