Wolf Bait (Wolf Cove #1) (7 page)

Chapter Six

“Why would you want to work outside? It’s so dirty,” Tillie mumbles as we walk through the main lodge toward the reception desk, the vaulted timber ceiling towering several stories above us. Her pretty face scrunches up, and I notice for the first time the flecks of brown in her otherwise crystal-blue eyes.

“And wiping urine off toilet seats isn’t? How about ‘disposing of used condoms with discretion’?” I air-quote Paige’s exact words with my fingers. The past two hours have been focused on how important it is for guests to know that the staff is discreet. That we will see all kinds of things in these rooms—high-end clientele or not—that may make us take a second glance. We’re not to do that. We’re to keep our mouths shut, tidy up their rooms, hide the dildos we find in the soiled bedding in the nightstand, and offer the guests nothing more than a polite, nonjudgmental nod should we pass them in the hallway.

Tillie waggles her brows. “I don’t know. There’s something sinful about being in a stranger’s private space.”

“Well, I’ll let you be sinful while I tend to the hostas and lavender in the front garden.” I already took inventory of them on my way in. Professional landscaping mats and mulch will ensure that the weeds are kept to a minimum, but I’m sure there’s something that can be done.

“I guess you’ll find plenty of entertainment with your coworkers. It’s a male-dominated group. Connor sure seemed to take to you.”

I snort. “Maybe I can get drunk and hit on him, too.”

“So is that what you did? You hit on someone?”

I shake my head. I’ve already said too much.

“You’re gonna have to spill it some time. Either way, it’ll get out. You can’t keep anything quiet in a place like this, trust me.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” I mutter, more to myself.

Tillie’s infectious giggle carries through the lobby, catching several glances. Including Belinda’s, who’s now behind the desk. I practically run toward her. She has swapped her tight black dress for a red one with a plunging neckline. I try not to look at her breasts when I talk, but they’re large and distracting and, I’m pretty sure, not real. “Hey, Belinda.”

She stares blankly at me.

“It’s me. Abbi Mitchell. You said you were going to look into the mix-up with my position.”

“Right.” She offers me her trademark forced smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I need you in Housekeeping. We’re short staffed. If something changes, I’ll make sure to move you over right away.”

As rude as it is, I sigh with frustration. “But I was hired for an outdoor position. Is there
nothing
you can do?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. With us opening in two days, we can’t be short on housekeeping staff.”

Should I remind her that I have zero experience with housekeeping? Or will that guarantee me a ride back to Homer, never to return again?

“Is there a problem?”

My stomach drops at the sound of his voice from behind me. Fingers take hold of my elbow and squeeze gently. Forcing myself to turn, I take a deep, shaky breath and look into those crystal-blue eyes as my pulse begins to throb in my throat. Eyes so light, they’re mesmerizing. And framed by the longest, thickest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man. I never felt their full impact last night. Now, they make my legs turn to Jell-O. He’s not giving anything away though. What he thinks of me, of my drunken stupor, of me trying to kiss him.

His steely mask hides it all.

And yet he makes my knees wobble, all the same.

I give him a small, embarrassed smile. “It’s just that I applied for outdoor work and I’ve been assigned to Housekeeping.”

“And you’re unwilling to work in Housekeeping?” There’s a sharp edge in his voice.

“No. I mean...” Remembering his words from earlier, I’m quick to correct. “I was hired for outdoor work and would be much better suited for it, is all. I’m afraid I won’t meet your standards.”

His flawless eyebrows arch with surprise. “Outdoor work here is pretty tough.”

“I know. But I can handle it.”

He turns to Belinda. “How did a mistake like that happen?”

“I can’t for the life of me figure it out.” Does this reflect badly on her? If it does, she shouldn’t be glaring at him like that.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself, his tongue running along the bottom of his lip as if in thought. And I’m hit with the memory of my fingers sliding across them last night. Of my
tongue
sliding across them.

Oh, God, I am truly never drinking again!

“They’re preparing the rooms for arrival tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes,” Belinda says. “All the last-minute dusting, care packages, making sure everything’s perfect.”

“I’m not sure how the hiring team made this mistake, but it’s hardly fair that you flew all the way here and we screwed up your position.” He pauses, his gaze flickering down the length of me ever so briefly, so fast that I may have imagined it. Still, between that and my spotty memories of last night, of what I said to him with my mouth pressed up against his ear, I’m now struggling to breathe.

He heaves a sigh. “Come to the main gates at 7:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow and someone will see to it that you get some outdoor hours in. You might find that you’ll change your mind about housekeeping. Belinda, please ensure Paige knows that Abbi won’t be joining in until the afternoon.”

Great. He remembers my name.

“Certainly.” Belinda’s eyes haven’t left his face the entire time. How did she get appointed hotel manager? She clearly isn’t the right person to enforce a business-attire dress code.

His heavy gaze settles on me. “Does that work for you?”

My head bobs up and down. “Yes. Thank you, so much. I appreciate it.
Mr. Wolf
.”

A glimmer of mischief briefly dances across his face and then vanishes. “We’ll see.”

I hold my breath as he strolls away, heading for the elevators.

With a quick nod toward Belinda, who is now glaring daggers at me, I spin on my heels and head back toward the training session, Tillie hot on my heels.

“What was that all about?” she hisses.

“I’m not sure. But I think he’s trying to help me get a job in Outdoor.”

“Oh. My. Lord. That man is somethin’ else,” she hisses.

I release the lung’s worth of air. “Yes, he is. He seems nice enough, at least.” I asked him if he thought I was pretty.
Ugh
! He avoided answering that, which is answer enough.

“What I’d do to be assigned to his room,” she purrs. “I’d crawl through his sheets and—”

“He’s our boss!”

“Hell, like you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t! You’re not allowed to, anyway! Didn’t you read the policy handbook?”

She snorts. “There ain’t nothin’ about getting off in the boss’s sheets.”

I flush at the thought.

“Well, it’s not like either of us is gonna get the chance. Guys like him stay for the opening and then hop in their helicopter and jet off to bigger and better things. He’ll be gone in a few days.”

I glance over my shoulder in time to see him pressing the Up elevator button, his suit hugging his muscular frame in all the right places. He seems oblivious or indifferent to Rachel and another girl ogling him from behind the bar, where they’re setting up bottles of alcohol.

“Really? I figured he’d stay. It sounded like this place was special to him.” The thought of him leaving so soon disappoints me. Not that it matters in my little world. As much as I’d love to believe otherwise, a guy like that has no interest in a twenty-one-year-old farm girl from Pennsylvania. Especially one who threw herself at him in a drunken mess.

Still, he sure is something to look at.

“All these guys love gettin’ up in front of the staff and telling them how vital they are. I swear, it’s like it’s in an owner manual. It don’t mean nothin’.” She pauses. “Then again, you know what I heard? That he personally reviewed each and every video interview made and gave the final approval for hiring. So maybe I’m wrong and he will stay.”

“That can’t be true.” A guy like that couldn’t be bothered when he has a hiring team to do that.

She shrugs. “If it is true, then he must love control. Maybe that extends into the bedroom.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I don’t understand what that means, but I smile at her anyway.

“Come on.” Tillie loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go learn about folding towels and checking for bedbugs.”

I groan.

Chapter Seven

I’m pretty predictable when it comes to sleep. Every night around 3:00 a.m. I’ll wake up, lying on my stomach, hugging my pillow. I’ve done this for as long as I can remember, even when I’m alone in my room, even in dead silence.

Last night was the exception. Tonight, it seems I’m back on schedule. I lie in bed, listening for the shallow breathing of five other women, hoping that’ll lull me back to sleep.

At first, I’m not entirely sure what I’m hearing. I know it’s coming from Katie and Rachel’s bunk, which runs perpendicular to ours. It’s set slightly behind ours, and so close that if both Katie and I stretched arms out, we could touch fingertips.

The curtains on the windows dim the cabin well, but they don’t completely block the lights shining in from outside. The privacy curtain helps with that. Only, Autumn and my curtain isn’t long enough, and there’s a gap near my head.

Tonight, Katie and Rachel haven’t pulled their curtain all the way around, and the light glows over the end of the bottom bunk.

It takes a few blinks for my eyes to adjust to being awake, and to process what I see.

A naked woman is bent over Katie’s pillow.

Her thighs are straddling Katie’s face, and Katie’s short-manicured hands are gripping either side of the woman’s slender hips. And Katie is sliding her tongue along the slit of the woman’s private parts.

I fight the gasp as my mouth drops and my eyes pop wide.

Another voice whispers through a pant, “Oh my God, I’ve missed this. Don’t stop...” and I immediately recognize Rachel, earning my second wave of shock. I knew the two of them were from the same hometown and came here as friends, but I hadn’t expected
this
! Wasn’t Rachel ogling Mr. Wolf only hours ago?

“Like this?” Katie purrs, reaching around to spread Rachel’s lips with two fingers, until I have a good view of Rachel’s entire core, soft and pink and glistening.

“Yes,” Rachel moans.

Katie shushes her with a giggle, followed by a soft moan of her own. “I’m going to come fast if you keep doing that.”

I know I should close my eyes and give them their privacy and yet I don’t move, because part of me is curious. So I lie dead still and watch them pleasure each other, wondering what it would feel like to have someone’s tongue on me like that.

Is anyone else awake? They wouldn’t be able to see this, not like I can. Well, maybe Autumn, but I hear her soft snore above us.

I purse my lips together and watch as Katie alternates between sticking her tongue into Rachel’s opening and sucking on her clit, which Rachel seems to enjoy because she angles her pelvis to give Katie more.

“Give me that ass,” Katie whispers and my mouth drops open again as Rachel adjusts her body, rolling her hips until her backside dips down within reach. Katie swipes at the tight puckered part with her tongue, long and slow, then twirls the tip of her tongue around the hole. I clench my own ass every time she does that, shock flowing through me.

“Here. Use my plug.” A hand with a clear, beaded pointy object about three inches long appears.

Katie giggles as she takes it. “You sure? You have a hard time being quiet when we use this.”

“Please,” Rachel begs, and Katie shushes her.

Katie slides two fingers into Rachel, pumping them in and out several times, until they come out glistening. She smooths them over Rachel’s crack, until the entire area is slick. Rachel’s asshole puckers in anticipation.

“Not yet, you greedy—” Katie’s words drift as she begins panting and wriggling. The curtain shifts, something poking the inside of it. Her knee, I’m guessing. She’s spreading her legs wide.

I should feel guilty or dirty about spying on them, but I don’t. In fact, I can’t help the heaviness in my pelvis, the moisture pooling inside my panties, the urge to spread my own legs.

I’m aroused.

Oh my God. Does this mean I’m a lesbian?

Katie’s mouth moves back to Rachel’s clit and she begins probing her asshole with her moistened thumb, twisting and turning until she passes the first knuckle. Leaving it there, she slides the thing Rachel called a plug into Rachel’s pussy, pumping it in and out a few times, until it’s slick.

She pulls her thumb out and, lining up the tip of the plug, she whispers, “Relax,” and then slowly pushes it in, until each ring disappears and there’s nothing left but the circular end. Rachel’s muscles tense around it.

Mine tense with her.

Why would someone do that? Does it actually feel good?

The toy seems to propel them to another level. Katie’s fingers find their way into Rachel once again, only she doesn’t stop at two, inserting all four into her cavity. She pumps her hand in and out while her tongue works on Rachel’s sensitive nub, until long threads of cum drip from Rachel’s opening and the pungent smell of her arousal reaches my nostrils.

A phone suddenly appears. Katie pushes a few buttons and the screen lights up, and anything hidden from my view is now lit for me, right down to the goose bumps on Rachel’s slick flesh.

She’s selfie-videotaping this.

Oh my God.

Katie pauses to pant a few times. “Deeper,” she whispers, and my thighs squeeze in response to whatever Rachel may be doing on the other end.

And then Katie wraps her free hand around Rachel’s thigh and presses her face into Rachel’s mound to muffle her cries of ecstasy. At the same time, I hear Rachel’s stifled cry and then her body begins to quiver.

A few moments of silence pass before Katie’s head settles back on her pillow. With the camera still on and held close, she grasps the end of the plug and slowly pulls it out to the sound of Rachel’s sigh. With that done, she shuts the camera off, and Rachel’s lithe body begins to climb backward, over the end of the bed, off Katie.

I close my eyes, afraid of getting caught and painted the peeping Tom.

“I needed that,” Rachel whispers, followed by a soft, “Good night.” I sense movement right beside my head and then the ladder creaks.

Soon, all is quiet again.

Except now I’m wide awake and mildly traumatized by the private sexual act I watched. Of all people to witness it... Would they be angry with me if they knew I had watched? Embarrassed? I’m guessing not, if they’d risk doing it in the first place. That eases my guilt a bit.

I’m afraid to move yet, so I stay still, replaying what I saw in my head. I guess it’s the same thing that a guy would do to a woman. I can’t imagine having a man’s face down there like that.

A man like Henry Wolf, with that strong, square jaw grazing against the soft skin of my inner thigh. Try as I might, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head all day. Would he even do something like that? Or would he find it unappealing? Would I ever be confident enough to allow it? Jed said the idea of putting his mouth on any holes involved in defecating didn’t appeal to him. I’m betting that has changed.

It’s now 4:00 a.m. Soft, shallow breaths surround me, and I have a terrible throb between my legs that isn’t going away. As quietly as I can, I roll onto my back and slide my fingertips beneath the drawstring of my pants, hesitant to do this in a room with five other women, even if they’re all asleep. Sure, the curtain and my blankets hide it, but still...

I gingerly draw my index finger through my slit. It comes out slick. I bite my lip. And do it again. And again. And then I begin to flick my clit like I watched Katie do with her tongue, and it makes me wetter.

I haven’t done this in months, since before I caught Jed cheating on me. I haven’t had the urge, too heartbroken.

The more aroused I get, the braver I become, until I’m no longer so worried about getting caught. In fact, the idea of Katie or Rachel watching me do this spurs me on because I think they’d like it. I push my pajama pants down and spread my legs farther. I’m still under my blanket as I do this, and I’m being quiet. No one will know.

Should I even care? Autumn brought a dildo with her, and I just watched my two roommates eat each other out and stick a plug up their ass only three feet away!

I close my eyes and slowly, gently, back and forth, rub the sensitive nub of flesh, reveling in how soft it is. How good this feels. Like my body has been begging me to do it for years.

I struggle to keep quiet as my heart rate begins to race. I close my eyes and imagine it’s not my hand doing this. It’s Henry Wolf’s hand. His big, strong, manicured hands would probably know how to do it well.

Or his tongue.

The slow build that’s been growing in my pelvis now rushes, pushing my legs farther apart, until my covers have fallen away and the cool air touches my bare skin, and I don’t even care that I’m exposed within my little cubbyhole.

I close my eyes and imagine myself like Rachel was, bent over Mr. Wolf’s face while his tongue and his fingers plunge into me. A rush hits me and I have to press my lips together to keep from crying out as my muscles pulse beneath my fingertips.

Not until it’s over do I fully comprehend what just happened.

I brought myself to orgasm thinking of my boss.