Collecting a room key from the front desk is much easier than getting the room number from Erin. I purposely seek out a young male clerk, then coyly tell him I’m David’s girlfriend. “Trying to surprise him,” I say with a wink. I know enough details that the front desk guy buys it. Flashing him a bit of my bustier under the long black leather coat doesn’t hurt either. The man can see that sexy underwear is all I have on underneath.

David hasn’t come back from dinner yet, but that doesn’t surprise me. Those types of things can go a bit late, although I’m certain this one’ll end before ten. The West Coast marketing team lead always goes to bed by eleven thirty sharp, according to my sources in the San Mateo office.

It’s good to be friendly with the locals.

David’s suite is amazing. I let the door close behind me with a soft click and look around. The whole place has hardwood flooring, with a thick rug in front of a fireplace. The living room has two vases with fresh flowers and a seasonal fruit basket. A stiff white card next to it reads, “With our compliments.” Perfect. We can feed each other orange slices afterward. I’m sure we’ll be parched and tired. The night is long, and we’ll need to keep our strength up.

I eye the white baby grand. I don’t play. Does David? He never mentioned it on social media, so maybe not. Doesn’t mean we can’t use the instrument, though. Do unspeakable things on it. I’m sure we’ll be hotter than Richard Gere and Julia Roberts. Should I pose on top and wait for him to come in? With my black outfit, I’d look amazing on the shiny black expanse. Sammi on the Steinway.

On the other hand, maybe we should save that for later. Like when we’re tired of doing it in bed.

I take off my coat, drape it over a high-backed chair in front of a desk, and make my way toward the bedroom. Housekeeping has thoughtfully done the turndown service and left a small golden box of chocolates. I give it a small shake. Probably four pieces inside. Great. They should go well with the post-coital orange slices.

I smile as I place the box of sex toys on the nightstand and climb on top of the bed. After a brief internal debate, I decide to leave the room’s lights on. Men are visual creatures. And I’m definitely keeping these shoes on—classy fuck-me heels are a huge aphrodisiac. But maybe posing spread out on my back isn’t the best. After all, my breasts aren’t the most bountiful of my assets. I purse my lips. On the other hand, I don’t want to be waiting around on my hands and knees with my spine arched and ass in the air until he shows. That look is sort of stupid without a guy around to appreciate it. Isn’t the most comfortable, either.

Finally, I settle for lying on my stomach, knees bent and heels waving slowly in the air. I can pretend to be examining the box of toys, while facing the windows, my body angled so that my legs and ass are the first thing he’ll see coming through the door. What guy wouldn’t be interested?

I smother a triumphant laugh. This is how I feel when I hit compile on fully debugged code… No. Not quite. This particular euphoria is way better. It’s…sublime. Anticipatory. As I run a finger along the never-been-used vibrator, my clit throbs as though it’s David’s very own finger down there running along my…

God. I clench my thighs. I hope the dinner ends soon, because I don’t want to use the toys without him, but thinking about what he’s going to do to me is—

A low, appreciative whistle comes from the doorway.

Yes!

I paste on a coy, seductive smile, one I’ve been practicing for days. A masculine “Hello, beautiful” follows the whist—

What the hell?

Everything inside me freezes. The voice isn’t David’s—it’s deeper and slightly more gravelly.

Shit! I scramble to get up, jumping off the bed. My stupid heels slip on the wooden floor, and I land on my ass with a thud. Ow, ow, ow! I stay unmoving for a few seconds, momentarily stunned.

But my butt pain is nothing compared to the shock of seeing a total stranger watching me with a small smile tugging at his mouth.

I blink up at him, my bare ass still on the floor. He doesn’t vanish.

Could this get any worse?

Yes, my mind whispers. The guy could be an erectile dysfunction lecher testing out his first Viagra prescription.

Whatever. He isn’t David…even though he’s tall and has dark brown hair and gray eyes like the love of my life.

The stranger is in a navy suit. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the bench by the foot of the bed. The pristine white dress shirt looks freshly starched, and he pulls at his burgundy tie, undoing the knot. His clothes are expensively tailored to show off the lines of his wide shoulders and narrow hips. His torso is much thicker and more muscular than David’s. The stranger’s thighs are exceptionally developed as well, much to my chagrin, because it would really be better if he had bird legs. Men with scrawny legs can be easily dismissed. What kind of person exercises only half their body anyway?

And his hands… They’re huge, but don’t look like bear paws. The fingers are long and strong, like a pianist’s. They look capable—exactly the kind of hands I find ideal. And watching them move is mesmerizing…

He undoes his tie and tosses it down on the jacket, the burgundy startling against the cream-colored cushion and the navy of his clothes. The sight jolts me, and I suddenly realize I shouldn’t be admiring his hands. I’m alone in a hotel room with a strange man.

Wearing lingerie.

I push myself to my feet. There’s something undignified about sitting on my ass while he’s standing over me and casually getting undressed. Not that standing makes things any better. It only serves to highlight how small I am compared to him. Except being able to tower over him probably wouldn’t make a particle of difference; humiliation is blazing through my body, heating every cell. Sweat mists over my skin, but it isn’t enough to cool me. As a matter of fact, I’m so hot, I feel like I’m about to explode into a fireball.

“Who are you?” I squeak out. I haven’t seen him in the San Mateo office or at any of the meetings or dinners…

“Luke. You?”

“Where’s David? What have you done with him?”

“Nothing. He probably went to my room.”

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“He didn’t like this one.”

“He should’ve asked the front desk to switch him.” So Erin could’ve given me the right room. Or at least the front desk could’ve guided me to the right place.

Luke gives me a small smirk. “He didn’t want to.”

He’s still getting undressed. He undoes his top two shirt buttons, revealing a strong, corded neck. The sight is distracting, which makes him extra irritating. And I’m further humiliated that I’m even noticing anything attractive about him. I’m not here for him. I’m here for David.

“But does it matter? I’m happy to pay instead.”

His words register. Pay? I blink at him, then my brain gets caught up. I inhale sharply. “You wish!”

“Apparently, so do you.” He cocks an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the open box of toys.

Oh my God, just kill me now. My face heats so much, so fast, I feel like the top of my head is about to fly off. I’d give up feeling anything in my nipples if a UFO would just beam me up right now. An alien anal probe would be less mortifying than this. I slap the lid down on the box. “They aren’t for you!” I meant to say that with righteous anger, but it comes out huffy and embarrassed instead.

“But they could be. I can up the rate…”

I pray for patience and sanity. If this man continues, I’m going to murder him and not bother to dispose of the body. There are lawyers I can call. “You think I’m going to sleep with you?”

“Kind of looks like it, yeah.” He slowly eye-fucks me from head to toe and back. The dark intensity of his gaze makes me squirm, because it’s exactly the look I wanted from David tonight. If I have to be honest—which I really, seriously, legit don’t want to be—I’m even a little wet. Argh. What’s wrong with me?

Then I remember. I was fantasizing about David earlier. Must be the residue from that…not this guy who’s trying to buy me.

“You wish!” I say again, since I can’t think of any other snappy comeback. I’m usually sharper, but this…stranger is throwing me off.

I snatch the box from the bed. I need to get out of here, but the only way I can leave is the door, which he’s blocking, and…

I wet my dry lips. The door’s something I have to get past. And I’m not going to slink away like I’ve done something wrong. I’ll be damned if I’ll let him know how embarrassed I am.

I tilt my chin up and start marching. When he doesn’t move out of the way, I give him a pointed look. He stares back at me, and I stiffen my back, refusing to retreat. It takes all my willpower, because I’d rather jump out the window and hope for the best, never mind that we’re on the fifteenth floor.

With an amused smile, he finally takes a small step to the side, but not enough that I can maneuver around him without us touching.

Pig.

My arm brushes his. I can feel his body heat through his shirt and get a faint whiff of some aftershave…and a tiny bit of spark where our bodies connect. All the moisture evaporates from my mouth as my skin tingles.

Probably static electricity. He ought to use some fabric softener.

Back out in the main room, I yank my coat roughly off the chair. It gets caught, and the chair topples over. I debate righting it—I should right it—but I can feel the weight of Luke’s gaze on my ass, so I just walk out. It’s only after pressing the call button for the elevator that I juggle the box of toys and shrug into the coat. No need to flash everyone in San Mateo.

Once I’m back in my rental, I grip the steering wheel and bang my head against my knuckles a few times. I don’t know why Luke and David decided to switch rooms, but what just happened proves one thing:

Evil does exist. And right now, Good is down by one.