The doorman smiles a greeting and holds open the door for her. Inside, she stares a moment at the double fronted sweeping staircase, the ornate marble detailing and the huge chandelier, before she makes her way to the reception desk. It’s an incredible place, in some ways even more elegant than her own temporary residence in New York. This is typical Dante. Even before asking, she knows he’s staying here. At least he hasn’t lied to her about that.
The gentleman on reception is more than happy to help. He knows Dante well, having been a regular customer of theirs for over two years. He is, Sash is reliably informed, staying in the most expensive suite in the hotel, the aptly named Emperor’s Chamber, and, more importantly, he is currently up in his room.
He is about to call Dante to inform him a guest has arrived, but Sash is quick to stop him.
“It’s a secret”, she says, nerves straining her voice. “He doesn’t know I’m coming and I want to surprise him.”
The receptionist knows the value of the game immediately. He’s seen many pretty girls come and go over his years here, some of whom have required complete anonymity.
“The bell-boy will take you to his door”, he says with a smile.
There is a palpable silence between them as the elevator climbs almost to the roof, a special key inserted to give them the necessary access. The whole of the top floor of the hotel has been given over to the room Dante is staying in, so only one door looks out to the corridor. The bell-boy carries her bag to the door, waits patiently for a tip and then silently enters the elevator again.
Sash watches him go. When she is sure he is completely out of earshot, she stands in front of the apartment door and composes herself. She’s fifteen again on the first day she saw him. She’s eighteen again and in her bedroom dancing. She’s in his office, three years later, standing in front of the huge wooden doors, her heart racing. She’s hot and cold, and full of anxiety. She’s here now and Dante’s on the other side of the door. Her stepbrother. Her aching need. Her one true love. With her breath held, Sash raises her fist and knocks on the door.
Chapter 7
The wait is agonizing. Her heart won’t stop thumping. Finally, after what seems like a million years, she hears footsteps approaching the door, and then watches as the door slowly swings open. What is she going to say? How is she going to explain her sudden and unexpected arrival? The words are like a jumble of nonsense in her head and she can’t think straight for the nerves.
And then, as though he’s not been gone more than a minute, she sees him. Wide smile, stormy eyes, a true representation of perfection. There is a moment that passes. A moment in which neither of them say a thing. A moment in which Sash feels a mix of emotions rushing to her all at once.
“Sash”, Dante says. When she can’t hold herself back any longer, she drops her bag and throws herself at him.
“I couldn’t wait, I’m sorry”, Sash says, hugging herself into him and burying her head into the crook of his neck. “I know you said to wait, but I couldn’t. I missed you, Dante, I missed you so much.”
Dante brings her into the room and shuts the door behind her. He lifts her head away and plants a firm kiss on her lips. Sash studies the storm in his eyes and then rests her head again on his chest.
“Are you mad?” she asks.
“Do you trust me?” Dante asks.
“Yes”, Sash says. “I miss you, Dante. I’ve been going mad without you. Why haven’t you come home?”
He ignores the question. “Come on, I want to show you something”, he says.
Sash peels herself away from his chest, and takes his hand. She hadn’t noticed it before, but wonders now how she could have missed it. For a while, she just stares open mouthed in sheer and utter amazement.
The whole room is covered in flowers. There aren’t just a few dotted around, they are everywhere. It’s like the room itself was built around them.
There must be thousands of them, all over the place. The floor, the sofa, the dining table, out on the terrace, in the bedrooms, throughout the bathroom, they are everywhere. Every single corner has been given over, every single available space colonized.
Sash looks at Dante in shock.
When she looks back to the room, she sees them. A huge number of presents wrapped up carefully and hidden amongst the petals.
“Dante, this is-”
She can’t speak for emotion.
“Do you like it?” Dante asks.
Sash is choking up. She doesn’t know what to say. She’s embarrassed she doubted him. She feels awful she questioned his motives. She turns to him, about to say something, then looks back to the flowers. There is no way she can put what she feels into words. She’ll just have to show him. She’ll show him how much what he’s done means to her.
“How did you know?” Sash says finally.
“One, I know you, Sash”, Dante says, moving in behind her now to hug her tightly against his chest. Like this, Sash can feel Dante growing against her back. With his hands on her bump, Sash feels like her life has just been completed. “You may not think I do, but I know you.”
Dante kisses the sensitive skin at the nape of Sash’s neck and she closes her eyes and pushes herself into it.
“And two”, Dante says, spinning her around quickly so they are facing each other. “You bought the tickets with my credit card.”
Sash’s mouth drops open to exaggerate how shocked she is. She should have known he’d know. “You knew all along I’d come out here?” Then it hits her. “That’s why you didn’t contact me. You were waiting for me to come. That was the test?”
“Welcome to California”, Dante says with a wry smile.
“You ass-hole”, Sash says, but she’s not mad. She’s very far from mad at all.
“You’re welcome”, Dante says.
Sash pulls herself away for a moment to explore the room. She picks up some of the flowers to smell them, others she just touches lightly with the tips of her fingers. Underneath her feet, fallen petals crunch. They feel fabulous on her bare toes, against her delicate skin.
“You know”, Dante says. “I’m going to have to punish you for disobeying me.”
“Uh-huh”, Sash says, sweeping petals dramatically off the table.
Dante watches her spread herself over it and stick her ass out as though she wants it to be spanked. He can feel his cock hardening.
“I’ve been a bad girl”, she says.
“Yes you have”, Dante says.
“Maybe you need to spank me?”
Dante moves over to where she is. The table is the perfect height for Sash to bend over it, and have her ass right up in the air by his waist. Covering it, she has a short skirt in a flowing fabric that Dante guesses is a recent purchase. He kicks her legs out a little wider, while he smooths his hand over her back, a patch of skin exposed below the stretch of her vest-top, the tips of his fingers tingly on her skin.
Sash moans as he dancers them up her spine, overjoyed to have his touch back where it should be.
“You shouldn’t have disobeyed me”, Dante says.
Her ass looks round and firm, impossible to resist. “I know”, Sash moans.
Dante runs his finger along the edge of her skirt, where the fabric meets the skin. It’s a precise movement that sends shudders riding out across Sash’s back.
She desperately wants him to lift her skirt, pull down her panties and force his way inside her, but he’s in control here, and Sash will get whatever is coming to her.
“I’ve missed you, Sash”, Dante says.
He moves his hand down to the swell of her ass now, hovering it above her skirt, so close she can feel the heat burn through her, even though he isn’t touching her skin.
“Me too”, Sash moans.
Dante raises his arm into the air, as though he is about to smack her. Suddenly he brings it down, stopping just before he comes in contact with her ass. She can feel it every step of the way, and even though he doesn’t spank her, the sensa
tion is almost as powerful because of the anticipation. She squirms on the desk, her panties already wet, and pushes her ass up even higher as if to suggest it.