The pounding on the door drove spikes into Bill Minor’s head. He groaned, tried to swallow. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with dry sand, and his tongue stuck against his gullet.
More pounding.
“Damn it!” his voice croaked, and he blinked his gummy eyes open. The room was bright, a slanting yellow sun bouncing off the carpet and far wall of his hotel suite. The fireplace reminded him where he was. His familiar luggage lay open on the dresser.
More pounding, and a voice asked, “Mr. Minor? Are you all right?”
His bed was a rumpled mess, and he lay naked on top of it. He climbed wearily to his feet and stuck a hand out to brace himself against the wall. He made his wobbly way to the door. Opened it a slit and stared out at Brandon Marsdon.
Marsdon had his expression carefully under control as he said, “Car will be here in a half an hour, sir. We’ve got the power-up test tonight. Thought you might need a reminder.” Then a smug smile bent the man’s lips. “You had quite a workout last night.”
“Shit.” Minor blinked to clear his vision, closed the door in Marsdon’s face, and shuffled to the bathroom. At the sink he drank from his cupped hands, splashed water into his face, and tried to clear the fuzz from his head.
As he bent, he winced, surprised to find bruises on his ribs and shoulders.
“What the hell?” Red glossy lipstick coated his swollen and sore penis.
Fighting through the fog, he struggled to remember. Women. The raven-haired beauty and the redhead! He’d been at the bar. They were betting on him, laying claim. But what had happened next?
He climbed into the shower, ran the water hot, and looked down at his body. You had quite a workout last night. That’s what Marsdon had said. Both of them? And the lipstick?
Vaguely, he remembered hearing something about having a dick like a bull mandrill’s in the jungle. Or was that just his imagination?
“I didn’t drink that much.”
And then it hit him. Heedless of the spray, he ripped the shower curtain back and stumbled, dripping, out into his room. His pants lay on the floor, and he vaguely remembered the black-haired goddess tossing them there. Dropping to hands and knees, he fumbled for the pockets. His billfold was as he’d left it; the two grand in cash remained undisturbed, the credit cards all in their slots. His keycards were in the back pocket, and the leather holster cradled his smartphone. He pulled his key ring out and sighed in relief as he clutched his security pass card.
Standing, he looked carefully around the room. A bottle of Jack Daniels, its cap missing, stood on the desk; less than an inch of amber liquid remained in the bottom. A bra hung from the corner of the plasma TV. He grabbed it down. Too big for the redhead. Had to be the brunette’s.
“What were their names?”
He plodded back to the shower. Feeling like hammered shit, he climbed back into the spray and pulled the curtain closed.
After he’d dressed, his stomach aching, he stepped out into the hall and slitted a reproving eye when Marsdon snickered.
“You want to tell me what happened last night?”
“None of my business, sir.”
“What time did I come back to the room?”
“About midnight, sir.”
“And what time did the women leave?”
“A little before two, sir.”
“Did they try to access the Domina’s room?”
Marsdon gave him a quizzical look. “Uh, they were definitely busy with other things, sir.”
“And you know this how?”
“You all, um . . . were loud, sir.” He struggled to keep his expression under control. “And athletic.”
I didn’t drink that much!
Once again, he checked to be sure his billfold was secure and his cell phone in place. The near empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the desk haunted him.
Why do I feel like I’ve been scammed?
Those thoughts on his mind, he went down and knocked on Domina’s door. The peep hole went dark as her security agent checked, then opened the door.
“Have a nice night, sir?” the man asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Minor slitted an eye that promised mayhem, only to step back as Domina, dressed in a clinging pink chiffon pantsuit, walked out. At the sight of Minor, her stately lips curled wryly, her blue eyes amused. “Mixtim cum feminae in orgia corrumperis?”
“Excuse me?”
In her stilted English, she added, “If you need to, how you say, nap? I will understand.” Then as she started down the hall, following her security, she added, “You impress even me.”
Minor would have ground his teeth in humiliation, but it aggravated his headache too much.