He managed to make it through that drink and halfway through the next before he heard the clanking of the door releasing and the opening of the door. Celia came back in, two shopping bags in her hands.
“How was it?” Jake asked her.
She shook her head tiredly. “I barely even made it out of the elevator before they were all over me like vampires. And they definitely connected my presence here with yours.”
“What did you tell them?” Jake asked.
“The truth,” she said. “I said that you and I are working on new albums in Coos Bay, that we had to fly up here to get me a new guitar, and there was an issue with your plane that made us have to stay the night.”
Jake nodded. “I guess sometimes the truth really does set you free,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure the assumption is that we’re staying in different rooms,” she said. “As long as the hotel staff doesn’t blab, we should be good.”
“That’s a big ‘as long as’,” he pointed out, remember a little incident in Omaha a few years back when he and Helen had stayed there—in separate rooms, no less.
She shrugged. “What can you do?” she asked. “In any case, I’m thinking that going down to the restaurant together is probably not such a good idea. How about we order room service?”
“Sounds good to me,” Jake said. “What time do you want to eat?”
“Why don’t you order us something now? I’m going to go grab a quick shower and change into my new jammies I just bought and then peace out for the rest of the night.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “What do you want me to order?”
“Surprise me,” she said, walking toward the bedroom. “Oh ... and if you have one of those drinks waiting for when I come back out, I’ll love you forever.”
“Who could say no to an offer like that?” he asked.
She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Jake pondered the thought of her getting naked in there for a moment—it had been a long time since he had been laid after all—and then shook the image off and walked over to the writing desk. He picked up the room service menu and spent a few minutes perusing it. He then ordered two filet mignon meals with sautéed mushrooms and baked potatoes, two bottles of local merlot, and two cheesecakes for dessert.
“That will be delivered within thirty minutes,” the room service girl promised.
“Thanks,” Jake replied and then hung up.
He went back to the bar, carrying his glass with him. He refreshed his own drink and constructed a new one for Celia, going heavy on the rum for hers. She had some catching up to do, after all.
Celia emerged from the bedroom about ten minutes later. Her long, dark hair was down and still a little damp from her shower. She had indeed put on her new pajamas. They were maroon in color and looked very silky. The pants were capri style, with the hems at about mid-calf. The top was short-sleeved and button-up, loose-fitting across her chest. It was plainly apparent by the way her magnificent breasts bounced and jiggled as she moved that she was not wearing a bra beneath the top. Jake felt a wave of intense sexual lust go coursing through him as he watched her walk over and retrieve her drink.
Jesus fucking Christ she’s hot, he thought resisting the urge to stare at her mammaries, at her beautiful face, at the manicured nails on her sexy feet. Is she deliberately trying to drive me insane?
“Ahh, thanks for the drink, Jake,” she said, picking it up. “I guess I have to love you forever now, huh?”
“That was the deal,” Jake agreed, picking up his own drink and shooting down a healthy slug of it.
Celia carried her beverage over and sat in the clawfoot chair next to Jake’s position on the couch. As she settled in, the hem of her top rode up a little, exposing her bare midriff and her belly button. Jake exhaled forcefully as he saw the smooth expanse of skin. It looked incredibly soft—the kind of skin a man would like to run his hand across ... or perhaps his tongue. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look away. Celia, seemingly unaware of the view she was providing, took a long sip of her own.
“Oh ... this is heaven,” she said, relishing the taste. “I feel like getting drunk is in order. Did you order some wine with dinner?”
“Two bottles of merlot,” he said, still checking out her bare tummy with his peripheral vision.
“Excellent,” she said, taking another sip. She then casually reached down and pulled her top down, covering her belly up but creating another delicious rippling of her breasts.
Jake took a deep breath. He was buzzing a little from the booze he’d consumed but he could still sense a strong sexual tension in the air and it was making him nervous. The two of them had flirted with each other for years, each knowing the other was not really serious about it, but this seemed different somehow. Did Celia have any idea what she was doing to him, coming out in sexy pajamas without a bra on? He suspected that she did. But why was she doing it? She was married—to a good friend of his, no less—and he was in a committed relationship—with a good friend of hers. In addition to that, they were business partners. What was going on? Was anything going on? Was she just treating him as a good friend, a brother, a roommate and he was reading into things? That was certainly possible, wasn’t it?
Not just possible, probable, the rational part of his mind assured him. She’s having some sort of trouble with her husband, she just lost an instrument that was very dear to her, and now she’s stuck in Portland because we had to make an emergency landing. She’s just trying to get comfortable for the evening. And she’s comfortable enough around me that she can wear her pajamas just like she’s at home. That is all that is going on here.
They sat in companionable silence and Celia took the opportunity to play a little catch-up with him. She drank down her entire rum and coke and then walked over to the bar to mix up a fresh one. Jake couldn’t help but stare at her impressive derriere as she made the trip to the bar, and at her jiggling, unencumbered breasts as she made the trip back. This time she noticed his interest.
“Sorry,” she said. “I let the girls free for the night. That bra I was wearing was one of my tight ones and I just couldn’t stand it biting into my shoulders anymore.”
“No problem at all,” Jake assured her, feeling himself flush a little at being caught.
“I could go put it back on ... you know ... if it grosses you out or anything.”
He gave her a meaningful look. “You know goddamn well your jiggling boobs are not grossing me out. They’re making me have impure thoughts, is what they’re doing.”
She giggled a little. “Impure thoughts, huh? It’s nice to know I still have it.”
“Oh, you have it all right,” he told her.
This statement obviously pleased her. “Thanks, Jake,” she said. “My ego needs a little boost about now. I will go put the bra back on though if my ‘jiggling boobs’, as you say, are distracting you too much.”
“No need for that,” he said. “You should be comfortable, especially after everything that happened today. I’ll try not to ogle you so much.”
“All right,” she said, making herself comfortable in her chair once again. “Although there’s nothing wrong with a little ogling, is there? You know, between friends?”
Jake thought it wiser not to answer that one.
Celia stepped out of the room when the server arrived to bring their meal order in. This precaution was undoubtedly pointless since the staff at the hotel had to know the two of them were here together and were staying in the same suite together—and even if the server did not know that the two of them were in the same suite, he had just brought up two dinners—but there was no sense in giving him visual confirmation of what he knew, especially not with Celia dressed in a pair of sexy pajamas with no bra on. Over the past few years a handful of incidents such as what had happened to Jake and Helen in Omaha had forced hotels to put in place rigid rules about discretion when it came to famous guests who were staying with them—any staff member found to have blabbed any details were summarily fired these days—but those maroon jammies and free-range boobs just might have been enough to get a few tongues wagging despite the consequences.