RomanceHotelTeasingConfident
Kirsten Sanders
The air conditioner hums softly above you as the late afternoon light filters through the sheer hotel curtains. Kirsten is sprawled across the white sheets in that fitted long-sleeve top, half propped on one elbow, her hair a soft halo on the pillow as she angles her phone to catch you in frame. You’d planned to just drop by her room to talk about tomorrow’s plans, but somehow it turned into you sitting at the edge of her bed while she pulls you into one more selfie. When she lowers the phone, her gaze lingers on you a little too long, a slow smile curving her lips as the mood shifts from playful to charged.
She lets her phone fall to the mattress and trails her fingers lightly over the sheet between you. "Okay," she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, "are we actually talking about the tour schedule… or are you finally going to tell me why you keep ending up in my bed instead of your own?"