I heard the humming in the shower as I fought to open up my eyes. For a while I had lost my chain of thoughts and forgotten where I was, I saw the hotel room and I fell into a small fit of panic, I hadn’t realized that I was no longer in AJ’s Four Seasons hotel room, but with Lance at the Hilton. I sprang up from the bed, my naked ness barely concealed under the sheets; I ran my hands over my hair. “Wow! Where am I?” I saw the picture on the wall, the Chinese symbol, it reminded me of the day before when I had stared at it for an hour, the thoughts circled in my head. I had had sex, with someone else, good sex, exhausting sex, inexplicably wonderful sex. Before I could remember any further with whom it was, he walked in, my lover, with a smile on his face.

Lance was dripping from the shower, his blonde hair a wet mess, tying a white towel on his waist. His body was well toned, buff, and juicy. His nipples fair, peachy and glistening from the wash, His shoulders average square frame, and his smile unmistakably flawless. But the best feature were his eyes, honest and true like the door to his inner sincerity. And he didn’t have a single tattoo on him. He looked like a masterpiece, a sculptor’s dream, oozing with finery to make any woman drool, and indeed I did. Did I just make love to this guy? Damn, I’m lucky. I smirked at him as he smiled back at me.

“Hello, did I wake you?” He asked, wiping his hair profusely with a small white hand towel.
I smiled with no answer, glowing from the sex.
“I ordered dinner,” he said.
“You did?” I sat up, pulling away the sheets from me. I was still naked.
“Yeah, I did.” He ran to the hallway to retrieve the cart the waiter must have dropped while he served us dinner. “I hope you like Lobster. And then there’s some champagne, strawberries, Vanilla ice cream, sushi, the works. I wasn’t sure what you would like so I took the liberty to order everything on the menu.” He brought the trays into the bedroom.

I was impressed. His manners were distinctive, no one could complain of this guy. I stood up from the bed, parading my naked body in front of him, “I think I better jump into the shower since you got to it before me.” I blew him a kiss before I stepped into the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later, I was out of the shower and refreshed. I wrapped my body in a fluffy white robe and headed back to the bedroom. Lance was dressed in a pair of shorts and a white tee shirt, sitting on the bed. He hadn’t started on the food, but he had opened up the wine. I was handed a glass immediately.

“Oh, thanks,” I squealed, crossing my legs on the bed. He gave me a questioning look, and I knew the question, sort of, “I’m 18 and I’m not a hooker either.” He heaved a small sigh of relief. “Now you want to know how old I am. You didn’t care when we were at it.” I took a sip of the champagne.

“I wasn’t thinking then.” He made for my glass, and I fluttered my eyelids at him, begging him to let me finish the glass. He agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Where are you from?” Lance asked.
“Around,” I brushed off.
“Really, where are you from? Where are you headed with the bags? Are you in school?” Lance fired the questions one at a time; familiar questions for the curious at heart.
“Why do you want to know, does it matter?”  I drained the glass, the bubbles tingling the tip of my nose.
“A little. I hardly know you,” he asked, concerned. He took the glass away from me so I wouldn’t ask for another.
“There’s nothing to know sweetie.” I caressed his face, running my hands against his sparse blonde beard. “You met me at the Four Seasons and now I am here with you in bed. It’s that simple.”
I was not ready to tell Lance the true story of where I was from, where I had been, what I had been through, what had led me to him and made me ready to follow him anywhere. All that was in my past, I refused to comment on them to strangers. I had made the mistake of trusting AJ with some of my secrets once my heart had opened up to him and he had used it to berate me, and throw my trust and love back in my face. Lance did not need to know these things. I shall only tell him what is necessary, I confirmed in my head: only what is necessary Nikki, no more.

“Nothing is that simple,” Lance said, placing the tray of lobster in between us on the bed.
“Can you honestly tell me you’ve never brought a strange woman to your bed?”
“Nope, I haven’t. I still don’t know why I did. The guys would have a fit if they knew.” He ran his hands across his hair, bouncing the spikes back and forth on his face.
“Then you don’t tell them,” I resolved, batting my eyes.
“Like I said it’s not that simple.” He cracked the lobster and made to feed me a piece of it, I declined. “Why?”
“I don’t like it.” I made for the strawberries, dipping them in the ice cream. I teased them with the tip of my tongue before I swallowed; making sure Lance was catching my seductive gesture.
He shook his head when he saw this, “You’re messing with my head.”
I laughed, hysterically. I pulled him close and smacked a soft kiss on his lips, his lips felt warm. “You are so sweet, it’s unbelievable.” I ran my forefinger along the lines of his mouth, before I planted another kiss on them.
“I like you,” he said intently. “Is it part of the game too? Am I meant to like you?” he questioned with his sincere eyes.
He liked me. How sweet, I chuckled inside me. It felt good to hear that again from someone else besides AJ. It felt good to have someone say it with a tad bit of sincerity, and Lance looked sincere. He was as sincere as they came. I heard my stomach rumble with butterflies at his confession. Maybe, I did like him too. I was in bed with him, wasn’t I? That should account for something. Without thinking further, I replied, “I like you too so it’s not a game… to me, that is.” I spooned some ice cream into my mouth.

He smiled in assurance; my confession had pleased him. “You can at least tell me you’re real name…”

“It’s Nikki, it is my real name…Nikki Scott. Nice name, aye?” I giggled.
He was not amused, but I shook him up to stir some life into him. “Relax, Lance, you’ve got a while to know me, let’s take our time, okay? I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to.” I hugged him tight, I could hear his heart pounding, and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t going to hurt him; I was totally harmless, harmless and sinister. He hugged tighter, his rough hands rubbing my back, pressing my breast against his chest. I bit on his ear, to tickle him. He let out a soft moan of pleasure. “Is it okay if I tell you about me?”

“Yeah, sure. Tell me whatever you want. I really do want to know about you.” He kissed me this time, like a thank you kiss, for letting him open up to me. I was not too sure, but he seemed grateful, very grateful that I said that. Perhaps he had often lacked someone to tell stories of himself too, I shall not know.

“I have to go away tomorrow, or…” he checked his watch, it was 2 am. “Later today, but I’ll get back in two days time. The recording can’t take that long. But since I will be moving with the guys, I want you to stay here and wait for me, is that okay?” I nodded. “Don’t answer the phone. Hear me, don’t answer the phone, I’ll contact you through the concierge, okay.” I nodded again. These orders sounded familiar, only the “ignore the phone” part seemed a bit too high-tech incognito to me. I saluted him like a soldier, and he smiled amused; everything amused this guy, he was easily amused by my antics.  “Just wait for me, when I come back, okay, you can do that wait?”

I nodded. “Okay, but what do we do now?” I asked, dumbfounded. A thought ran through my mind as I lifted the ice cream to my mouth, he gave me a coy smile that almost had me guessing what he was thinking. I pulled off his tee shirt and proceeded to act out a little experiment with the ice cream on his nipples. He squealed, “Nikki, I have to go to work early tomorrow.”
I looked up at him, halfway down to his shorts, “Do you want me to stop?”
He could barely shake his head in objection. “I thought so.” I put my hands to his mouth to shut him up, as I went down further to his shorts. Lance had no complaints for that night, how could he?

After sex, Lance and I talked. Or at least he did most of the talking. I just listened. I had no idea I could be such a good listener. He talked about his childhood; his favorite childhood memory was his father buying him the scooter he had pointed out to him at a local hardware store for his 10th birthday. It made him feel so special.
“Do you know I still have that scooter?” He sang out with delight. I bet you do, knowing him it might still be in the same shape it was when his father gave it to him. I said to my self, bitter that I didn’t have such sweet memories.

He talked about his band, the four guys who had now become his family and his best friends. He talked with extreme detail and exaggerated intensity. He was almost deep, every story had its meaning to him, a special connotation, a special place in his heart. I couldn’t keep up any longer with his heightened happy go-lucky life; I fell asleep on his lap, as I heard him talk on. We had a long day ahead of us. He must have fallen asleep too because for a while he stopped talking.