“Oh, he saw us?”
“Yeah, he saw that you didn’t pay me anything when we were done, and he was pissed. But I think he was more concerned that I had said I wouldn’t do anything like that and now he thinks I’m doing it. Or at the very least, he thought I was making very poor decisions. Stephano didn’t make it sound like his goon was supposed to hurt me, though. He just told him to escort me out.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“What are you talking about, Jackson? That is not good. He had that goon strangling me out back to teach me a lesson. I don’t see how any of this is good.”
“It’s good that he didn’t tell the guy to strangle you. That means the goon took it upon himself and that never works out well for guys like him when Stephano finds out.”
Roxanne was worked up and I didn’t want to argue, but it was good that Stephano just thought I was a John trying to get some free time with Roxanne. It was much better than thinking I was an investigator looking for Ana.
We rode back to the hotel in silence because I didn’t know what else to say to Roxanne. She had had a long and difficult night, and I assumed she was exhausted. I could see the red welts on her neck and was just happy that she didn’t appear to have any problems breathing. It was easier than most people thought to fracture a windpipe and that could make breathing very difficult.
At the hotel, we walked together into the lobby and then into the elevator. The sexual tension between us seemed to grow with each step toward our hotel rooms. But I didn’t think it was my place to make any moves on her. She had to be in charge of that end of things; I didn’t want to be perceived as the jerk who tried to take advantage of her.
“Thank you,” Roxanne said as we both stood in front of our hotel rooms and unlocked the doors.
“No problem. I’m glad you’re all right.”
I moved slowly into my room in the hope that she might stop me and ask for me to come eat with her again. But there was nothing else she had to say. We both went to our respective rooms.
I left the door between our rooms open, but Roxanne left hers closed and locked. She didn’t need me that night, I figured.
Our time in the back room had been so intense, I genuinely couldn’t wait to get her back to the room and continue things. But after the strangling incident, I knew she was going to need her space. I wanted to reach out to her and see how she was doing, but I didn’t want to seem pushy. A traumatic event like the one she had just been through wasn’t something I could help her much with. She just needed to not think about it and move on.
Luckily, I knew that Roxanne wasn’t the type of girl who had a lot of emotions to show. She was hiding almost every emotion she had and I wasn’t interested in trying to break her of that habit. I had met women like her before; they had hard lives so they hide behind this lack of emotion. Sooner or later, though, that emotion was going to break through, and I didn’t want to be the person who was around when that happened.
I ordered food for myself and watched television as I tried to wind down so I could sleep. Unfortunately, the scene from the private lap dance room just kept replaying in my mind. I felt myself get hard just thinking about her tits in my face.
Roxanne was a beautiful woman, that was for damn sure. But her complicated situation and emotions weren’t anything I wanted to deal with. A woman like her was certainly more than I could handle and I wasn’t going to get myself all mixed up in her life. I was there to do a job and that’s exactly what I was going to do. Nothing more and nothing less.
More than once, I wanted to knock on the door between us to see if she was awake. Out of kindness, I wanted to make sure she was still breathing well and not having any problems. Strangulation was a dangerous injury and a person could stop breathing very easily if they didn’t pay close attention to the warning signs and aftermath of the injury.
It wasn’t just her health that I was thinking of, though. My mind swirled with the thought of having Roxanne in my bed. The idea of having her naked lying next to me was an enticing one, and I couldn’t wait until it happened. I felt like it would sooner or later. She could only resist my charms for so long before she finally gave in.
Stop thinking about her.
Every time I thought that I would never give in to my desire for Roxanne, I had the exact opposite thought only a few minutes later. She was occupying a lot of time in my thoughts and the naughty thoughts seemed to be coming more frequently than before. I just couldn’t keep her off of my mind.
Then, I realized that Roxanne hadn’t really gotten to experience many of my good charms yet. We had been working since we met each other. She probably thought I was just some muscle-bound oaf who didn’t care at all about women. But that was as far from the truth as possible.
I loved women, especially strong, independent women. I still wasn’t sure if Roxanne was really my type or not, but she was the only woman I’d had my hard cock up against in several months, so she was starting to look more and more like my type every day.
I knocked on the door between our rooms to see if she was doing all right. It was just to check on her health, I told myself. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t feeling any pain when she took a breath, and I wanted to know if she had any pressure in her chest while breathing. As soon as I found out how she was feeling, I was going to go right back to my bed.
“How are you feeling?” I said through the door.
There was no answer at first, but then I heard the door unlock and saw Roxanne standing there in front of me. She looked like she had been crying and her eyes were puffy and red. Her black mascara seeped down her face in a waterfall of emotions.
It surprised me. Roxanne hadn’t struck me as the kind of girl who cried, and I stood there and looked at her as the scene sunk in. Then, I realized she must have actually been really scared when that guy was strangling her. She probably thought he was going to kill her.
Emotions and women were not my thing. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. Give me a disaster that I could fix any day of the week over the emotions of a woman. Women were so hard to predict. I liked my life and my ability to predict what would happen next for me.
“I’m all right,” she said. It was clearly a lie.
Why did strong women always do that? The second a man asked them if they were all right, their answer was always that they were just fine. It drove me nuts when women didn’t say what was really going on. Just tell me you aren’t doing well. Tell me you had a horrible night and just want to cry. Tell me something real, I just don’t want to hear a lie.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” I asked.