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Personal AssistantThe short ride to the hotel was silent and awkward. Clay fidgeted endlessly and bit his lower lip until it bled while Melanie averted her eyes, her thoughts racing uncontrollably. When they reached their destination, they climbed out wordlessly, following a security guard to their rooms. Once inside hers, Melanie closed the heavily polished wooden door and leaned against it, trying to calm herself. Her mind was going haywire. "God, I need a drink." She muttered, striding over to the mini bar and removing a small bottle of expensive red wine. She had just raised it to her parched lips when there was a loud knock at her door. Groaning in frustration, she moved to answer it, yanking it open in annoyance. Clay was standing there. "What do you need?" Melanie asked, sighing. "What makes you think I need something?" "Because that's the only time you acknowledge me." His eyes narrowed. "Stop making me out to be a snob." She snorted. "Why?" "Because I'm not." His arms crossed in defiance. "Could have fooled me," came the reply as she brought the bottle of wine to her lips and chugged. He stared at her. "I'm not a bad person. I just..." "You what, Clay?" "I don't want this. I don't want this lifestyle." Melanie nodded, shrugging her shoulders. "You're not surprised?" He asked incredulously. "No." Stepping back, she reached for the door handle. "Do you need anything else?" He didn't answer, and for a moment their eyes locked and a wave of understanding passed between them. When Melanie finally looked away and began to close the door, Clay reached for her longingly. "Wait..." He pleaded, lifting her chin upward toward him. His plump lips were hot burners engulfing her in blazing warmth, his tongue a live wire shooting electricity through her entire body. The glass bottle in her hand fell to the ground and shattered, dousing their feet and lower legs in dark wine, but neither of them made a move to pick it up. Pulling away slowly, he looked at her once more before turning and walking away from her room and down the hall toward his, leaving her sweating and gasping for breath. Nearing his room, Clay licked his lips, savoring their flavor. They tasted like Melanie, like passion and fire and red, red wine. Delicious.
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