Rosie's Thorns 🥀|18+|🥀

19 | Hideout

(⚠️Sensual Tension Level Three⚠️ )

(Disfruto- Carla Morrison)

《¤Rosie¤》

I knew what "our place" meant. It wasn't the Penthouse, even though that could be consider our place. He meant the place we'd sneak off to, where he wasn't a Underboss and I wasn't the daughter of a ruthless Mafia leader. It was a place where innocent touches turned into an innocent first kiss.

Dom was my first kiss. He wasn't my first for other things, but he definitely had my first kiss. He was shy when he realized I was immature when it came to that. I was eighteen and he was six years my senior when we officially met. He was my trainer, set up by my father to prepare me for combat and any dangerous situations. Over the course of a year I developed a crush over my grumpy instructor and slowly he softened around the edges.

Then we started sneaking around.

When he was off duty and I found a free moment in my own busy schedule, I'd sneak away and meet him. It felt forbidden sneaking around with someone both my mother and father wouldn't approve of. My father was still pressing the matter of being with Luca and I didn't want that at the time. I wanted to throw everything away for my hot, heavily tattooed trainer that sent my heart into a frenzy and stole my breath with every soft caress and soft kiss.

I suck in a deep breath at the memory as I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat. I'd eventually talked Hana into taking me back to the hotel. She was persistent of partying the night away into dawns first light, but I suppose she guessed why I was in a rush to get back.

I thanked her for the evening, feeling slightly guilty I'd ended it early. Hana didn't seem the least bit disappointed, she only kept reassuring me that she completely understood.

My clutch in hand, I march into Costa Hotel with my heart beating a mile a minute. My eyes shift towards the receptionist desk. It was a little after 11:36pm and even though it was late, she was distracted by a customer demanding a refund for something they clearly bought intentionally. Seeing this as my opportunity, I sneak through a narrow hall and duck through a door only meant for staff.

Once upon a time every other week at midnight we'd meet. The receptionist used to be an older man pushing into his late eighties. He'd fall asleep by then and we'd slip through the staffing courters to a storage room where they kept extra furniture and supplies. I remember it always smelled of cleaner and mothballs, but oddly enough we didn't mind. It was a place where we laid down a mattress one evening and had a picnic on top of it. I remember I had spilled grape juice and it left an ugly maroon stain on its white plush surface. We hid the mattress behind similair ones in hopes it wouldn't get us caught. It was our little secret. A secret I used to look forward to.

As I slip through the halls, I couldn't help but feel that ancient sensation. The same sensation that made my heart spike and my hands clammy. The same sensation that made my lungs heavy and a ball of nerves coil in the pit of my stomach.

What would he expect from me?

I held my breath as I stopped in front of the door. I was early. I still had a few minutes, but a part of me feared keeping him waiting. A part of me feared he'd reject me once again if I was just one minute late.

Bracing myself for whatever the outcome of tonight would be, I placed my hand on the doorhandle and pushed down. It swung open easily with a soft groan and gently thumped against the wall. Darkness. The dim fluorescent lights from the hall barely reached two feet into the room. I froze, staring into the cool dark room as apprehension pooled within my stomach.