The Maid

Andrea had just finished making the bed and was smoothing down the sheets when her phone rang. It was Tracey.

“Babes are you okay?!” she asked urgently into the phone.

She shouldn’t really answer when she was at work, but this was her best friend. Three days ago Tracey walked in on her boyfriend and her sister in bed together. To say she’d taken it pretty badly would have been a bit of an understatement; Andrea hadn’t heard from her since the morning it had happened, and had been worried sick.

Knowing that this was going to be a long conversation, she looked around the room. There were no obvious signs of inhabitation; the room appeared to be vacant. Slipping off her plimsolls, she flopped onto the bed. It would be fine she thought, I can smooth the sheets down again afterwards.

Stephano had decided to pop back to his room to freshen up after a gruelling meeting and was astonished to find a young woman stretched out on his bed, talking on her phone. She was lying on her front, shoes kicked off and feet in the air, ankles crossed. She clearly hadn’t heard him arrive and had no idea she had an audience. It took him a moment to figure out she must be the hotel maid there to clean his room.

He stood stock still and gazed at her, unsure what to do. He couldn’t see her face but her arse was well and truly delectable. He watched as she unconsciously grabbed a lose lock of dark hair and began to twist it round her finger while she talked. Far as he could tell from the side of the conversation he could hear, she seemed to be comforting a friend who’d just split up with her boyfriend.

Taking a step closer, Stephano noticed the tops of stockings peeping out from under her skirt. He felt his breath catch as an unexpected surge of attraction coursed through him. He didn’t know why she would be wearing them but he found the fact that she had them on underneath her uniform - and that he knew about it - inexplicably arousing.

Andrea was so engrossed in her conversation she hadn’t heard the door open. When she finally wrapped up her conversation with Tracey and turned to get up, there was a man standing in the doorway looking down at her, expression unreadable. She jumped off of the bed so fast that anyone watching could be forgiven for thinking it had just spontaneously erupted into flames. Worst of all, she had no idea how long he’d been standing there.

The man was devastatingly handsome, in a dangerous brooding sort of way. He was dark, thick black hair that was harshly combed back off his face. Intensely dark, deep set eyes; sullen secretive, dangerous, with irises that seemed almost onyx black. Olive skin, a strong jaw, really great bone structure. He had a powerful, masculine beauty that was breathtaking, just looking at him she noticed her heart rate had started to increase. She wasn’t sure how much of it was fear and how much of it was attraction. Even simply acknowledging that he was attractive made her insides clench. Shuffling from foot to foot nervously, she found herself unconsciously twisting the hem of her apron between her fingers.

If her line manager found out she’d been sprawled across a guests bed making a social call on her mobile during work time, well, they would have no sympathy for her friend Tracey’s predicament. Chambermaids were a dime a dozen in central London, she’d known people get laid off for much less, and despite working there for over 30 months now she wasn’t even on a contract.

He was still just standing there, watching her intently. She managed to stutter out a rushed, nervous apology.

“I-I-I’m sorry s-sir, I thought the room had been vacated. I promise it won’t h-happen again.”

He didn’t reply. She wondered if maybe he hadn’t understood, he looked like he could be of Mediterranean origin so she tried again, in Spanish this time.

“Señor lo siento mucho, yo prometo que no volverá a suceder...”

He lifted his hand and she abruptly stopped speaking.

“I understand English.”

He did have an accent of some sort but she couldn’t make out what it was. It was very faint. He was still watching her. As his eyes travelled up and down the length of her body the cliché ‘he’s undressing with you his eyes’ suddenly made perfect sense. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.

“What happens if they find out you were lying on a guests bed chatting on your phone?” he asked, in a voice that seemed quietly menacing

“My line manager would probably sack me; she’s a bit of a dragon.”

She sighed inwardly. Why on earth did I tell him that?”

“Look, I’m really sorry, I’ll get my stuff and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have you finished cleaning my suite?”

“No,” She admitted, looking away. She immediately wished she hadn’t, cringing as she spotted the imprint of her body on the bed where she’d been lying. “I still need to do the bathroom.” She added quietly.

He took a step into the room and towards her; she fought the urge to back away.

“I’d like you to finish.”

“Of course sir.” She replied nodding.