31 | What Did You Do

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The girls and I lounged around the pool a little past sunset, wading around the water once the boys left and the lights around us switched on to a dimly lit glow. We headed inside, had a lavish early dinner and even more cocktails before we all headed back to the hotel spa for even more luxurious packages.

This time however, was more of the self-grooming type of luxury maintenance.

We had our nails done, both manicures and pedicures. We had our hair done if needed, some of the girls had their roots touched up, whereas I just had a treatment and serum applied with a wash. Some of us were spray tanned, some of us were waxed, some of us even had our teeth whitened. All whilst happily buzzed on sweet, fruity alcoholic drinks.

It was about ten at night when we each headed back to our seperate rooms, yelling out drunkenly that we loved each other and that we'd do the same thing tomorrow. Tomorrow was when Robyn's sister had ordered strippers.

I don't know why she did, because male strippers to women aren't as thrilling nor exciting as female strippers are to men. Sharlize for example, a woman who literally runs the PlayHaus for a living, will be silently judging their skills - although she might enjoy it given the PlayHaus caters only to men and not women.

She's bisexual though so who knows if tomorrows men will turn her on. Maybe she will switch into business mode when she sees half naked men dancing on her lap, or maybe she won't.

Robyn was pretty wasted today I must admit. She is trying to be strategic about who her hall pass fuck will be, trying to make sure it's a good fuck. If all goes terribly wrong though Robyn, you are marrying Harrison and I've heard all about your wild sex life.

So I know Harrison is good.

My room is exquisite. During the day the views are spectacular and the interior decor looks straight out of some regal Italian palace. Seriously, this looks like a place for royalty. And the pillows? The fucking pillows? Incredible. I fall asleep in seconds. I need to take one home.

I'm rudely awoken in the middle of night to Tom slamming his hand on the light switch, the room lights making me squint and cover my eyes as he stumbles through the door. I check my phone next to me on the bedside table:

5:04am

"Oh fuck, sorry darling!" He said in a loud yet hushed tone. Like he was screaming whilst whispering.

"Can you just turn the lights off and use your phone torch Tom? It's so bright," I groaned, my voice croaky from being deep in slumber a mere two seconds ago.

He did as I asked, fumbling in his pockets for his phone and putting the flashlight on. The phone faced up on a nearby side table. He leant- no, fell into the wall as he attempted to unlace his shoes, resorting to just undoing the knot and pulling them as hard as he could off his feet.

I grunted and put my pillow over my face as he stumbled around the room. I couldn't see him but I could hear every single little thing he was doing. First the shoes fell to the ground. Then he walked over to the ensuite bathroom, slapped his hand along the wall for the light switch and started running the tap.

I presume he washed his face from the sounds of splashing and then I heard him brush his teeth - gargling obnoxiously loud at the end before he spat into the sink.

Jesus fucking Christ Thomas.

"Darling... Are you awake?" He whisper yelled again.

"Unfortunately..." I groaned, pulling the pillow off my face and positioning it under my head again.

"C'mere and gimme a kiss," he said attempting to lean over to the bed as he came out from the ensuite. However, he leant forward, realised he was off balance and luckily caught himself under his arms as he hovered half over me from the side of the bed.

"No, you smell like scotch, sweat and cigarettes," I groaned once again, rolling over to face the other side of the bed.

"I'm too drunk to shower, I might fucken' drown or something. Unless you join me and make sure I don't die?" He chuckled to himself.

"It's five in the fucking morning, I'm not having a shower with you," I said.

I heard him struggle to take his pants off, evident by the sounds of him hopping up and down and the rustles of material. He fell into bed and I took a deep breath, all of this happening whilst I tried to fall back asleep.

His fingertip pressed against my nose in a little poking manner as he whisper yelled to me again.

"Wanna hear about my night? It was so sick," he giggled.

"Not really. Unless you cheated on me," I said bluntly, yet still half asleep.

"Never, never, never. But you wanna know what I did do? You can't be angry though," he said like a guilty child. This caught my attention enough to open my eyes, reach behind me to turn the bedside table lamp on and glare at him.

"What did you fucking do Tom," I snapped.

"You can't be angry! See for yourself," he grinned, like a dorky proud teenager. He rolled over and pointed under his ear bordering his upper neck, a fresh tattoo underneath a plastic wrap adhesive.

"You're a fucking idiot. Why would you do this whilst you were super drunk," I sighed, hitting his chest and lying back down in bed.

"No, no! Did you see it properly?" He whined.

I admit, it was quite small and the protective sheet of plastic adhesive covering it reflected against the light so I couldn't really see what it was. On a closer inspection, it was about the size of my thumb nail, a neat and tidy first initial of my name.

"Cos like, I love you and shit," he said rolling back down, smiling from ear to ear with his eyes half shut from the alcohol and severe sleep deprivation.

"You love me and shit?" I laughed, smiling at him as I turned the lamp back off and rolled over to face him.

"I would've killed you if you got something huge and ugly," I said softly, closing my eyes ready to sleep again.

"It was either the single letter, or 'fuck bitches' across my chest in huge writing. So lucky I went with this one hey?" He taunted, leaning forward to kiss my lips gently.

"I'm the only bitch you fuck so that would've been a lie on your body anyway," I joked back, snuggling into his side and telling him to please go to sleep.

"Hey Y/N?" He asked timidly.

"What did I just say?" I sighed.

"Are you angry at me?" He said again.

"No, I'm just tired because you came back at five in the morning and woke me up," I responded.

"Okay good," he said kissing the top of my head.

𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant