Job 2—Hotel Hustle
I dragged my bag down the hotel corridor, already dreading another shift. Two days. That was it. Two days of cleaning, dusting, vacuuming—for pay that would cover my trip. Room 412. Supposedly empty.
I pushed the door open, set the cart down, and started wiping surfaces. The disinfectant smelled sharp, the carpets pristine. My mind drifted to the game I’d just watched, wishing I could teleport there instead of scrubbing luxury for strangers.
I was kneeling by the dresser when I heard a soft splash from the bathroom. Freezing, I glanced up. The door swung open, and she stepped out—naked. My stomach dropped. My mouth went dry. Heat pooled low and insistent.
She noticed my gaze flicking, a smirk forming. “Don’t stop working,” she said lightly, voice smooth. “Just… keep
