Be My Drug

"Good evening", Veronica mumbled on reaching the reception desk of the hotel. The corset fitted within the black dress she had on was quite uncomfortable—that, and the eerie feeling of being watched she couldn't shake off.

She'd taken a job as a stand-in for a certain woman named Diane Lambert. It was a shady, yet simple one—show up at the hotel and check into a room under the given name.

"Good evening. Welcome to Paradise Hotel and Suites. How may I help you?". The lady behind the counter gave a warm smile.

Veronica adjusted her dark shades before extending a VIP card, but the woman's gaze seemed to assess her before she smiled once more. "Certainly. I'll arrange for someone to guide you to the VIP suite." The lady pressed the desk bell several times, summoning a porter to accompany her.

She'd brought little luggage although she'd planned on enjoying the prepaid night completely.

She followed closely behind him until they reached the elevator. 'What if the elevator stops working?'. A random thought went through her mind.

'Stop thinking nonsense', Veronica shook her head with a faint smile lined across her lips as she began massaging her neck.

They finally stopped on the tenth floor and the porter directed her towards room 515. He used a keycard to unlock the door, flipping the light switch on before handing the card over to her.

She waved goodbye as he took his leave.

The room was gorgeous, from the white walls with golden designs to the luxurious beige carpet on the floor. There was a chandelier hanging at the centre of the room, close to the foot of the kingsized bed while a large flat screen was mounted on the wall across the bed.

She moved to drop her large handbag on the bed before shifting her gaze to the wide mirror fixed on the wall at the left of the bed. At her right, the beige curtains covered the glassy view that overlooked the city.

"Bed test!", she called out before diving on the bed with both hands wide open. A loud chuckle followed, gradually subsiding as she turned to face the ceiling. "What a lovely room", her smile dropped knowing that she couldn't afford to waste money on such a place normally.

With a light sigh, she got up to untie her corset, wondering what the point of dressing extra classy was if she was going to be in her underwear most of the time.

The dress slid down easily, revealing her curvy butt, covered by lacy black underwear. She was a small woman of about five feet, three inches tall, slender, but not enough to be called skinny.

She tied her shoulder-length brown hair into a bun before undoing her matching black bra. After taking out a small bottle of alcohol from her bag, she gulped down half its contents before walking to the bathroom.

The insides were just as elegant as the rest of the room and she spent the next half an hour taking a soak in the tub before stepping out.

It was odd finding her room in darkness and she simply assumed the light switch was faulty since the air conditioning was still working.

Scanning her thoughts to recall the location of the light switch, she made her way toward the door.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my suite?". A deep, hoarse voice asked from the side of the room, startling her.

Veronica froze for a moment, then hastily rushed towards the light switch by the entrance. Before her fingers could even graze the switch, the man moved to grip her wrist.

She could feel a gun pressing firmly into the side of her throat. Gulping, she gave her fake name, "Diane...Lambert". The words hung in the tense air.

"Who the hell are you?", His voice pierced the air, stern and demanding, as he made it clear that this was her last chance to answer.

"It's...Veronica. Veronica Miller", she spoke slowly, feeling the pressure of the gun on her neck, sore and cold.

The man jerked back almost immediately and Veronica felt an ache in her chest as her breathing continued to grow erratic. She stuttered sideways, stumbling into the coat rack as her towel slid down—although it was the least of her worries.

"My...meds", she struggled to breathe, making it seem as though she was having a cardiac arrest.

His dark eyes watched her from the darkness as she continued to grip her neck, gasping for air. "I can't...breathe!", the words came out choked as she outstretched an arm towards the man, too dark to notice the frown on his lips. "Kkh! Help!".

At those words, he made his way toward her, wrapping a hand behind her head before attempting to administer CPR. He wasn't sure why he was trying to help her, but his intended CPR administration gradually turned into a kiss—as if to calm her.

This wasn't the first time she was having one of her panic attacks, but she'd always thought only her meds could help. Yet there was something about this man kissing her that calmed her.

Veronica kissed back.

His tongue traced her bottom lip, inviting her to open her mouth further before slipping his tongue past her teeth. His other hand caressed her face gently and she let out a low whimper.

Her trembling had already subsided by the time she slid her hands over his shoulders.

He groaned at the taste of alcohol on her lips, mixing with the liquor flavour in his—almost intoxicatingly. She might have been drunk, but he assumed she was hired by Diane Lambert to serve as his woman for the night.

But why would Diane go out of her way to help him find a replacement when their relationship had ended on bad terms?

"Woman", he broke the kiss without taking his forehead away from hers. "Are you here for the job?".

"Job?", Veronica hiccuped, feeling her self-awareness gradually fading into the back of her mind. "I am", she replied recalling she'd come for a job.

"Good". He pulled her to his chest before touching her cheek. "I prefer to skip the foreplay if you don't mind".

"Play? Who's playing?", she hiccuped in protest.

His eyes narrowed in the darkness as he ignored her comment, lifting her up with both arms and carrying her to the bed.