A few days had gone by and Carson couldn't get Mr. Armisen off his mind. It was becoming a sick little game of his as he went about his day, imagining the various places he and Armisen could fuck. Maybe after hours in the jacuzzi. Maybe go to town in the elevator. Or maybe right here, in front of everybody, out in the hotel lobby-
"Carson," Clarissa snapped. "You're doing it again."
He blinked. "What?"
"I can tell you're fantasizing about Mr. Armisen," she said smugly.
"Who wouldn't?" Caron said dreamily. "He's a certified stud."
"He's also certified straight," she said.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
She leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Because he has visitors. I see him bring back a different chick to the hotel every night. Just an hour ago, I saw him walk through here with a blonde with huge tits."
She gestured for effect. Huge.
Carson felt his throat run dry. God, what I would give to be that bitch, he thought.
"So get it out of your head," she laughed. "And go to the kitchen, they got a room service order for you."
Carson huffed and slid off the counter, stomping down to the kitchen. There, the cook handed him a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and a bottle of rosΓ©.
"Take this up to the suite on fourteen," the cook said.
Carson froze. "Fourteen?"
"That's what I said, didn't I?"