Falling for the Bad Boy

At the Fairleigh Hotel, Ruby Bell had just finished tidying up a guestroom when her radio crackled with the manager's voice. "Ruby, head to room 2008 and change the sheets and duvet cover." "Got it. On my way." Without hesitation, Ruby pushed her housekeeping cart toward room 2008. She rang the doorbell—no response. The guest must have already left. Swiping her keycard, she stepped inside and was immediately hit by a lingering, intoxicating scent. Clothes were strewn across the floor, a chaotic mess of fabric. Her cheeks warmed involuntarily. It didn't take much imagination to guess what had transpired here. Shaking off her wandering thoughts, she took a deep breath, opened the windows, and got to work. Most of the scattered clothing belonged to a man—dress shirts, trousers, socks. The only female item was a pair of torn stockings, the jagged tear bearing the unmistakable mark of wild passion. Ruby carefully gathered the clothes and hung them neatly before heading to the bedroom. The heavy curtains blocked out all light, except for the faint glow seeping from the bathroom. Flipping the switch, she took in the disarray—a bed in complete ruin, pillows and blankets sprawled on the floor, sheets twisted in knots. She suppressed the heat creeping up her neck and began restoring order. Just then, the sound of running water caught her attention. She froze, instinctively turning toward the en-suite bathroom. The door was wide open. A figure stood under the cascading shower, oblivious to her presence. Ruby's breath hitched. She should turn away. She should leave immediately. And yet, her gaze was drawn to him like a moth to flame. The man inside had no idea someone else had entered the room. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, stretching his arms back in a casual, effortless motion. Water cascaded down his sculpted arms, tracing the firm curves of his shoulders, streaming over the taut muscles of his back before flowing down his powerful thighs and finally vanishing into the drain. Though his back was turned to her, Ruby felt as if she could clearly see what lay beyond—his chiseled chest, defined abs, and those sharp, irresistible V-lines... She was going to combust. Her heart pounded so fiercely that she was certain he could hear it. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to flee, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. Then, suddenly, the man turned. His body was even more breathtaking than she had imagined—broad chest, perfectly sculpted abs, and that maddeningly sharp V-line leading lower... But what truly shocked her was his face. Bill Jones. Kingston University's golden boy. Heir to a billion-dollar empire. A man so unattainable, he might as well exist in a different universe. And now, here he was, standing stark naked before her, a vision of masculine perfection. Ruby's survival instincts finally kicked in. She spun on her heel, ready to bolt—but in her panic, she hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Bill blinked through the dimness, still dazed from alcohol. His body burned with residual heat, his mind hazy. And then he saw her. Without warning, he strode out of the bathroom, water dripping from his skin as he reached for her. "Going somewhere?" His voice was a low rumble. "Didn't you want this?" Ruby's breath hitched as he pulled her flush against his damp, feverish body. His chest was hard and warm against her back, his grip firm yet unrelenting. 'Oh my God. He can't read minds, can he?!' Her body betrayed her, heat spreading like wildfire. A part of her screamed to break free. Another whispered... "Why not?" Bill buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. "It's so hot in here. Don't you feel it?" His lips brushed her ear, sending shivers down her spine. One arm tightened around her waist, the other tugging at the zipper of her uniform, pulling it down in one swift motion. His scent mesmerized him—subtler and more alluring than any overpowering perfume. He greedily trailed kisses down her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her bare shoulder, his touch a mix of hunger and tenderness. Ruby teetered between reason and surrender. A war raged inside her—one voice pleading "No", the other whispering "Why not lose yourself? Just this once..." Bill's desire consumed him, his hands roaming. His lips marked every inch of her skin, his breath heavy with intoxication. The faint, irresistible fragrance of her body only deepened his intoxication. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed. Sheets tangled, breaths mingled, and the night swallowed them whole. Ruby had never felt anything like this before—foreign, overwhelming, electric. It unsettled her, yet soon she was drowning in waves of pleasure. "I love the way you smell, Kelly..." Bill murmured against her skin, his voice thick with drunken affection. The name snapped Ruby back to reality like a slap to the face. Kelly? Her mind reeled—he had mistaken her for someone else. This... this was all a mistake! Bill, oblivious, trembled above her, sweat rolling from his temple, down his neck, dripping onto her face, mingling with the silent tears slipping from her eyes and soaking into the sheets below. "Damn it..." He let out a strained groan, collapsing onto her, his breath hot against her cheek. His body radiated heat, pressing her into the mattress as he absently brushed his lips over her cheek, his fingers tracing her face. "You're crying... why?" His voice was hushed, almost puzzled. But she didn't answer. Bill wanted to press her for an explanation, but his body was betraying him—his head spun, his limbs heavy. Sleep overtook him before he could hold on to consciousness. As his breaths evened out, Ruby carefully pushed him away. Every movement was an effort, her body aching, her mind still in turmoil. Then, she pulled herself up and left.