CLEANER: Chapter Four - Part Five

MELISSA

I left the key card to my room with the man from the bar and went up to wait for him. I wanted to shower and make myself more presentable so I told him to wait thirty minutes before he climbed up to the penthouse. I was expecting Dahlia in the afternoon but we would have plenty of time before that.

I dipped in the shower quickly and left my hair curly and damp as I put on a sheer summer dress with a halter neck. Because of all the swimming my shoulders and arms were becoming wonderfully toned. This showed them off nicely. With that on I did my make-up quickly and efficiently until I stood there in front of the tall mirror, admiring myself.

It wasn’t just the sight of me that was altering my perception of myself. I could see how much slimmer and firmer I was now. It was the subtle and continuous changes in the way that other people acted around me: comments they made, like the compliments that Ambrus had paid me, the second look that men and women gave me, especially the hotel staff who, like Ambrus, had witnessed my rapid transformation across a continuum of time; the attentions and interest of this man. The way I saw myself was being altered by the reflections coming from others, and as it did so, my confidence was growing.

At first I had a sense of purpose and the knowledge of my assumed control of the money and over what happened to Dahlia, but this was different. This was a confidence in myself that I had never possessed before; a belief suddenly that I of all people could capture the treasure that was physical beauty and hold onto it; something I could never have believed was possible.

But I was becoming beautiful. Sort of. My facial features were still a little bland and my weight had a way to go, but I was a thousand leagues further down that path than I ever could have reached on my own.

A light knocking came on the door out of the suite and the lock buzzed as the man from the bar activated the key card. My whole body was flushed with nerves but I told myself to quiet. I wasn’t that silly fat woman Melissa Chapman anymore. She was out of sight and beneath my notice. I was Dahlia Western now. I was rich and slimmer and sexy. This man had approached me. He wanted me. Me!

“You weren’t kidding about it being the penthouse,” he said. “My room’s on the first floor. It’s a cupboard compared to this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sure. I mean wow!”

I smiled. ”Let me give you the tour.”

He followed me as I took him from room to room and out on the balcony and it almost made me laugh how tactile he was, how close he came to me as we moved. He clearly wanted nothing more than to get down to doing the dirty. I liked that. I had little interest in engaging in a long conversation and didn’t feel as equipped as I would like to be to engage in such a thing. I wasn’t used to flirting with men.

I saw the wedding ring on his finger and it shocked me at first before I reminded myself that I didn’t want a romance. I only wanted a shag. After living with my husband Robert for so long I felt I needed one.

Robert. How did I feel about him now? Was I really going to casually throw away the fidelity of our marriage so casually; with so little forethought?

The man stroked the nape of my neck with his fingertip, running it down to my back and I turned suddenly, taking his face in my hands and kissing him hard on the lips.

Yes. Yes I was. Robert could hang for all I cared. He had mistreated me for far too long for me to care about him anymore. As far as I was concerned, I never wanted to see him again.

The kiss was penetrating but ever-fluctuating, as the man turned his head one way and the other, urgently pressing his tongue between my lips. For a moment it was too much but then a click came and I relaxed into it. He kissed my neck and I let out a gasp of pent-up release.

Had I ever felt such passion and desire? Perhaps as a teenager?

No. I hadn’t. Not like this.

He pulled at my dress and I snatched at his short sleeved shirt, exposing his tanned chest with its densely curled thatch of blond hair. I kissed his chest, working down to his nipple and biting it hard enough to make him groan. We went back against the open balcony door and he popped out one of my breasts, nuzzling in softly, moaning with desire.

I wanted to cry out, Yes! At last! This is what I deserve! But I didn’t. He closed his mouth over mine again and we went down on the floor there at the mouth of the balcony, the perfect blue sky stretching out above us.

He was gentle and kind but he wanted me with the passion of a young man. I let him take what he wanted, relaxing into the intense build-up of pleasure.

This was the life I wanted, now and forever. This was me now. This was who I am.

And thinking that made me realise that I couldn’t give this up; not ever.

Not.

Ever.

The man scratched my sides and I squealed with excitement, throwing back my head as he buried his head in my stomach and started to work his way down.

There could only be one Dahlia Western and that had to be me.

I had to do everything in my power to make that happen.

I had to take the life that must surely now be meant for me.