Inside, the hotel held more gold and mirrors and shiny crystal than Jacob had ever before seen in one place. He was afraid his head would snap clean off his shoulders as it twisted this way and that, trying to take everything in all at once.
"Come, come," Fahd called, motioning toward him. Jacob had fallen behind, gawking at the magnificence of the lobby, and needed to hurry to catch up. Still, with every step something else caught his eye and slowed him again. Standing near the two-story windows there was an enormous vase , gleaming with gold and silver and holding enough red roses to fill a garden. Sleek velvet sofas were scattered about, and there were huge paintings of foreign places on the walls. Men and women in elegant clothing strolled casually through the lobby. Everything drew Jacob's eye.
Fahd looked a little bit annoyed by the time Jacob caught up to him.
"I am sorry," Jacob said sheepishly. He felt uncomfortable, as if caught doing something he shouldn't. "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get."
Fahd blinked, and then laughed, putting Jacob at ease again. "It's all right, my friend. We are in the penthouse suite." He nodded toward another man in a fancy uniform standing just outside an elevator. The man pressed a button on the wall, and a heartbeat later two gilded doors slid silently open. The inside of the elevator looked as rich and gilded as the rest of the hotel.
Jacob followed Fahd into the elevator, so different from the tiny, clanking and clattering one at Jacob's hotel. He'd refused to enter that one at all, preferring to walk the fifteen flights up to his room, but this one looked safe enough. Plus, he didn't want to show his fear in front of Fahd.
The doors slid shut just as quietly and, happily for Jacob, aside from a slight feeling of motion, it was almost as though they weren't moving at all. The doors opened again, this time into a short hallway. There was only one door at the end of it, and it was to this that Fahd led him.
Fahd opened the door and they stepped inside. Jacob was immediately overwhelmed and stood gaping again.
Fahd's suite was by far the most extravagant, sparkling, amazing set of rooms Jacob had ever seen. Every inch seemed to drip velvet, and the suite was filled with furniture in rich, gleaming dark woods. There was even a piano -- a huge, white, gracefully curved instrument that was bigger than Father's plow -- sitting squarely in the middle of the parlor. The only other piano Jacob could recall seeing was the upright in the window of Kurtz's Antique Emporium, down on Main Street in Intercourse. As a boy, Jacob used to like to look at it when he accompanied his father to the feed store in town, but that piano had been nothing compared to this. He resisted the urge to run his fingers along the intriguing, highly polished black and white keys.
Through a pair of tall, gilded doors, Jacob could see Fahd's bedroom. In it was easily the largest bed Jacob had ever seen, and thinking of Fahd sleeping between those shiny, satin sheets made his groin tighten uncomfortably again. He felt himself harden and said a brief prayer that Fahd didn't notice the bulge growing anew at the crotch of his britches.
"Please, make yourself comfortable, Jacob. There is a bar over there against the wall. I wish to change out of these," Fahd said, picking at the folds of his robe. "I will return in a moment."
Jacob swiped his hat from his head as he watched Fahd disappear into his bedroom, then did as Fahd had requested. He placed his hat on the coffee table, sitting down on the wide, soft sofa. Kicking off his shoes and socks, he wiggled his toes in relief. He'd been on his feet all day, and they ached. He carefully tucked his socks into his shoes and set them neatly aside.
Folding his arms behind his head, Jacob closed his eyes as he waited for Fahd to return, and he had nearly nodded off when a low cough roused him. Blinking he lifted his head to see Fahd standing before him.
Fahd was wearing a pair of thin, white silk pants and nothing else.
Jacob felt his heart seize in his chest. Now he knew what Fahd had been hiding under the yards of fabric -- a body that was the stuff of Jacob's dreams.
The light picked out blue highlights in the thick, wavy black hair falling to brush Fahd's broad shoulders, and framed his handsome, regal features. His arms were folded across his chest, arms that bulged with muscle and sinew. His skin was deeply golden and as smooth as silk, except for a dusting of dark hair across his wide chest and a trail of the same that snaked down the middle of his taut abdomen. Jacob's eyes followed the line of hair until it disappeared into the waistband of Fahd's pants, and he found himself yearning to see where it ended.
No doubt it ended at the same place inhabited by the substantial bulge that was clearly outlined by the white silk of Fahd's pants. Everything about Fahd was incredible, impressive, and bigger than life, from the suite and the piano to his erection. Jacob found himself wanting to run his fingers over it even more than he'd wanted to touch the keys of the baby grand piano.
Jacob swallowed hard, feeling his face burn, worrying that Fahd could read his thoughts in his eyes. Och! What must he think of me?