Hotel

Brooke hated that she was staring. But she couldn't stop herself. She was almost a thousand percent sure he was exactly who she thought he was... but why in Atlanta? Why at this hotel?

"You can take over the table if you want, you know." Her co-worker Priyaa came up behind her. "It's obvious you're into him. And I'm about to leave anyway."

Brooke turned to look at her friend. She cut her eyes. "I'm not into him... I just think he's famous." She pulled out her phone and held it up for Priyaa. "I'm just not sure it's him."

Priyaa's eyes narrowed and Brooke watched them shift from the screen to the lounge seating in front of them. The look on her face seemed to confirm what Brooke had been thinking for the last hour. "If it isn't him, he has an identical twin wandering the hotel bars of Atlanta." Her co-worker smiled suddenly. "Just go over there, get an up-close look, and introduce yourself."

Brooke's stomach flipped at the thought of Priyaa's words. Go over there?

Evan Peters was not someone Brooke could just walk over to. If in fact, the pale blonde boy with the mussed up hair across the room was Evan Peters.

Brooke had spent most of her afternoons off taking in all of the seasons of American Horror Story on Netflix. She had fallen in love with the idea of Tate and his ridiculously deep and longing love and Kit's dedication. She knew that no actor was one hundred percent of the characters they played, but if Evan was even an eighth of his on-screen personas Brooke would be happy. His looks didn't hurt either.

There was no way she could just saunter over there and take his drink order like she didn't know who he was.

Plus, he wasn't alone. Evan sat in a single chair, but adjacent to him was a younger-looking brunette and an older man wearing glasses. The table in front of them was scattered with a few packets of paper and legal pads. Maybe scripts?

Or maybe not. Her mind was obviously deeply in favor of this being Tate Langdon.

"He's drinking Jameson, neat. In case you're wondering." Priyaa was on the other side of the bar now. She poured the brown liquid into a rocks glass and slid it across the bar to Brooke. "The other two have waters, and I just topped them off. I'm sure he's finished by now." Priyaa smiled. "You're welcome."

Brooke rolled her eyes. She turned to look at herself in one of the huge wall-length mirrors that surrounded the bar. She pulled down the hem of her dress as much as she could and ran a hand through her wavy black hair. A little bit too much of her dark caramel-colored skin was showing, but there was really nothing she could do. She worked at Bar eleven, a high-end cocktail lounge in the Lowes Hotel in Midtown Atlanta. Black body-conscious mini dresses and sky-high heels were a mandatory part of her work attire. It was normally something she loathed, but if she had to meet Evan Peters tonight at least she would look sexy doing it.

She took a deep breath and picked up the whiskey cocktail. She silently prayed that she wouldn't wobble or fall on her journey across the room and began walking towards the group.

As Brooke neared, her heart began to beat faster. Definitely Evan Peters. There was no mistaking him. He wore a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and dark denim tucked into brown boots. His dark blonde hair was perfectly disheveled and now that she was closer, she could hear him speak. Definitely the same voice that had promised Violet forever.

"Jameson, neat?" Brooke smiled weakly and waited for an acknowledgment. Evan turned and looked at her. He stared, mouth agape for a few moments. Then spoke.

"Yeah, that's me." He was still staring. The self-consciousness started to set in. Either Brooke had a foot growing from her forehead or he was deeply confused as to why she had just interrupted their conversation. Neither was good.

In-person, the intensity of his eyes was almost frightening. Definitely unreadable. Watching him on screen at home in her pajamas, she could handle the emotions in them, but in person, his eyes bore into her making her feel deeply unsure of herself.

She awkwardly bent over setting the drink in front of him, suddenly feeling really overexposed. She stepped back and pulled again at her too-short hem. She watched Evan's eyes focus on the skin she was covering. Forget what she had thought earlier. She hated the dress code. "I'm sorry to interrupt... just seeing if you guys need anything else?"

The man and woman shook their heads and let her know they were fine. But a slow smile crept over Evan's face. This look was vastly different than the one he gave her at first. "What happened to the other girl?"

"Oh, she just got off... unfortunately, you're stuck with me."

He put his hand out towards her. "I'm Evan."

She reached out and shook his hand. His touch surprised her, as did their eye contact. "I know."

What? She did not just say that. Evan still held her hand as he let out a small laugh. She panicked. "I mean. Yeah, I thought you looked familiar... I love your show. Your characters are so amazing."

"Thank you... but what's your name?" The playful look that he was giving her made her the kind of nervous that you felt when you walked by a group of boys in high school. And he was still holding her hand.

"Brooke. Brooke Garrett."

"It's nice to meet you, Brooke." He finally let go. "I think we are good for now."

Brooke glanced at his companions. They all seemed to be waiting for her to leave. She smiled and retreated slowly back to the bar, feeling dismissed. The entire excruciatingly awkward scene left her feeling a little confused. And unsatisfied. For a moment, it had almost seemed like he was interested? The intense eye contact and lingering handshake...

She looked back at their table and saw the three were deeply immersed in conversation again.

Ok. Maybe her mind was doing too much.

She decided to start her side work to take her mind off of Evan and her embarrassment. They were her last table, so until they needed another drink, she didn't have much to do. She moved behind the bar and kneeled down to start organizing glasses.

She mentally chastised herself for briefly thinking that she and Evan had shared a connection. What did she think? One intense handshake and her interracial groupie fantasy would become true? And yes, his on-screen wife was black... but who knew if his willingness to swirl was real or just acting?

Hopefully, they would be gone soon. Her earlier moment of word vomit replayed in her head over and over again. She silently prayed that whatever brought him to her bar and her city would take him away just as suddenly.

She stood quickly to check on her last table again. And stood face to face with Evan Peters.

"Hi, Brooke."

"Hi." She was so surprised that she wasn't sure if her words were even audible. "Did you need another drink?"

He shook his head. "When do you usually get out of here?"

"In an hour." Brooke watched him nod. Standing, he was a lot taller than she thought. He towered over her five-foot frame, in heels.

"Do you have plans after work?"

She shook her head. His hand moved across the bar and covered hers. "I wish that we could talk now... there is a lot I want to say, but I have my managers here with me." He squeezed her hand. "But tonight, if you don't mind coming to my room... we can really talk."

"Your room?" She was fairly sure she asked this out of shock. Because she had heard him and understood exactly what he was asking her.

"I'm staying here, at the Lowes." Still holding her hand, he gestured upward with his eyes. "2406... okay?"

Brooke nodded slowly and tried to stay calm despite the fact that every part of her was buzzing. "Okay," she said quietly.

He smiled. "Don't be nervous." He squeezed her hand and let go. She watched him turn and walk back to his group. Once he took a seat, she took her first breath.

This would be the longest hour of her life.

----------------

Brooke stared at the numbers '2406' for almost three minutes before she even thought about knocking. What was she doing?

At the end of her shift, she watched Evan and his group retreat towards the lobby of the hotel. She assumed the whole group was staying there and wondered for a moment what his managers would think of the late-night "get to know you" session Evan had invited her too.

She looked herself over a final time before she turned off the bar lights and started making her journey up to the 24th floor.

She had tried to convince herself the entire elevator ride up that she wasn't nervous. But as the numbers climbed her heart began to beat faster.

Before she could even get a chance to knock, the door opened. Evan stood in front of her, silver ice pail in hand. He smiled. "You came. I was afraid I creeped you out."

"I was just about to knock." He stepped back into the room and held the door open for her. Brooke followed him into the suite, taking note that he now wore only a dark pair of loose sweats with a freshly showered sheen to his skin. Once inside, she scanned the large room, deciding it safest to stand near the end of his bed.

"Is it weird to ask the bartender if she wants a drink?" Evan had moved over to a bar area in the room and his hands were moving between a few bottles. "When you knocked, I was on my way to grab ice, so I guess it's warm liquor for us."

He moved towards her, a glass of amber liquid in each hand. She took it, downing it eagerly and immediately wincing at the burn that scorched her throat. She probably looked over eager but needed to calm her nerves a bit. The fact that she was actually in the same room as Evan Peters was only just hitting her.

Evan still stood in front of her, glass perched at the smirk playing at his lips. He was obviously humored by how quickly she drank down her whiskey. "Are you nervous?"

He was edging close to her as he spoke. Taking slow sips. She looked up at him, taking in his towering frame from this angle. "Yes, honestly."

"You don't have to be." He still moved in slow steps towards her, only stopping when her back hit the coolness of the wall behind her. He set his drink on the table beside them. "You are in control." He was a breath away from her now, and Brooke pitched forward anticipating his lips but was surprised by his hands pulling at the hem of her dress. He pulled it up around her body and over her head.

She quickly found his hands on her, gripping the flesh of her hips. His lips landed at the skin behind her ear, and she breathed in the clean woody scent of him. Evan kissed down her neck, only stopping at her throat briefly to bite and suck at the sensitive skin there. He held her firmly as his lips feathered against the most sensitive parts of her breasts. She still wore her lacy black bra and her body shuddered at the feeling of his warm breaths through the fabric.

At her navel, Evan's tongue dipped down into it, swirling his tongue around as his fingers tips bore into her flesh. She felt his fingers trail down her sides, hooking the lace of her thong around his thumbs snatching her panties around her knees.

Brooke gasped and looked down to see Evan Peters grinning up at her. His full lips were wet and blond hair mussed. This was still so surreal. She only had a second to think before she felt his breath hot against the smooth skin between her thighs. Her pussy throbbed as she felt his mouth hover over the top of her mound. His lips and tongue pressed her lips apart, sucking when they found the tiny bud of nerves within them.

Brooke bucked harshly, her hands instinctively weaving her fingers through his hair and harshly tugging the strands. Evan growled, leaning into her hand, urging her to pull his hair again. He sucked her clit hard, licking tight circles around it, causing Brooke to press back into the wall and grab a fist full of Evan's blond locks. He heard and felt him groan against her pussy.

"You like that?" Brooke asked between gasps. He greedily ate her now, sucking up all of the wetness that leaked from her slit. He nodded in answer to her question, not stopping his assault on her. The confirmation sent a little buzz through Brooke. She felt sexy and powerful. The groans that would escape him every time she pulled his face deeper into her sex were driving her crazy.

"You want to make me cum all over your face?" Brooke sighed the words out, feeling the chills of her approaching orgasm prickle her. Evan nodded hard, his mouth still sucking at her soaking cunt. She nodded, eyes closed, and lifted her hands to her covered tits. She snatched the fabric off of them, quickly pinching and rolling her hard nipples between her fingers. She shook and shivered at the feeling of his hard sucking on her clit and the intense pleasure from her nipples. The heat of her orgasm crept up her body as he continued licking her, and as the intense feeling rocked her core she bucked hard against his mouth, once again grabbing a fistful of his hair pulling him closer to her.

He moaned as he lapped up her wetness, grabbing her hips and bending down to gain better access to her opening. He was insatiable, and greedily tasted her pussy and inner thighs. Brooke was still so sensitive from coming but the way he was worshipping her was driving her crazy.

She pulled at his hair again, forcing him to stop his motions and look up at her. He stared up at her, a lazy satiated grin across his face. His tongue flicked out, tasting the wetness she had left on his lips. "Why did you stop me?"

"I want something else..."

Evan stood slowly, body still close to hers. He bent down again, lips so close she felt his breath. His tongue darted out, running along her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. Brooke moaned, body arching into his. "Take what you want."

Emboldened, Brooke slipped her hand between them, firmly running her palm along the hard length straining against Evan's sweats. He groaned as she softly stroked him, reveling in his girth and the droplets that leaked from the head, soaking the fabric.

She kneeled slowly, pulling the sweats he wore from his waist as she dropped to her knees. His long member bobbing out of the fabric, beckoning her.

Brooke made a small gasp. She had felt him in her hand but uncovered, the size of him was impressive. Recovering from her shock quickly, she wrapped a small hand around the base of him. Grip tightening, she began stroking him slowly and she placed small kisses across the flesh of his pelvis. Brooke shamelessly inhaled his scent as his pubic hair tickled her nose.

Her kisses became wetter and included more tongue as she made her way to his balls. She darted her tongue out, softly taking them into her mouth as she increased the speed of her stroke on his cock.

Evan leaned back into the wall groaning as she let her thumb brush over his cleft as she stroked him.

"Please suck it." Evan's voice strained. "Please."

At his begging, Brooke felt her pussy pulse. She knew there was probably a puddle beneath her. But she shook her head. She was in control of this.

She released his balls from her mouth, moving up to draw the tip of her tongue up the seam of his cock. She only licked and sucked when she tasted the salty pre-cum at his tip. Brooke continued her small kisses all over his erection, only being egged on by his pleading pants. She could see his hands flexing against the wall and she knew he wished he could use them to force himself down her throat, but he resisted taking command.

Her mouth was nearly watering when she finally took him all the way in her mouth. She slowly swallowed all of him, gag reflex nowhere in sight. She would be lying if impressing her celebrity crush wasn't a huge part of the driving force she felt to perform well. But she also loved every part of this. Pleasing came naturally to her.

Brooke increased her speed, encouraging Evan to fuck her throat by reaching behind him and digging her nails into the muscles of his ass.

A deep guttural groan was the only warning Brooke had before Evan slid himself out of her mouth. He quickly and easily lifted her from the floor, almost throwing her onto the bed. He fell down on top of her, mouth crashing into hers. The kiss was urgent and needy, with Evan stopping to kiss her softly on the lips and face between deep wet tongue kisses. His passion surprised Brooke.

With one hand, he reached to stroke his own manhood between them. His fist brushed against her inner thigh, causing her to part her legs.

"You want to fuck me, Evan?"

The words came out desperately and in a near whisper, words accompanied by Brooke's hands coming up to rest on his back. She dug her nails deeply into the flesh there.

"Please let me fuck you."

Brooke nodded as she kissed him again, moving her hips up towards his and urging him inside of her.

He didn't need more encouragement. He settled between her thighs, the head of his cock pressing at her soaking opening. As he slid in, white-hot sparks of pleasure and pain flashed behind her closed lids. Brooke knew she was marking his skin with the way she was digging her nails into him, but she couldn't help it.

"Are you ok?"

Brooke opened her eyes, meeting Evan's concerned ones. She nodded, pulling him back down into a kiss as Evan slid the rest of his girth into her slowly.

He pulsed for a moment before slowly moving in and out of her. She felt herself opening for him with each stroke. He held her hips as he increased his speed, fingertips digging into her flesh as each thrust.

"Fuck." He pulled up from her and moved to hold her hips. His eyes scanned her body, resting on watching his cock slide in and out of her. "You are so fucking wet."

She was. Brooke watched him as he pounded into her. If it wasn't for the intense pleasure coursing through her, she would probably still be in complete shock at the fact that someone she spent several nights watching on Netflix was currently fucking the shit out of her. His eyes and hair were wild, biting his bottom lip and obviously on the edge of losing control.

"Stop."

Evan's response was immediate. He slid out of her, quickly moving to stand at the edge of the bed. Confusion all over his face. "What's wrong?"

Brooke sat up and moved up onto her knees, crawling to meet him. She answered by engulfing him in her mouth, swallowing him to his root as a gasp turned moan left his mouth. She could taste herself on his dick, the idea of Evan fucking Peters getting her this wet only making her ache to have him back inside of her.

As she sucked him, she felt his hand touch her neck softly. She looked up at him meeting his eyes. They shared a few seconds of eye contact before he groaned loudly. "You want to swallow me?"

His words were tense, voice tight. She did want to, but she wanted something else more.

Brooke slowly pulled his cock from her throat. Slick with wetness from her mouth, a bead of saliva dripped on her chest causing Evan to mutter "Fuck," before he grabbed himself and began stroking.

"Don't you dare." Brooke's words were a warning, the dominant streak she was riding returning quickly. "Come here."

Brooke walked past him, leaving the bedroom area and crossing out in the living room of the suite. Evan stood back watching, hand now at his sides. She pulled the curtains open, exposing the city view glittering evening lights of midtown Atlanta. There was only one building close enough to see them, but only a few windows remained lit. It was dark enough outside that Brooke could see her own reflection in the window as well. She watched in the window as Evan moved towards her. As he wrapped his hands around her waist, she lifted her arms Joining both palms flat on the glass. She spread her legs and reached a hand back to pull Evan closer to her.

"You don't care if anyone sees?" He held himself now, looking down as he stroked and lined himself up at her entrance.