Page 33 of Vicious Sentiments

Consent. Consent. I’ve never given that, never been asked for it. Never even been given the chance to say no. The notion that this could happen or not depending on what I say gives me a thrill. I can, for once, say no, and it’s the first time I don’t want to say no. I want the orgasm. I want to know what it feels like to have a man’s head between my legs, to hold the power.

I’m torn between both powers. The power or saying no and the power of looking down at him as he licks me, gasping for breath as I wrap my thighs around his neck.

“Tick tock. tick tock. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and I shiver. “You probably taste like innocence,” he groans. “Fair warning though, I might not be able to stop licking you, long after you’ve came on my chin.”

My body jerks involuntarily, a need pushing me closer to him, the idea of his mouth on me.

“That’s it, let me make you come.”

I suck in a breath, my muscles tightening. I want it desperately, but the power he’s giving me is intoxicating and addicting. The ability to walk away and take something he wants with me.

“No,” I whisper, and adrenaline courses through me.

“Are you sure about that?” He slips a hand to the side of my neck, thumb running along my jaw. “I don’t think Julian would mind.”

“No,” I say louder, raising my chin. I can’t help the satisfied smirk playing on my lips.

Cape drops his hand. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” I slip off his jacket and stand, holding it out to him a fingertip.

Chapter Twenty-One

I’m wide awake at eight a.m., waiting for anyone to wake up, my body energetic and antsy. Finally, I hear pop music, distant and matching my mood. I’m giddy, high on power as I follow the music down the hallway. Marney has a blow dryer running and the smell of citrus conditioner wafts my way as I round a corner.

She’s in a fuzzy robe, beauty products scattered on the counter, as she whips a funny looking dryer around her head.

“Oh, my god. Feel!” she yells when she sees me and points the dryer at me. “It’s not as hot right? It’s less damage to your hair!” she exclaims. “It’s totally worth the five-hundred-dollars.”

“I thought Margo said no?” I try to stop my hair from flying all over.

“She just gave it to me, for my recital.” She beams.

“It’s tonight?”

“Yes! You have to come.” She throws the five-hundred-dollar blow dryer onto the counter with a clatter and runs out of the bathroom. “Margo!! We need a ticket for Hailey! She says she’s coming!”

I try to stop a smile as I hear her thumping down the hall. Poor Margo.

I dip my head down, examining the endless products pooling in the sink, and reading the brands—Farmacy, Estee Lauder, Dior, Inkey List, so many names I don’t recognize. Whatabout Covergirl or Loreal?

I sigh at the things I’ve missed out on.

When I turn, Julian is standing in the doorway, watching me.

“Do you want to go shopping?” he asks and motions to the mess. “We can get you whatever you want.”

I snort. “I don’t need these things.” That’s not an offense to Marney, I just wouldn’t even know how to apply most of them.

“I said want, not need.”

A melancholy comes over me as I come down from my power trip. Maybe I am supposed to want makeup, skincare and pretty scented conditioner, but I’m too broken. Fucked up in the head like Cape said.

He said Marney is fucked up too, but from what I can see, at least she didn’t grow up in fear and doesn’t ever have to go through what I went through. She gets worried about things like ballet blow dryers, and who celebrities are dating. I never had that luxury. And I’m not jealous. I’m just sad, suddenly and inexplicably. There was never the time to be sad, to notice the things I was missing out on, when I was constantly trying to survive.

Julian’s brow’s draw together, reading my face, and he steps forward. His arms come out and then hesitate “May I hug you?” he asks.

I nod.

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