Page 13 of Warmer, Colder

“Too bad for you, I’m not giving you much of a choice.” Nate’s strong hand tightens around my wrist until perspiration coats my brow with the exertion it takes not to make a sound or let a single tear fall. My teeth grind together so harshly that I fear they’ll crack. Only then do I meet his eyes. “Don’t fucking test me, Becca,” he seethes. “If you don’t watch your mouth, I’m going to bend you over this desk and really give you something to cry about.” When I don’t make another retort, he finally releases me and then shoves a plastic bag into my arms. “This is what you’re wearing. Be there before eleven.” Pointing his finger at me he raises his brow. “If you’re not there, I’m showing everyone the tape.”

“Wait. No. We had a—,” He’s moving toward the door before I’m able to object any further.Not that it would do any good.“Fucking asshole,” I growl under my breath when the door finally closes behind him.

With shaking hands, I clean up my desk, saving the beautiful textured paper for last. Rubbing my finger across the delicate leaves fused with the pulp, I read the words again, ‘stand to face me beloved’ and oh, how I wish I could now more than ever.

What I wouldn’t give to have someone worship me with tender words instead of the hissing insults and belligerent commands I’m trying to become numb to. The problem is, I have no idea who could be sending these letters.Who’d want someone like me?

Chapter 6

Stasi

October 31, 2014 – Halloween – 2 Days till Death

Writing anyone other than Becca’s name on my skin is painful, but I’m nothing if not committed to perfectly executing Halloween costumes—it’s a sacred art. From the ‘Tiff’ necklace and mole, to the way I’ve tucked my hair to appear shorter. The slip I’m substituting for the wedding dress might be atadshorter, but it works. I did the best I could with such last-minute notice. It was a lucky coincidence that I was sitting outside Becca’s window eavesdropping on her conversation with her mom.

The candles flicker on the altar.Thank you, Aphrodite.

I’m not quite ready just yet, so I take a seat at my vanity and pick up my tarot cards. While I shuffle with practiced fingers, I hum along with Melissa Etheridge’s iconic voice. The gilded edges reflect the candlelight as I pull three cards. Any remaining unease about going to the frat party tonight slips away when I reveal The Star upright, followed by the Six of Wands upright, and finally, the Two of Cups upright. A tingle of anticipation courses through me at all the signs pointing to good things on the horizon.

Tonight isthenight. And just to be sure, I’m bringing a trusted friend for good luck. Reaching out my window into the large planter box that hangs from it, I grab the jars of sex toys that I charged under the moon last night. Brushing away the dirt, I open each jar and pull out an amethyst wand, a strap-on dildo, and my handy fingertip vibrator—thankfully waterproof. The vibe is the only thing coming with me, but there’s no harm in being prepared for other activities when Becca could very well be coming home with me.

A rush of adrenaline spikes within me. Is this that Christmas Eve feeling everyone with normal families talks about?

I’m anxious to get to the party, to see my girl, but I don’t want to be standing around with nothing to do. The last thing I want is to talk to anyone. Checking the clock, I decide to kill a little more time with a ritual.

I sprawl out on my bed, part my legs, and bring the toy to life. The low buzz of the vibrator drowns out the quiet music as I slip my finger beneath my panties, concentrating the toy on my clit, while my other hand teases my center. With intent focus, I replace my surroundings with the fantasy I invoke into fruition.

I’ll walk Becca through it; she hasn’t ever been with another woman. She’ll need a bit of encouragement, but I know she’ll be a natural once she gets over her own hang-ups.

“Becca,” I moan. “Touch me right there, baby.” My middle finger teases my entrance. “Yeah, just like that, ease yourself on in. I’m ready for you” Her elegant hands will look so lovely exploring my cunt. “That feels amazing, the way you’re working my needy pussy.” I pump in and out in tandem with my vibrating pointer finger that moves in circles. “Go ahead and add another finger.” My right pointer finger slips inside me. “Fuck into me just like that. You’re doing so good, Angel.”

My hips arch off the bed, and I suck in a breath as I ratchet up the vibration level. “That’s it. Faster. Harder. Show me who thispussy belongs to. Make me say your name.” My back bows and my toes curl. “Yes, yes, yes…” I’m so close. I add more pressure against my clit as I move my fingers faster. “Oh, fuck, shit, Becca,” I yelp as words fail me, and I’m only able to moan out my orgasm.

Once I’ve collected myself and cleaned the toy, I lace up my black combat boots and pull on the leather jacket that completes the look from the movie, then give a spin in the mirror.It’s perfect.

Now, to confront my fear of going to a frat party. The things I do for love.

Chapter 7

Becca

October 31st, 2014 – Halloween – 40 Days till Death

It’s now or never.

My pulse pounds against my skin in a frantic drum beat that scatters all coherent thoughts as I act on pure instinct. As soon as Nate’s attention is diverted, I make a break for it and slip through the crowd of costumed partygoers grinding on each other. Just a few more feet to go, then I’ll be hidden away behind a door and a lock.

I know it’s not enough to stop Nate if he wants to get to me, but I’m hoping his reputation will be more important to him than causing a scene that’ll have too many people asking questions. He’s already belligerent and I just got here. It’s bad enough on one of his ‘good nights’ when he’s at least got some sense to show some restraint. I don’t want to find out what it’ll be like with him out of control.All of themout of control.Hiding in here is the best chance of protecting myself.

Planting my palms on the bathroom counter that’s miraculously clean for a fraternity, I suck in uneven breaths. The cool stone grounds me and gives me something stable to lean on, while I try my best not to unravel in public.

With my breathing under control, I chance a look at my reflection and resist the urge to flinch away from what I see there. Almost every inch of my body is on display in the tiny outfit—more like lingerie—Nate insisted I wear.

His satisfied words stick with me like eager maggots burrowed into my skin.There’s my princess.

I’m not sure what the worst part is… the obnoxious crown pinned to the top of my head, or the sad excuse for a dress. The pink ruffle-y skirt skims the very top of my thighs, barely covering my panties—the full-coverage pair I picked out, not the G-string it came with—and the white bodice is so thin that it’s virtually see-through. The entire ensemble, or lack thereof, is only held up by skinny straps that would tear with one hard yank.Will I walk out of here in anything tonight?My threadbare ego hopes so.

The glass bottle I’ve carried in heretinkssharply as I twist it to reveal the alcohol content. The high percentage makes my insides squirm. I’m the definition of a lightweight, but it’s my only hope.My saving grace.Or it’s supposed to be. If I drink this, at least there’s a better chance I won’t remember all the ways they defile my body. At least there’s some chance I can hold my sanity together a little longer until I figure out how to get myself out of this situation for good.

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