Page 7 of Tricky Girls

‘Nah, you don’t want that. They’ll be getting bristly.’

‘You think I give a fuck?’ As if to demonstrate, she starts running her fingertips up and down my leg.

I go to kick her off but hold myself back. It feels nice and there’s nothing wrong with some innocent stroking, even if it is waking up areas further up.

She holds my eyes, a hint of a challenge in them as she draws higher and higher, skimming over my knee and onto my thigh. I force myself to hold still, jaw clamped. Yeah, shit, it really does feel good now.

‘Let me get you off,’ she whispers.

‘No!’ I yank my foot back but she holds on tight.

‘You want me to, though. You should see your face right now, all tight and pinched like you’re trying to not let yourself get wet.’ She digs a knuckle into the sole of my foot, making me gasp. ‘Not working though, is it?’

I don’t bother denying. Yeah, her stroking’s got me wet. Bodies respond to that kind of thing, it’s automatic. But I know, if I woke up Monday morning with the knowledge that I’d had sex with a girl, I’d be feeling all kinds of weird.

‘Just stick to my feet, Harriet. I’ll take care of the rest later.’

She chuckles, dark eyes rolling back. ‘Fuck, I’d pay to see that.’

I do kick her away then, just as Elly comes padding back down the stairs.

‘Thought you’d passed out,’ Haz says to her.

Elly shakes her head, a tremulous smile on her face. ‘Just had to do a quick tactical chunder. All good now.’

The threat of sobriety has me checking the time on my phone. Well, it’s definitely Monday now and I’ve got about as many bars of battery life as I do signal.

‘You know we’ve all got uni in a few hours.’

Reclaiming my foot, Haz tweaks my toe hard. ‘Party pooper.’

Elly falls on the sofa, her soft bulk warm against me. ‘Crash here if you want. Can all walk in together. I’ll give you a hoodie or something.’

‘Maybe,’ I murmur noncommittally. There’s always been something abhorrent about waking up in a bed that’s not mine. But then I remember Natasha and Ryan and fuck that too.

Eventually Haz’s vigorous massage slows to lazy caresses. She lies on the floor, my foot resting on her stomach, eyes open barely a slit.

A yawn overcomes me as I wiggle deeper into the cushions. This is the part where I should leave but the sound of Elly’s breathing, the warmth of the house, is soothing.

Despite the loud music still playing, I manage to drift off, only coming to at the sound of a door banging. I peer round but Haz and Elly are still crashed out with me. Careful not to jostle either, I find a toilet, struggle with the bodysuit that’s fused to my skin by now, then make my way to the kitchen to chug some water.

Just as I’ve filled a glass, the kitchen light shuts off.

A body fills the doorway.

Not Elly, not Haz. Taller, skinnier, ropey arms stretched above their head to grasp the top of the door frame. Only the vague suggestion of boobs tells me they’re female. I relax, for somereason feeling safer around these girls despite them being as leery as boys.

This one’s dressed up too. In the dim light, Ghostface stares back at me. It’s the only costume piece on them, the rest donned in jeans and a cropped tank baring abs far more sinewy than Haz’s.

Leaning back against the sink, I sip my water. ‘Hey.’

Lanky arms slide off the doorway. My hand tightens on the glass as she strolls towards me. She picks up one of her housemates’ glow sticks from the table, stopping only when she has me pressed up against the sink. Slower than either Haz or Elly, she uses it to tuck back my hair, tracing it down my neck and between my boobs. Her right arm is inked to fuck, the sleeve swirling with skulls and flora. Something glistening on her knuckles snags my attention, the skin on them messed up and weeping.

‘What’s the other guy look like?’

‘Nothing of her left.’

She has a nice voice, low, drawling, sly. Shame she has tits and a vag. I wouldn’t have minded bringing either a purger or Ghostface back to halls to throw in Ryan’s smug little shit face.

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