“Okay. Make a fist.” He instructed. I did as I was told, holding out my arm to him and tightening my muscles. Slowly, the veins in my arm stood out, not as much as with the elastic, but enough to make it work. Even knowing how good the heroin would feel, I couldn’t help but cower at the sight of the needle in his capable hand.
“Its okay, Mackenzie.” Grey’s voice was low and melodic, soothing. I kept my gaze on his, refusing to look down. “You’ll barely notice.”
Even so, I shut my eyes. Slowly and gently, he grasped my arm in his warm hands. I held my breath. I felt a tiny prick, the slightest of pinches in my elbow pit.
“It’s in. Look, Mackenzie. Watch this.”
The power Grey had over me was phenomenal. I actually opened my eyes and stared down at the needle breaking through my skin, the sharp steel cold against my flesh. I watched as Grey retracted the plunger, as my blood filled the syringe, mixing with the heroin, bright red blood dancing with the dark drugs, curling and twisting around each other. I was still staring, transfixed, as Grey shot the drugs straight into my veins.
It was even better than I remembered, even better than hours before. I gasped shakily as it took me, the sheer pleasure rocketing through my body until I couldn’t take it anymore, slackening back against the bed.
I still don’t know how to describe it properly. InTrainspotting, Renton says, “Take the best orgasm you ever had, multiply it by a thousand and you’re still nowhere near it.”
He was right. That kind of pleasure isn’t something you can just imagine. Unless you’ve done heroin, there’s no way you to know how good it feels. There aren’t words to describe the bliss, the euphoria, the utter…nothingness.
Grey shot up beside me. He fell back against the bed, his face deep with pleasure, close enough to mine that I could stare right into it. His beautiful, gorgeous, perfect face. For me, it didn’t get any better than that.
Life was perfect. Everything I could ever ask for. Everything I’d been searching for.
I smiled as the waves crashed over me.
CHAPTER 49
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I smiled at Grey in the mirror, looking over my shoulder, his blue eyes watching me as his lips pressed against my neck. I groaned and leaned back against him.
“I have to go to work.” I sighed. “Not all of us can be rock stars, you know.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Some rock star. I doubt there’s ever been a rock star in history as broke as me.”
“Maybe not.” I shrugged, encouragingly. “But you won’t be for long.”
“Yeah,” Grey mumbled, bending to kiss me again. I felt his pain. I was seriously strapped for cash. All our money had gone to the weekend…the perfect, blissfully high weekend that went by all too fast, eating up the rest of my tip money and whatever cash Grey had in the bank. I didn’t want to go to work, not at all, but I had to make some tips or we’d be SOL for the evening’s habits.
Grey insisted we slow down the heroin use since that was basically all we’d done the last few days. I was settling for cocaine, but it was way more expensive than heroin, and would probably take up whatever tips I made that night. I bit my lip in thought. I really needed more money.
My rent was coming up soon, but I didn’t want to think about that.
“You look really pretty.” He pushed my dark hair back from my face and smirked at me in the mirror. “Isn’t this skirt a little…short, though?”
Grey hadn’t been around to witness the transformation of my wardrobe—my necklines getting lower, my skirts shorter, my heels higher. That night, I was wearing a tiny lace miniskirt and a tight white sweater with a plunging neckline. I chose it so the long sleeves to hide the sickly yellow bruise that stained my arm.
“You’ll see when I get home tonight the difference this makes tip-wise.”
“I bet.” He frowned slightly. “I don’t know if I should let you out of the house like this. I don’t like the thought of other guys looking at you.”
I smiled and turned around in his arms, looking up into his gorgeous face. “So what if they look. You’re the only one that gets to touch.” I promised.
That brought the smile back to his eyes. He smirked again and then pulled me up to him, crushing me against his lips.
Charlie found us in this sweet embrace. She cleared her throat impatiently and rapped on my opened bedroom door.
“Comin’ Mac? We’re going to be late.”
“Yeah.” Regretfully, I pulled myself away from him. “I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll be over at my house. Come by when you’re done.”