Page 15 of Heartfelt Pain
“Two hundred quid,” she rats me out to Abe.
“Yeah, but how much are you worth without them on?” He smirks at me.
I flick his ear as I pass into the kitchen. Thank fuck it’s only Abe back here. I don’t think I could take his dad or any of the other workers' jokes if they overheard Isolde and me.
But I’m only halfway through the kitchen when I come to a stop. “You know what. . .”
I’m not sure who I’m talking to—my friends or myself.
“Maybe that’s what’s been wrong lately,” I say.
“What? You not going commando enough?” Isolde asks.
I turn slowly on my heel. I wear stilettos every day of the week. They make me feel powerful. Same with the expensive panties.
Something feral stirs in my belly. A memory of me in nothing but heels, my underwear around my ankles drifts through my mind. A cock slammed into my pussy, over and over again.
My core tightens and I force the image away.
I clear my throat, the kitchen stuffy.
“I need to get laid.”
Abe and Isolde swap looks.
“Okay, I don’t really appreciate the silent conversation there,” I tell them. “I’m serious.”
“You’re about to go into an important meeting and you’re thinking about sex?” Isolde asks.
I shrug. “Men do it all the time.”
“Your boyfriends keep getting killed.” Abe points out.
I hum under my breath. That is an issue. Or maybe just a minor inconvenience.
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I just need to get laid.” I hold up my hands, shrugging innocently.
I’ve got a vibrator. But I’m tired of doing it myself.
And while I know I’ve shared an awfully lot with my friends already, I’m not willing to announce just how much of a loser I am.
Because the sad fact is now that I’m standing in the middleof Fujimori’s kitchen with no underwear on, I’m reminded of a really big fact:
I haven’t had sex since Roman fucking Zimin.
I didn’t mean to go celibate. My heart was broken. My business almost in tatters. I trusted no one. And okay, the broken heart wasn’t mending itself very fast.
Sex with strangers had been a fleeting thought. I didn’t want to take any risks—both with my heart and reputation.
“What is happening in that head of yours?” Abe’s dark eyes crinkle as he studies me. His black hair sticks up and his arms are crossed.
A lot of time has gone by. Five years to be exact.
How the fuck did I not realize I’d gone so fucking long without sex.
I mean sure, sex doesn’t rule the world but still. . .
I need to get laid.
