Page 24 of Sinister Games

CHAPTER8

LIZZIE

“Someone channeled their inner slut last night!”

“What?” I grabbed the pillow Jane threw at my head and put it aside. “Why would you say something like that?”

Watching as she crossed to my open closet and started shifting through the clothes hanging there, I waited anxiously for her response.

The idea of my exploits being plastered all over Facebook or a trending topic on Twitter made my stomach twist. Had someone taken photos of us in the garden? Fuck! Were there now revenge porn photos of my bare ass all over the internet? Or worse, a video! Grabbing the pillow she had thrown at me, I cradled it to my chest and buried my head. Please, God, let there not be a viral video of me getting my ass spanked in public while I moaned and begged for more like a wanton whore.

What the hell was I thinking last night?

None of that was me.

Like at all.

I was vanilla sex girl.

My idea of risqué was maybe doing it in the back seat of a car. It sure as hell wasn’t getting my ass spanked while a stranger practically fisted my pussy.

Casting a quick glance to make sure my flat mate was engrossed in stealing clothes from my closet, I shifted my hand under the covers to between my legs. Pressing my fingertips gingerly against my pussy, I winced. It still felt swollen and sore. Never in my life had I been sore the next day after sex.

Wait… we didn’t even have sex, not really. Oh, my God! What would actual sex be like with a man like Richard? He’d probably put me in traction.

“Can I borrow that Betsey Johnson dress of yours? The one with the beaded fringe?”

Reaching to the end of my bed, I grabbed my pink Hello Kitty hoodie and pulled it over my head, somehow needing its comforting worn-out feel and warmth.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s in the back next to the Donna Karan A-line dress. What did you mean by the slut comment?”

Pushing my hair away from my face, I resisted the urge to rub my dry eyes. I didn’t think I’d gotten an hour’s worth of sleep last night. I just kept going over yesterday’s events in my mind. Over and over again. Every word I said. Everything I did.

Did Richard think I was an idiot for almost getting hit by a cab?

Did he think I was immature for not talking more about world events at dinner?

Did he think I was too young for him?

Did he think I was a slut for baring my ass and begging him to spank it?

You know… the usual first date worries.

“I’m borrowing your Juicy Couture platforms to go with it,” came Jane’s muffled voice from inside my closet.

Sometimes I thought the only reason why Jane chose me as a flat mate was the fact we were the same size, both in clothes and shoes. That and the fact that I was willing to pay the lion’s share of the rent to get the bedroom while she crashed on the pull-out sofa in the living room.

As Jane backed out of the closet and turned to hold up my dress in front of her to survey the look in my standing full-length mirror, I caught sight of Richard’s black morning jacket hung on the post at the end of my white wrought iron bed. Tossing my covers over it, I stood and went to uncover my birdcage.

Turning away so she couldn’t see my face, I tried to keep my voice calm and casual. “What did you say about my inner slut?”

“Jeez. Relax. I’m just kidding. You came in super late last night.”

My two finches started singing and hopping from branch to branch in their large gold-painted cage. Their warbling calls giving me an oddly soothing sense of normalcy. Sliding open the cage door, I reached my hand in for their water dish.

Coco dashed past me.

“Look out, Jane! Coco is on the loose!”

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