Page 10 of Room Twenty-Eight: Her Beautiful Surrender

“Liar!” I can almost see her jumping on her bed excitedly, ready to dig out all my secrets. “Tell me. You must. I know you want to!”

“You aren’t ready for it,” I groan. “Why don’t you come to Hellmira with me?” I try changing the subject by inviting her on my next tour.

Of course, it doesn’t work. “Nope, you’re not doing that. You’ve got to tell me…everything. Right freaking now.” I visualize the finger she would be pointing at me if we were in the same room together.

“You can’t judge me,” I hesitate.

“As if I would.” She’s right. We’ve never been critical of each other.

Exhaling a deep breath, I close my eyes and rush out, “I lost my virginity in a sex club. With three men. And I don’t even know what they look like or who they are, but tonight, I’m meeting them again and hoping they’ll want to explore this relationship further.”

She’s silent. I don’t even hear her breathing.

“Cec?”

“Processing,” she finally says, and we sit in silence for almost ten minutes before she starts with her barrage of questions. “So many things, so little time. Firstly, I need to know why you don’t know what they look like?”

“I wanted to be masked. I didn’t want to recognize them in public.” I kind of regret that now.

“What kind of sex club?” I should have known she’d ask that, but I’m not prepared.

Biting my lip, I sit up, staring at myself in the mirror on the wall as I reply, “A fantasy one.”

“Fantasy?” she whisper-yells. “So, what was yours? It has to be epic if you’re hiding it from me.” There’s a slight pause. “You know, no matter what it is, that will never change our relationship, right?”

Tears gather in my eyes; it’s just what I needed to hear. “I know, Cec. I’m sorry I hid it from you.”

“Don’t be sorry, tell me what it is and if it was as amazing in reality as you imagined.”

“Okay, okay.” I suck in a deep lungful of air. “It was ten times better than what I could have ever dreamed of.”

“Uh-huh, andddd…”

“I wanted them to take me by force.” There’s that pause again, so I try for more description. “Consensual, non-consensual.” Still nothing. “You hate me?” I whisper in a small voice.

“Good god, no! Don’t you dare let that into your head.” She pauses again, and this time, there are sounds of her pouring a glass of wine. Stolen from her mother, most likely. “And it was good? Did it hurt?” As an afterthought, she adds, “Three of them.”

Giggling, I begin pulling out the clothes I’m wearing to Leon’s game tonight. “The hurt enhanced the pleasure. It was like nothing I’ve ever read about.” And we read so many spicy things in our romance novels.

“You were raised by nuns!” she shouts, then begins choking on a drink of wine. “How do you even get this depraved when you’re raised in a house of the Lord.”

Burying my face in my hands, I moan, “I know! There has got to be something wrong with me, right? Like, this can’t be normal.”

“Fuck normal! You had some safe, fun, kinky sex, and you don’t even know what they look like. Do you know their names?” A shiver works up my spine thinking about them.

“I do. Now. One of them left me a note and their numbers this morning.” I remember waking up filled with dread and worry that it didn’t mean as much to them as it had for me. Seeing Diesel’s note, short and to the point as it was, filled me with elation like I’d never known before.

“Andddddd?” she draws out again. I love how dramatic she can be. I think it has more to do with coping with the stressors of her job than anything else.

“I texted them a little bit ago, and they’re interested in meeting tonight after the hockey game. Leon’s not happy I cancelled dinner with him, so now I’m going to the locker room before the game.” I cringe, thinking of the things I might see that I do not want to.

“Let’s not talk about big brother when we’re talking about being defiled by three men! Were they…you know…stacked?” I snort at her description.

“I was tied up, blindfolded, and held down; I didn’t get a lot of feeling in. Buttttt…” I add my own theatrics when I know she’s going to interrupt. “From the way I was filled, I think the answer is most definitely yes.”

“God, to be you last night. And tonight!” she squeals, and I need to pull the phone away from my ear.

Putting it on speaker, I start undressing and slipping on the ripped shorts and tank top I brought. It’s casual enough for a quick meetup and still cute. “Do I wear my Chucks or sandals?” I ask her.

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