Leo: Chris wants to know if you want to grab dinner with us?
I think about the rest of my night’s non-existent plans. Taking the train back to Brookhaven and passing out like I usually do before I start everything over again tomorrow. My cousin Natasha works at the only bar in town and mentioned she’ll be working their Halloween party tonight. Doing that would be a lot easier than having to take the train back from the city later.
Rhiannon: Want to meet at Natasha’s bar? They’re throwing a costume party.
Leo: Sure. But if we’re drinking, Chris and I are sleeping on your couch.
Rhiannon: Sounds good to me.
Leo: Also, how do you feel about working another music video? Five hours of work in Manhattan. $500 cash. Male rock artist.
Rhiannon: What does it entail?
Leo: I don’t have the details, but you’ll be on set with two other models. I know you can do it. ;)
Seems simple enough.
Rhiannon: Give me like three hours to think about it. I’m finishing my last room at the hotel then I’ll be riding back to Brookhaven on the train and can check my schedule.
Leo: Cleaning Mr. ‘A little of this and a little of thats’ penthouse?
Rhiannon: More like A LOT of that. If you get my drift. ;)
Leo: And why aren’t you pursuing this guy again???
Rhiannon: I think he’s just as committed to his work as I am, unfortunately.
Leo: You’ll never know if you don’t ask. He could be good for you. Bring him to the bar tonight so that we can meet him properly.
Rhiannon: No fucking way.
Before he can text back, I hear a noise outside the bathroom door.
Oh… oh no.
Panic floods through me as I jump off the toilet. I yank my uniform skirt to pull it up along with my thong at the same time and reach for the zipper and tug, but it won’t budge.
No, no, no!
I glance down and realize the worst—part of my silk thong is caught in the zipper, and it’s stuck. I fumble with it, trying to backtrack the teeth, but the fabric is wedged too deep. The bottom half is wrapped around my legs, and I’m completely exposed, ass cheeks out, pussy bare, standing in Cain’s bathroom.
“Is somebody in here?”
Double shit.
“Uh, Rhiannon? Is it you?” His deep voice booms.
I glance down at the stuck mess in my hands and consider just tearing the thong from my body. Men do that in romance novels all the time. They seem to always be ripping the fabric off the female leads. It can’t be that uncomfortable.
Unfortunately, while I’m contemplating how painful a thong ripping from my body will feel, the bathroom door swings open, revealing Cain standing there with a look of concern and confusion on his handsome face.
I freeze, having no idea what to do with myself except sit back down on the cold, porcelain bowl and pinch my knees and thighs together.
“Um... Rhiannon? What are you doing in here?”
Chapter 19 – Rhiannon
My cheeks flush a lovely shade of red. I really should have just held my pee. If you hold it for long enough, can you reabsorb it somehow? Maybe if I ran out of here super-fast, I’d have excreted it through my sweat. Is that a thing?
