Margot plants her hands on my cheeks and turns my face toward hers. “Look, we’ll get you out of this. I promise. Even if it means—”
“Turning on Callie?” I ask.
She nods.
She stands and I think she is going to leave, but instead she closes the door. She turns to face me and reaches her hands behind her neck, untying her top, exposing her perfect breasts. Triangles of bright white flesh outline where hertan lines are. She reaches around her back and unties the rest, and her top slinks to the floor.
A shiver ripples over me. I can’t stop gaping at her. Those breasts, those dark eyes glinting with desire. And soon she’s on me, rolling the bottom of my T-shirt up until it is over my bra, which she unclasps and tosses on the bed. She pulls me even closer so that our bodies are touching. Kisses my neck.
“Sophie,” she sighs in my ear. “I’ve wanted this for a very long time.”
She kisses my cheek, then her mouth is on mine and I want to stop her but I don’t. I can’t. I can barely think or see straight, but one thing is startlingly clear: My body has wanted this for a very long time, too.
I feel her lips and tongue trace my nipples while her hand cups my breasts. My own hands are rubbing her breasts, and she moans in my ear.
I move my hands down her stomach, but they’re clumsy from being drugged and shaky from being nervous.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I wanna take care of you first.”
A shadow pools around us. I think it must be the sun, gliding behind another cloud, but I also feel a presence with us. Eyes watching. I twist my neck to look out the window to check, but Margot pulls my face to hers, kissing me urgently.
She gets down on her knees and unbuttons my shorts. I wriggle out of them. She kisses the inside of my thigh and then slides next to me again on the edge of the bed. She pulls my panties to one side and begins touching me.
I’m shuddering. And moaning. She has clearly done this before. She rubs small, tight circles over me, and before I know it, I’ve shed all my inhibitions and my hips are bucking against her hand, and I hear my voice echoing off the walls as I shout hername.
56
I AWAKEN INa square patch of moonlight, lying on my side in bed. Margot’s bed. In Margot’s lake house. Tangled in Margot’s high-thread-count sheets.
Jesus.
I can’t believe that happened. My pulse is speedy, live-wiring through my veins, and I desperately need a glass of water.
The room is dark except for the silver-blue headlight of the moon, and I’m alone in bed.
But I don’t feel alone. The hairs on the back of my neck prick to attention and I creak over, rolling up on my other hip. I notice a dark figure leaning in the doorway.
I gasp.
I’m still in my T-shirt, thank god, but I’m bottomless and I clutch at the sheets, fully covering myself.
“Miss Sophie.” Brad’s voice slurs from across the room. “Didn’t mean to startle ya.”
He is drunk, or, at least, he sounds drunk. An air of menace hangs over hisexpression, which I can fully take in now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark.
It hits me that he might think I killed Abby, and maybe he plans on doing me harm. I wonder where Margot is, if she’s talked to him yet, told him our theory about Callie.
“Where’s Margot?” I ask, trying to sound as parental as possible.
“I was gonna ask you the same.” His eyes are glassy and they move over my body. I feel exposed and vulnerable, and his roving eyes are making me more uncomfortable by the second.
I want to stand, bolt from the room, but he’s got me trapped, and worse, I know he knows it. I follow his eyes as they land on my cutoffs and panties, in a ball on the floor. His full lips spread into a grin. I wonder how long he’s been standing there, watching me as I slept. Acid heaves in the back of my throat.
“How long have you been here?”
“Oh, let’s see.” He combs his fingers through his thick hair. “’Bout half an hour. Margot texted me a few hours ago. Wanted me to come meet her out here tonight.”
I don’t believe him. Because if she wanted him to come out, why is she no longer here? I believe she ended it with him, and that’s why he is acting off.
