And the kissing thing…is complicated. I’ve gone through enough therapy to get that my childhood left me with scars I’ll never erase. I was loved once. I remember it. Kind of.
Enough to remember the pain when it was taken away. Enough to know that it’s not a risk worth taking.
So, I’ve never kissed outside of work. Period. And I don’t plan on starting now.
The exit slams again behind me and I force myself not to turn back to look.
Instead, I watch this big man fuck his wife without a condom on. It’s usually a huge turn on for me, but tonight… Dammit, there’s something wrong with my body. It’s like the bullshit from my real life is messing with my libido.
My cock stays at half-mast while Godric drills Sadie Jo. The creampie—the part I’m usually wild for—gives me no more than a minimal thrill and, by the time he pulls out and I head off, I’m half terrified.
If I can’t get it up for a spanking or a breeding, what the hell am I gonna do?
And damn my brain for choosing this very moment to supply me with an image of my wife as she was driven away last night—her eyes big and wide and angry, her face as pale as I’ve ever seen it.
In sudden need of air, I shove open the side door and head out into the cool night, wishing I could wipe my mind clear of Twyla’s painfully beautiful face.
* * *
Twyla
I’m racing down a hill in these heels, wishing for a drink or a change of clothes or some idea of what to do next.
I don’t even know where I’m heading. Toward the parking lot, probably, though I haven’t accomplished what I set out to.
At the bottom of the hill, I stop and look around, pull my mask up over my mouth and drag in big lungfuls of fresh, pine-scented air. It’s cooler out here, though still warm and humid. I’m a hot, sticky mess inside the vinyl. Above me, the sky is clear, cloudless, and there are so many stars, twinkling down on this place. It’s been a while since I saw stars or noticed the moon or heard the scraping song of night creatures.
My breathing slows. I take a long look around.
There, a few feet ahead is a quaint wooden sign pointing every which way.
I stumble up and squint at it. To the right is the pool and the clubhouse.
Straight ahead is a darker, wooded area, with a group of tents. Beyond that is the lake, apparently, and the Hangar. Lord knows what happens in there.
Why did I even come here? I need to go. Where’s the parking lot?
I turn, stare back up toward the dungeon I’ve just left. It’s that way.
I can just trudge back up and get in the car and drive to… Where? The Days Inn again?
Or should I hop a flight to LA and face what’s left of my dumpster fire of a life?
I do a 360, look up the hill, and exhale, long and slow.
No. No way. I’m not done with this place. I haven’t even accomplished what I came to do.
Wait, what did I come for, again?
To talk to Zion. To confront him. And I couldn’t exactly interrupt the spanking, could I?
You gonna fuck her?The man’s words come back to me.She wants it, man.
Is that what he’s doing up there right this second?
Yes. Obviously.
Jealousy, the poisonous little ingredient I’ve been ignoring since I first saw that video, shoots straight to my stomach and twists. It’s a sharp, long blade and it hurts. God, it hurts. More than the anger. More, even, than the betrayal. Not only have I been made the fool, I’ve done it to myself.
