She shakes her head, but I have too much fun pushing her boundaries.
My teeth nip at her denim, biting the thick hem with sadistic need pumping me stiff. Her tenderly combing her fingers through the hair on the back of my head spurs me on, heightens the rush, almost makes me forget that PDA is frowned upon.
Plus, the disgusting shit I want to do to her is not to be seen by anyone. She’s only a slut for me.
Well, shewillbe.
Ending my show, I grab the stack of flyers and spring to my feet with a hard-on, giving the passerby and stopped pedestrians an awarding smile and bow. “Come see us Monday night at eight!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
BUNNY
Chewing the last of my crust, the hours I spent with Razor this morning play through my mind. They have been. Each frame of him, every smell of his cologne and the stolen glances that carved the syllables of his name into my veins.
It’s pathetic. But it feels like he owns my heart. I’m just not willing to let him in.
He’s secretive and sneaky. And he doesn’t think. He just… does. He’s the polar opposite of me. Yet he has a way of convincing the darkest parts of me that it’s okay to be slaughterhouse.
Life isn’t the yellow I forcefully paint it. I just… I don’t want to clip someone with my rust and infect them with tetanus.
Ora plucks a wedge of pineapple from her piece of pizza, stretching her arm back over her shoulder from the floor and passing it to me on the couch. “Get out of your head, Bun.”
I accept the acidic fruit, popping it into my mouth with a sigh. “I am pleasantly present.”
With one hand painting her spread toes on the carpet, Gwen takes a bite of her slice and flops it toward me. “I don’t like dick, and I can tell you’re thinkin’ ‘bout it.”
The pineapple goes down with a sting that has me latching around my cup of water on the side table and taking a big drink.
“Yeah, that’s dick,” Gwen nods, her bobbing blonde rollers sending all the girls’ attention right at me. “Did you finally fuck someone? You’re glowin’ a bit, juicy girl.”
“Razor,” Aries inputs, the cushion next to me shifting with her lean.
Accidentally setting my water down with force, the sweaty glass clanks onto the coaster. “No. Oh, my God, no. We went to the library and hung flyers. That was it.”
The lamp humming next to me is seeping down into the flames coming up through my face, like I’m experiencing the close impact of the sun. But really, I’m just a nervous glass teapot that cracks under pressure.
Duse stops her sewing machine, snipping the thread and pulling out the final one piece she’s been working on. “They’ll probably be back from… whatever they do soon. Do you wanna try this on?”
I grin, nodding and getting up from the couch. “Thank you for doing this.”
Getting it flipped right side out, she turns her smile from the shimmering, blood orange droplets up to me and passes it over. “It was long overdue. Now we’ll all be cohesive for the big bang.”
The big bang.
“Did, uh… Did Razor get Carl’s permission?”
Duse slowly shakes her head, smoothing over my worries with a placid expression turning her lips down.
The screen door behind me screeches, and instead of giving him any of my attention, I maneuver around Gwen and Ora on the floor and close myself in my bedroom to escape the expected embarrassment of Razor being in the same room as me.
The girls don’t mean harm. But this is already a battle I’m barely surviving, and I don’t need additional wounds of encouragement.
I cannot have sex with him. I cannot kiss him. I need to stop thinking about him. Andheneeds to stop coming near me.
Setting my newest performance piece on my bed, the shoddy fan whispers against my skin, tousling my hair across the everlasting dampness I’ve been surviving in.
That’s my problem.
