Page 50 of Seven+Four

There’re two pills and a glass of water on the nightstand with a note:To help with your headache.

It’s Uri’s handwriting. I swallow them down and then walk unsteadily to the ensuite bathroom. As the cold water from the basin hits my face, memories from last night come back to me in 4K resolution. Going to the bar with the guys, the two beefy men, the fight, the cocaine shower.

Oh crap, I inhaled cocaine! But what happened after that? Did I embarrass myself? Did I do something stupid? Was Uri there? Everything feels nebulous. The images are confused. My head is still hurting fiercely.

My eyes find my reflection in the mirror. I look pale. My long hair is loose on my shoulders, the corners of my mouth sting for some weird reason, and I have a small purple bruise on my neck.

My hand shakes as I hit the tap shut. Maybe one of the guys can tell me what the heck happened last night. While braiding my hair, I walk back to the bedroom to look for my phone. It’s on the dresser.

I look at the time on the screen. Nine-thirty. I should be at work. There are no missed calls from the office, from Sandy. Raph probably let him know what happened last night.

I try calling Michael.

“Sari,” he answers in a groggy voice after a couple of rings.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. It’s been an hour since I got up, but I’m still trying to get my brain going.” I know what he means. My head still feels foggy.

I start descending the stairs. “Last night was…”

“Fucking crazy!” Michaelalmoststeals the words out of my mouth.

“My memories are fuzzy.”

“I think you and Ollie breathed a larger quantity because of your position. Even though Lori acted really out of his mind.”

He’s sort of crazy on a normal day. Cocaine must have taken him to another level of madness.

“What happened after we inhaled the drug?” I ask him. I feel the incessant urge to know.

“Mine are not very clear as well, but I remember a very weird conversation, then jumping on Raph’s back and then Uri lifting you, and you humping him…”

My broken brain freezes in front of Albert E.’s room for a moment before re-starting again too fast. “I’m sorry, wh-what? I did what?” I force down the rock inside my throat. I must have misheard him. “I humped Uri?”

“More like rubbed your dick all over his belly,” Raph deadpans, painting a vivid, horrifying picture with such a careless tone.

“You had an idiotic smile on your face.” He keeps digging my grave.

“Not idiotic, Raph! It was…sweet,” Michael tries to make me feel better, but it does the opposite. I wonder what the non-pathetic, non-deeply embarrassed people are doing today.

A memory of Uri’s dreads gleaming under the bar lights hits me, or were his hazel eyes that shiny?

“You even tried to ruffle his dreads,” Michael adds. “See? Sweet.”

“I did?”Oh, yes. I did.

“And then?—”

“There’s more?” I cut Raph off; apprehension leaks from my voice.

“No,” Michael replies. “I mean Uri was pretty pissed, but then you took off together all cozy…”

His words suddenly slow as my brain is bombarded by images of Uri and me in his car—X-rated images. The memories are confused and blurry and so…hot. Did I really do all that? Said all of that to Uri? Or did the drug bring one of my dirty fantasies to life? It felt so real, though. I perfectly remember his taste, the sound of his excited grunts, his fingers pumping inside me, the commanding way he drove his pierced dick down my throat.

My hole clenches, and I feel a slight sting. I swallow hard, sensing the soreness in my throat, the corners of my mouth are burning. It was real. Uri and I…

“So did something happen afterward?” Michael’s question halts my shocking train of thought.

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