Page 62 of Soft Tissue Damage
“Jewelryandfuck-me shoes? Holy crap, Elena. Are you sleeping with him?”
“What are fuck-me shoes? And no, of course I’m not.”
“Fuck-me shoes are exactly what they sound like. You put them on, and you’re signaling that you want to be fucked.” Her eyes narrow. “Why are you turning red.”
“There’s been some…tension.”
“Be specific.”
I have to be careful. We’re veering close to “Cullankilled four men” territory, and I absolutely can’t tell anyone about that. That’s too big a secret, even for a best friend. “The night Mr. Grant showed up in Fenton and saved me from being attacked, we kind of kissed in his car afterward.”
A scandalized smile spreads over Justine’s lips. “While you were dating his son? Oh, that man isbad. I kind of love that for you.”
“You’re supposed to warn me about the dangers of older men, not cheer him on.”
“Has he been creepy? Gross? Showing you his dick over breakfast?”
I choke on a sip of my cocktail. I wonder if it’s strong. I can’t taste the alcohol, but maybe you can’t after you’ve already had two drinks. “He’s been a gentleman, I promise. I’m the one who’s been kind of slutty.”
“How?”
I cast a surreptitious look at my friend. “He… He told me to go to my room, and I went to his room.”
Justine screeches so loudly that a few heads turn nearby, but the music is so loud it mostly drowns her out. I cover my face and laugh. I’m embarrassed, but for once it feels good to be confessing my behavior. I don’t feel accusing fingers pointing at me while Justine and I drink cocktails in a bar called Pixie.
Justine seizes my arm. “Did you—”
I shake my head. “He undressed me and, um.” I waggle my fingers at her and glance significantly down my body.
“Hefingeredyou?” she shrieks at the top of her voice.
“Justine, oh my God. Not so loud.”
My friend’s eyes are so wide, and she’s grinning like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my God. I’m so happy. I’m so proud. Was it good?”
I bite my lip as I remember Cullan’s finger moving in and out of me. Holding tight to his shoulders while I climaxed. “So good. I saw stars. You don’t think I’m crazy for doing that with a man twice my age?”
“I think you’re a lucky bitch who got an orgasm from a man with strong hands who knows what the hell he’s doing. In a hundred years’ time, who’s going to care how old you are and how old he is? Get your bliss however you can. When are you going to sleep with him?”
“Justine, I can’t. I have to be professional from now on.”
“No,” Justine moans, her expression crestfallen.
“I have never in my life had a job that makes me happy. I have never been this happy. I can’t jeopardize that.”
“But he—”
“If my aunts find out what I’m doing, they’ll never tell me who my mother is,” I remind her.
Justine deflates with a gusty sigh and then nods. “All right. I can understand that. You’ve had it rough with those bitches.”
“Justine!”
“What? I’m right. They’re extorting you for money, and you know it.”
My best friend has hinted that she thinks my aunts are taking advantage of me, but she’s never outright said itbefore. I stare at my fingers clutched around my cocktail glass. “What choice do I have but to do as they ask?”
She squeezes my hand. “Sorry, let’s not talk about it right now. It’s your birthday, and we should be dancing. Let’s down these and get out there.”
