Page 86 of Forgotten Comeback
I situate myself behind Gavin, lining up the head of my dildo against his tight ring…
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Fumbling for my phone, I grab it and turn off my alarm.
“Naps arenotgood for my mental health!” I scream.
I storm to the shower, stripping as I wait for the water to heat up. Stepping inside, I move the spray between my legs.
Again, I’d rather be dragged and quartered than admit to anyone I immediately orgasmed.
“Are you finished sunning?” I ask Bonnie, moving her to a less bright spot on the counter. “I’ll be out late this evening,” I warn her. “Why? Because I’m tangled in a damn spider web. Not literally; it’s a metaphor.”
“Why don’t I get myself out? Because Gavin’s right, and I fucking hate that he’s right.” The friend card has already been played once, and I’m not willing to gamble my life on playing it a second time with the capo of AC. Hell, I can’t even be sure Kat would go to the mat for me. I thought she and I were besties, but I’m starting to wonder if I even know her at all.
Pot, meet kettle.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly release it.
“Do I feel better? Yes,” I tell Bonnie.
There’s a notification on my phone, and I grab it from the counter. Opening social media, I check out my post. It’s gotten way more traction than I thought it would.
That’s really cool!
Need this in my life.
So sexy.
What’s the medium?
Ummmmm, yeah, about that medium…
How would I explain that I undressed in front of a man who broke in, and I stood there watching him jerk his dick with my paint-covered panties until he came all over my canvas. Oh, and all thisafterhe murdered a man and blew up my house.
We both know what would’ve happened had I not been there.
My heart thuds as the memory of Dominic claws its way to the surface. Gavin’s right: I would have been raped had he not been there.
Dominic was always slimy, but it’s like I’ve misjudged everyone I’ve ever crossed paths with.
Oh, God, and Mrs. Parker is dead too!
My heart rate spikes, and my lungs feel like I’ve got an elephant standing on them. I grab a paper bag from the counter that contains my meds, dumping those out. Placing it over my mouth, I breathe slowly in and out, inflating and deflating the bag.
After a minute or so, I toss the bag, feeling more in control.
“This isn’t a spiral,” I assure Bonnie. “Should it be? I don’t know.” My head thunks the refrigerator door before I open it and grab my water bottle, taking a swig. Placing my bottle back inside, I close the door and tell her, “On that bright note, I need to get ready.” I pause. “Excuse me, but I beg to differ. Sarcasm does suit me.”
Moving to the bathroom, I spend some extra time on my hair and makeup, checking myself out in the mirror. No clue what the ring girl should wear to a weigh-in, but I went with a black mini dress and heels. Something that at least covers most of my breasts and all of my vag.
My phone notifies, and I grab it, opening social media.
Mostly positive comments on my post. A few creepy ones, and those quickly get deleted and the user blocked.
My DMs are lit up, and I open them.
