Page 20 of Wickedly Played
Just like before, there is a note on the bottom stair. I don’t have to go to it to know it is from my stalker.
This time, though, I feel truly violated. It isn’t from the break-in at my house. It is from the most intense orgasm of my life that came from a man who must not have known it was me in the bed.
“Serena!” Max calls after me.
Shaking my head, I ignore him. I can’t fathom speaking to him right now after I still feel his mouth between my legs. I can still feel his cock lining up to slide inside of me. How far would this have gone before I recognized he wasn’t really in bed with me? Would I have slept with him? I feel like I would have.
Instead of screaming, crying, or demanding answers, I gather myself to go back to my room. With any luck, my stalker will be in my room to kidnap me, so I don’t have to face Captain Chucklehead in the morning.
“Serena?”
I wake with a fright and scream when I hear someone’s voice in my room.
“Who is it?” I demand, hugging the blanket close to my chest.
“It’s Max.”
My heart stops beating triple time. I’m not ready to speak to him. It took me an embarrassingly long time to fall asleep, and I don’t want to talk about this right now. I don’t want to hear how he thought it was a mistake. I don’t want to hear how he doesn’t like me. I understand. I’m a sex worker. I’ve been the novelty in a relationship since I became this person, but never the mainstay.
Pulling the blanket over my head, I roll to the side away from him.
“Serena,” he begs. “Please talk to me.”
I mumble a couple of four-letter words under my breath. “It is fine. Don’t worry about it.”
He’s on the bed above me as he’s yanking the blankets from over my head. “You can’t ignore me when I still taste your pussy on my tongue.”
“Are you sure it was mine and not the woman you were dreaming of?” I snap. “Max, go away. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”
I don’t miss the sound of defeat and regret in his breath. He must know I’m hurt. “What if I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, sweetness? What then?”
I blink my eyes several times to clear the sleep out of them. “You thought I was someone else. You were having a nightmare, and I came in to check on you… I felt you grab my arm, and thenI was under you. It happened so quickly… I didn’t know what to do.”
“Serena, I’m so sorry. I have weird… sleep. I don’t know how to explain it…”
I shrug him off. “Like I said, it is fine.”
He growls, ripping the blankets out of my fists. “You don’t get to do that.”
Hissing, I sit up in bed. I’m wearing a new tank top that is tight across my chest to make sure a boob doesn’t pop out of my top at night. “I don’t get to do what? Pretend it didn’t happen? Is this just a game for you? Work for the sex worker, give her a good orgasm, and then make her feel like shit? I don’t need you to make me feel bad about myself. I have plenty of other men who do it, and I don’t need to pay them for it.”
I can hear him kicking his shoes off, and then his weight is on the bed. After he moves just right, Max is in my bed. I would scream if he weren’t pulling me closer to him. I would also scream if it didn’t feel this good to be close to him. I should be screaming and firing him right now to put me in this position.
But my body has betrayed me.
“Sweetness, I don’t want you to feel bad. Truth is, you have the sweetest cunt I have ever tasted.”
“Is that why you are in my bed?”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’m in your bed because I want to be. Go to sleep.”
“What did the note say?” I ask while snuggling into his arms.
This is wrong. This is so wrong. Even though I know it is, I love the feeling I get from being this close to him.
“I’m going to be installing a stronger alarm system in the morning.”
Even as I fall asleep, I think about how good this feels. I think about how good it would feel to be in something real. I also think about what it would be like for Max to wake up being nice.
