Page 24 of Then Came You

“That’s not how it is,” I whisper, choking on the emotion in my throat. I look up at her ice-blue pitying glare as she turns and walks away, shunning me.

Trying to fight a flood of tears at her barbs, I clench my fists and slink away from the stragglers who are staring at me. Finding a nearby brick wall, I bang my forehead on it, wondering what it is about me that Cindy doesn’t like?

I try to not let her get to me, but I can’t help but think that I’m the problem. My ex didn’t like me. My friend doesn’t like me. Not even my Mum likes me. I’m the common denominator.

Chapter 10

Row

"You need to make up with her," Xander pleads later that week. I’m helping him study for a biology exam at the university’s library. Technically, I shouldn’t be here as I’m not a student, but we’ve had a sudden cold snap overnight, and I don’t particularly feel like going home to a house that has broken windows, no heating, and no blankets.

"I don’t think it’s really up to me."

"But I hate when my two girls fight."

"She said things that were so out of line, she couldn’t even see the line if she looked back." I underline another note in his textbook before peeling off a post-it note to add an acronym for him to learn.

"I’m sure you heard wrong." He's adamant, munching on a peanut M&M. I kick him under the table to quieten his chomping. "Maybe you both just need a few more days to let the dust settle? Don’t take it to heart whatever she said."

"I’m really hurt, Xan."

"I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she didn’t mean it." I think his crush on Cindy is beginning to blind him a little. I’m halfway through highlighting a sentence when he swipes the book from under my hand and begins to stuff it, along with the other textbooks strewn on the table, in his backpack. I guess our study session is over. "Let’s go home and not worry about Cin. She is just trying to look out for you."

I want to believe him, but something in my gut tells me he's wrong.

After stopping by China Town to get some Emperor Puffs and dumplings, we head back to Xander’s. It’s as bachelor pad as you can get. There are gaming headsets strewn on the couch, opened packets of Doritos and salsa, and empty beer bottles littering the floor. If it weren’t for his weekly maid, he’d be living in filth.

It may be his home, but it’s not very homely. There isn’t a skerrick of personal memories or photos around except for a paper stuck to his immaculate fridge that reads in scribble 'Happy Birthday to the best brother,' which is accompanied by a big butterfly and a little butterfly.

“I’m going to have a shower,” I say, dropping my plastic bag with tomorrow’s clothes by the lounge.

Xan grunts in response, starting up his PlayStation console.

Ordinary people wouldn’t think piping hot water that comes out in a steady stream is a luxury, but for me, it is. Being here is equivalent to living like royalty. I fully appreciate the amenities in Xander’s bathroom. Even his toilet seat heats up. The first time I sat on it, I thought my ass was being branded.

I peel my clothes off piece by piece until I’m stark naked in front of the mirror. I notice the bags under my eyes have deepened from worry and lack of sleep, and my fairy floss hair needs to be touched up. My eyes flutter over my chest, and I’m instantly turned on. Not at my body. But at the memory of how Blade touched me. Teased me. Kissed me. Pleased me. My fingers deftly tug on my piercings, sending a scattering of fireflies deep down into my belly until my core is throbbing.

It has been so long since I touched myself.

So, fucking long.

I don’t feel safe doing it at home with Mum and her sleazy boyfriend, so that doesn’t leave me many options. I’m grateful tonight for a warm shower and a warm bed. The impending orgasm is just a bonus.

Juices leak from me, sliding down my thighs. I rub them together to try and alleviate the torturous ache, while I contemplate the quickest way to get off.

Peeking at the frameless shower screen, I note the showerhead is detachable and make up my mind that tonight I’m going to inconspicuously fuck myself until I come. I’m more than certain Xan is dissing some 12-year-old kid on Call of Duty, so I’d say I have a good 30 minutes before he comes up for air again.

Without a second thought, I step into the marble shower, twist the faucet so it’s on the hottest setting, and watch the rivulets run down my body. A cold shower would be better for my current state, but I love the prickling sensation on my skin. Forcefully, I reach for the curved shower head, pressing way too hard to find the power spray function that blissfully and brutally blasts water to hit just the right spot. I lay my head back on the tiles, and slip the showerhead down. The closer I get to my pussy, the heavier my breathing becomes. Images of Blade pop into my mind, and I let my thoughts run wild.

Blade with his tongue between my legs, licking me to squirming submission.

Him grabbing the roots of my hair, forcing my head to swallow him whole, while he praises how good it feels, and what a good girl I am.

Guiding my head back and forth, sucking, until he spills deep inside my throat.

With my other hand, I move my fingers up to my clit. A moan escapes past my lips and my back arches off the wall.

The pressure.

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