“Oh, yeah? What would that be?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light although my mind and heart were racing.
“This party? It’s for my buddy. And he was down here for a total of thirty minutes before he hightailed it upstairs to drown himself in a bottle of Jack. He’s like a cat in a tree, can’t seem to talk him down. It’s understandable, seeing as he’s been away a while, but I figure you can help me out.”
He hooked his finger into the front of my skirt and slowly dragged me toward him until my nipples were flush up against his chest. He pressed his fingers into the skin right above my public bone and I resisted the urge to jump back by biting down on my bottom lip.
“The BBB’s have never really been his thing.” He paused when he saw the confused look on my face at his abbreviation. “Beach Bastard Bitches.” He explained. “But you? You’re new. You’re different. You’ve got this cute little innocent thing going on, but I know you’re not or you wouldn’t be at this kind of party if that was your deal. I’m thinking he’ll like you.” Bear brushed his lips against the side of my neck. “So maybe you go up there. Make him happy for me. Make little him happy by wrapping those gorgeous lips around his cock for a while. Then when you’re done, bring him back down here to civilization. And maybe later, if you’re a good girl and do what you’re told, we can go back to the clubhouse and have some real fun.” He grazed his teeth along my earlobe. “Think you can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” I said. My skin prickling from his touch. And I could do it.
“What’s your name anyway?” Bear’s hand slowly traveled up the back of my leg, pushing up my skirt, it came to rest on my ass cheek, which was then exposed to anyone who might have been looking in our direction.
“Doe. My name is Doe,” I breathed.
“Fitting.” He said with a chuckle. “Well, my innocent looking little Doe.” Bear leaned in close and surprised me by planting a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips were soft, and he smelled like laundry detergent mixed with liquor and cigarettes. I was just beginning to think that the kiss meant that he’d changed his mind and didn’t want me to send me away to his friend, but no such luck. He pulled away abruptly and turned me around by my shoulders so that I was facing the stairs. He swatted me on my ass, propelling me forward. “Up the stairs you go, sweetheart. Last room at the end of the hallway. Be good to my boy, and me and you will get to play later.” He sealed his words with a wink and as I made my way up the stairs I turned back and flashed him a fake smile. I hoped the guy at the end of the hallway was like Bear, because then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Then a thought hit me that had me fighting back the tears that sprung from my eyes with a sudden force that almost took me to my knees.
I’d officially sold myself, and the price was far more than any dollar amount.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Ba-boom.
It was hard to tell where the bass ended and my pulse began.
I wiped my palms on the tattered skirt I’d lifted from the Goodwill donation bin and maneuvered through a sea of bodies rhythmically writhing up against one another. A thick layer of smoke lay trapped under the low ceiling. Hauntingly robotic party goers danced and gyrated under the flickering lights on every available inch of floor space.
In the dark, with only the pulsing of the lights to guide me, I made my way up the stairs, and as Bear instructed, to the door at the very end of the hallway.
The door to my salvation.
The door to my hell.
I turned the handle, and the hinges shrieked. The only light in the room was courtesy of the dim and muted TV on the far wall. The heavy scent of pot wafted from the room.
“Hello?” I squeaked into the darkness, trying as hard as I could to make my voice sound as sexy as possible, but failing miserably.
A voice, deep and rough, broke through the silence, his words vibrating through to my very core. “Shut the fucking door.”
Snaking its way into every crevice of my already fragile mind and body, an entirely new feeling enveloped me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I’d expected to feel hesitant, nervous, and even anxious.
But what I felt was far more than that.
It was fear.
Heart racing. Pulse pounding. Red alert. Fear.
The impulse to turn and run as fast as my trembling legs could carry me was overwhelming, but any thoughts of immediate escape were interrupted.
“Door,” the voice commanded again. I hadn’t moved an inch. As much as I wanted to run, my desperation propelled me forward.
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