Chapter 7 It Hurts, You Know?

• LACY
• I let out a gasp and my lips quivered as I stared into his angry eyes. They were almost burning. I'd expected him to sound more hoarse. But strangely he sounded calm as he spoke.
• “I might have let you off at the pool because I didn't wanna create a scene. But in private like this, I'm not gonna tolerate any more lies.”
• To be able to sound this calm regardless of the anger in his eyes showed he had a whole lot of self-control. Maybe he wasn't as much of a bastard as I painted him to be.
• He seemed almost like the gentleman Aaliyah painted him as. Maybe I was the one bringing out his rude side. Maybe the complicated situation was messing with his composure.
• Maybe he wasn't being cocky that night. Maybe he was being awkwardly straightforward. As he said, it was his first one-night stand. Maybe he didn't know the right way to go about it.
• God, why am I making excuses for him?!
• “I really don't know what you're talking about —” I didn't get to finish my lies before he cut me off.
• “22? You're just 22?” He asked in a disappointed and agonized voice. His face was hovering dangerously closer to mine, making my heart pound harder. “How is it possible that a 22-year-old could suck a dick as good as you did? Where did you acquire such expertise?”
• I squirmed and wiggled in his arms to get away. But he held on tighter.
• Please let me go. I beg you.
• His eyes took me in. Drunk me in. And then he let out a strained grunt. His face held a rough mixture of arousal and agony.
• “And how do you have such a body at 22? It's insane. I feel like a damn pedophile. If I'd known you were 22, I wouldn't have…Or I might have. I don't know.”
• The conflict in his eyes was something. The anger. The yearning. My coochie was twitching so hard right now.
• Never in my 22 years of existence have I seen a man of his caliber looking so confused and broken. Vulnerable.
• Dear God, but I fear this situation is above me. How do I handle this? What should I say? What should I do?
• I've never felt guilty about anything in my life.
• Ever since my father died, I've done the sluttiest, twisted, and most unethical things just to help my mother and my brother. And I've never regretted any. Not until now.
• Not until now.
• Maybe I shouldn't have stolen from him. But then again, I'm not delusional and stupid enough to conclude that he's this way because I stole from him. I'm very emotionally aware to read through his distress and detect where it stems from.
• From the second he walked into my dressing room, I saw it in his eyes. I knew he'd be this kinda man. One who'd wanna own me.
• I've always been terrified of a man owning me again. I detest a man being possessive with me again. But God, there's something about the way he's doing it that's making me excited and tempting me to be vulnerable with him. To let him in. But he's gonna hate what he's gonna see. He's gonna hate the dirt I carry.
• He bit his lips and his eyes softened as he asked. “Why did you run away like that? You have no idea how hard I've searched for you. I almost lost my mind. And why are you pretending not to recognize me? It hurts, you know?”
• I gulped like a hundred times but I couldn't say a word. It doesn't help that his eyes are sparkling with a raw desire.
• “I know I was a complete asshole with you that night.” His voice became a warm, gentle sound. “I'm sorry about that. But I swear, I wouldn't have hurt you. Not in a way you didn't permit. I'm not that kinda man. I just didn't know how to react after you hit me. But I swear to God, I wouldn't have hurt you.”
• I see that. I truly do. And God, my poor heart's racing. It's not helping that his lips are getting very close to mine. Almost grazing.
• We didn't kiss that night. But I've always been allured by his pinkly-stained lips. Kissing him would be worth it, I know. But it could be my ruin too. And his ruin. It's best if we don't get to that level of intimacy.
• “Why are you 22?” He groaned out, like it was literally hurting him or something. “I hate feeling like a perv. I hate your lies even more.”
• His lips were almost claiming mine when I saw the opportunity to slip out of his arms.
• “I'm sorry. I gotta go!” I said, as I ran as fast as I could out of the kitchen heading to the staircase.
• “There you are,” Aaliyah said as we almost bumped into each other.
• “Yeah, I was looking for you,” I said in a flustered voice. I held her hand as we began going upstairs.
• “Come see the outfits I picked for both of us.” She said with so much glee.
• I gave a nervous smile. We finally got to the room and she squealed.
• “Tada!”
• I took a minute to process the sight in front of me. When she said ‘outfits’, I thought she meant ‘real outfits ‘, but these aren't them at all.
• They were pants. G-strings. Bras. Slitted see-through skirts. Lacy jackets. See-through gowns.
• “Tell me something, yeah? What kinda party is your daddy hosting tonight?”
• “Casual parties. They last for three days. When it's over, we'll head back to school.”
• “CASUAL?”
• “Yeah. Fun. CASUAL. R-rated. Just adult stuff. There will be drinks and enough food and sex.” She winked, dropping onto her bed.
• Something twitched inside me. It couldn't be jealousy. Maybe just curiosity.
• “Does your daddy love that kinda stuff?” I added the question carefully so she doesn't suspect a thing.
• “What? No. Of course, not. He's such a saint.” She laughed. “But he has rakes and Casanovas as friends so he lets them have their way. Do what they wanna do. But he never gets involved.”
• Something settled in me. God, I must be losing my mind.
• “So you'll be wearing this and this tonight,” Aaliyah said, throwing a bra, a G-string, and a see-through skirt at me.
• “I don't think so, Ma'am.” I laughed, throwing them back to her.
• She pouted. “Why not? You've got such a great body. You're almost a fucking Aphrodite. How can you not wanna flaunt it?”
• “I flaunt it, alright? I just don't wanna look like a skank.”
• “Girl, these are branded outfits. Pure luxury. The only thing you'll look like is rich.” She threw the outfits back at me. “Rich and fucking sexy.”
• I couldn't debate with her anymore. So she laughed triumphantly and jumped to her feet.
• “Come let's go eat. I bet the food is ready.”
• “Uh, when does the party start?”
• “8. An hour from now.”
• “Can I just stay here and rest a bit? I'll be out for the party, I promise.”
• I’m scared of running into her Daddy again. Or being trapped in a kitchen with him.
• “Sure.” She agreed and headed out while I curled up in the bed, almost thinking about him. But the beep from my phone cut me off.
• I clicked on the message and every drop of blood in my face dried off.
• MAD DOG.
• I read the text with a shaky grip and pounding heart.
• *It's that time of the year again, Kitten.*