Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 7

SEVEN

OCTOBER 2021

I leant agains the headboard of my bed with my hands folded on top of my stomach while one of my arms kept a bowl of food steady, my eyes locked in on the patterns on my ceiling.

I looked forward to Halloween every year, but this year felt different.

Ever since we met, way back when we were 17 and had fake IDs until our 18 th birthdays, Peyton and I would get dolled up into our Halloween costume theme for the year, then we would go into the city centre which was home to the best club in the country.

Not that was very hard. Wales seemed to dislike the party scene unless you lived in the big cities.

But the year 2021 was to be different.

That year, Peyton couldn’t go out drinking and let loose.

For a start, she had the world’s shittiest boyfriend who controlled her every move and hated the story of our Halloween shenanigans. When he first heard about them, in no uncertain terms, he told her we would be ending that tradition swiftly. Of course back when he first said it, we thought he was joking. But unfortunately, we eventually found out that the psycho meant it .

Then secondly, Peyton Summers was pregnant with her first child.

Going out to a crowded warm night club with dancing bodies everywhere while you felt bloated and like you were going to throw up every half an hour sounded like a recipe for disaster.

I sighed, debating not even going out myself and staying home. But the night before when I called Peyton to discuss our plans, she sounded infuriated at the idea of me not going along with the whole tradition that she knew I loved, the one night I looked forward to every year.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I mumbled before I slurped some chicken flavoured super noodles. “But it won’t be the same without you, Pey,” I pouted, despite knowing she couldn’t see me.

“I’ll be there back in full swing next year, pinky promise,” I knew she was holding her hand out to her phone with her little finger extended, despite not being able to see her. That was just the sort of person she was, and I adored her for it.

At the reminder that time was ticking, I sighed for what felt like the millionth time before I forced myself to sit up. I threw my legs off the side of my double bed that barely fit in my childhood bedroom, then I stuck my hand out to open my makeup drawers—the distance extremely short from my bed.

I pulled out my usual base makeup, and my hand mirror. Then I grabbed my phone from my makeshift bedside table, a trolley I used to store my books, hair brushes, and some random clutter that I didn’t want to fill my actual bedside table with.

I unlocked my phone and opened a photo inspiration app, typing in ‘Halloween looks for women’.

The year before, Peyton had gone as a slutty Alice and I had been a sex-ified version of the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland. That night was a wild one, one that ended in me having to drag Peyton away from the middle of the dance floor as she almost lost a fistful of hair to a man who claimed she was harassing his girlfriend.

I swiped off the app momentarily, then I opened my music app. I clicked a random playlist recommended for me, then I pressed the button at the bottom to make the music play from the small white speaker that sat on my bedside table.

The music came through quiet at first, but I was in no mood for quiet and calm. I wanted loud chaos that vibrated through my bones. I needed a distraction to keep me motivated to get ready, despite knowing I would be going out alone, without my best friend and wing woman.

I parted my lips to take in a deep breath, then I turned the music up louder without a care in the world for my neighbours or my mother. I then changed back to the photo app, searching with my finger scrolling seemingly endlessly.

I then found inspiration in a photo of a woman in what looked to be a form of clown makeup, but gothic and elegant. It matched the dress I had planned to wear, so all the better, I thought.

I puffed out my cheeks and forced out a tense breath before I then forced a smile. I held my mirror tight in my hand as I pulled the lid off my foundation. I pressed three pumps onto the back of my left hand, then I used my fingers to rub it into my skin.

Once I felt my face was covered enough, I then used wet wipes to clean my hands before I placed my phone on a stand in front of my face so I could compare the photo to my own reflection in the mirror. I noted there was black eyeliner high on the eyelid, pointing out at the ends like a bat wing.

I copied the eyeliner the best I could, and was surprised when I found I made it look semi like the inspiration photo. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but I couldn’t be bothered with perfect. I wanted to get the makeup done with so I could go out sooner.

The sooner I was out, the sooner I could drink. The sooner I could drink, the sooner I would be drunk. The sooner I was drunk, the sooner I could go home and pass out, forgetting about my stress of the year. When I would wake November 1 st , I would be a new me—like my own personal new year.

Once the bat wings were completed, I then moved my makeup brush to under my eyes where I made a long and thin triangle down to the middle of my cheeks, one under each eye, with small circles at the end. It took me a few turns to make stand out and not look patchy, with some eyeliner and black eyeshadow, but eventually I got it to a ‘good enough’ stage.

That was just how the night was going to have to go for me, just good enough.

I then dug through my makeup drawer, biting my lower lip in hopes that I hadn’t throw the last item I needed away. I felt my fingers wrap around the familiar product casing and grinned as I pulled it from the drawer.

Black lipstick.

I twisted the handle from the tube and pulled out the applicator, smiling to find the lipstick unused and still looking fresh, no separation despite how abandoned it was. I placed a thick layer on each lip, my lips turning dark and mysterious. Then I pulled back from the mirror to check out my reflection.

I nodded at my own reflection. Again, good enough. I didn’t look perfect, but it was obvious what I was trying to be.

I realised I had never made any plans for my hair as my hands moved from my face upwards to the messy blonde bun that sat on the top of my head. I went to chew my lip, then remembered I had put lipstick on and I had to let it dry at least before I messed it up.

“Fuck it, you can go up in ponytails,” I spoke to my own reflection before I pulled my hairband to free my hair.

I picked up a brush and aggressively run it through my hair, letting out little whimpers when I tugged to hard on a knot or two. Once my hair was smooth enough the brush could run through it easily, I then parted my hair into two and each side got a lopsided ponytail of its own.

The music from my speaker seemed to be getting louder without me pressing the buttons on my phone, but I wasn’t mad about it. I needed the music to drown out any thoughts of cancelling my plans that I had.

The speaker was loud enough for the floor to feel as if it were vibrating each time a section of the music playing got particularly loud with drums or bass. And I had to resist the urge to smile. I was about to have the same feeling doubled when I would get to Club Temptation and step onto the dance floor.

I moved my body along to the music slowly as I temporarily paused the final assessment of my makeup and hair to check my phone. I saw a text from Peyton, apologising her morning sickness was cursing her for the whole day.

Had she not been feeling so rough with sickness every day of her pregnancy to that day, she would have still gone out with me and would have been designated driver, opting to drink virgin cocktails while I would get the luxury to get absolutely wasted.

I smiled as I typed back a quick reassurance, happy she was still thinking of me and wanted to me enjoy myself. I hated that she blamed herself for not being able to go out—it was the demon spawn in her stomach that was to blame.

Sure, going out on Halloween night late into the morning of November 1 st was our thing , it had become a tradition we held dearly, but it was okay if she had to miss it some times. We could always make up for it another time, next year even. I didn’t doubt that in some years, I may even miss out on it.

My fingers itched to open the app where his messages lay blocked, but the taunt wasn’t enough to convince me to stare at the empty messages anymore—I had become stronger at ignoring the fact he still remained existing on my phone. “One of these days I’m going to fully delete him,” I promised myself after one too many red wines .

I locked my phone and picked my eye shadow pallet back up to finish the points on my eye makeup with a little pink around the dots to try to add some colour to my face. While I was going for a mostly black and white style, I felt like I would look too pale without the small touches.

Once I was sure I looked like a mostly gothic sad clown with the corners of my lips pointed downwards, I placed my makeup away messily in my makeup drawer. I picked my phone back up from my bedside table and turned my body to the large window at the bottom of my bedroom, the white light of the cloudy sky the perfect lighting for a selfie to show off my chosen Halloween ‘villain’ of the year.

As I opened my Snapchat app, I saw a red bubble by the ‘add friends’ button. I pressed to open it, only to be taunted by his name telling me his account had been found from my contacts. I dared to press his account and block it, but he probably didn’t even have the notification about my own account.

It wouldn’t affect him, and I wanted to upset him as much as he upset me. I knew that wasn’t an option, I could never do anything to hurt him. Because I meant nothing to him.

I closed off the page and went to my messages with Peyton to show off my makeup, but the spark of excitement I felt when I first finished my makeup was gone. Instead I had an empty pit in the bottom of my stomach.

But that didn’t stop me from forcing as a smile as I snapped a few photos and sent them to Peyton, then I stood from my bed before making my way out of my bedroom to the spare room down the hallway, where a white and black dress sat. It had frills around the neck, wrists and bottom of the skirt which was shorter than my usual style, coming to sit mid thigh.

As I stared at the dress hanging on the open door of the wardrobe, I debated once again not going out and instead tucking myself into bed with a hot chocolate and some movies. But I had an itch in my skin to go out, to dance to loud music and forget the stresses of the year.

I wasn’t someone who went out often, Halloween was the one time of the year I did and it always helped me forget my stresses. Sure, I could learn to stop being such a homebody and go out another weekend, but that just wasn’t me . Tonight was the only night for God knows how long until the next opportunity would arise—and I was not going to let it pass me by.

I needed as much distraction and freedom as I could get, especially after the shitty year I had been having.

So I forced a smile, once again, and threw the dress on without much further debate or thought. Once I had shifted parts of it to make it sit nicer on my body, I then stood back and took some mirror selfies to show the full outfit.

I didn’t love how I looked, but I still felt like my Halloween outfit was a good choice. I never liked how I looked, and without Peyton there to reassure me, I knew I was going to be concerned about it until I had enough alcohol running through me for my brain to turn to static.

Of course Peyton text back some sort of message that showed she was very much in approval of the outfit, to which I knew had her boyfriend at the time seen the messages, he would have accused us of having a lesbian affair behind his back—which wouldn’t be the first time.

I hated him, James. He was rude and demanding, and he controlled her. She was going to end things with him three weeks ago, only to find out instead that she was pregnant. So she decided she was going to try to keep things going for the sake of their child. She even signed them up for couples therapy sessions—something I had no doubt he hated.

I smiled as I went back to my bedroom to grab my lipstick, something I suspected I may need to top up throughout the night. Then I made my way downstairs. I got to the hallway and didn’t bother going into the living room to bid my mother and her then- boyfriend goodbye before I slipped into my black cropped leather jacket and black wedge boots.

Once I was sure I looked good enough for the night, I then left the house with one earphone tucked securely into my ear, and my purse in my hand ready to swipe my bank card the second I entered the club—I wanted a drink for each hand.

I walked down my street, then down the connecting hill which led straight to the nearby train station. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few other people nearby, all also wearing Halloween costumes of their own.

As I joined the platform, stood far away from everyone else, some nearby people gave me a smile before they went back to their conversations. I felt nervous, my palms sweaty. So I reached into my bag to get my other earphone before I plugged that into my other ear to drown out my worries.

In an hour’s time, I would be on the dance floor with a drink in my hand and a buzz flowing through me. Then, all my worries would disappear and I would be free to be a drunk, dancing zombie until daybreak.

Club Temptation lay on a corner of Main Street which met with Harthorne Avenue, a curved building that sat on a corner where the road forked off into two directions, one road leading up to nearby hilly roads to residential streets—Harthorne Avenue—and the other leading further into town—continuing on as Main Street.

The building was white, with large glass windows and purple neon lights illuminating the place. The inside looked like it was packed as I noticed crowds of people in front of the windows and a long queue out the door into the street, but the bouncers seemed to not care less as they still allowed new patrons inside after checking their IDs .

And even that they did half-heartedly. They looked as if they wished they could have been anywhere but there.

My ID check was successful, despite being brief, and once inside the former distant throb of the music became louder. The floor began to vibrate with each step I took, and I was reminded of why I went there every Halloween.

The feeling had become comforting.

I reached the end of the entryway hallway where a cut out window on the left sat three ‘receptionists’ who I was unsure were even needed in such a venue. I had to resist the urge to laugh, however, as I soon realised they were dressed like the Powerpuff Girls.

As I got to the end of the hallway with a beaming smile on my face, I then turned right to walk down the stairs which led to the main large open space of the building, the bar and dance floor.

As I reached the bottom of the steps I sucked in a breath, my anxiety clawing my insides to run out and be free from the crowd of people before me in varying costumes. But I persevered on and made my way forward to the bar.

A man behind the counter with white and black face paint which I assumed was supposed to look like a skull—the colours had begun to melt together from the warmth of the place, turning a dirty grey—greeted me. “What can I get ya?” He shouted over the booming music.

“I’ll have two double Malibu and Cokes please!” I yelled back, and within seconds the drinks landed on the counter in front of me. I swiped my card without a second thought, then I knocked the drinks back, one after another.

The bar host looked at me with shock, but when I caught his eye, he rushed to away and scurried down the bar to the other end to deal with a larger group of patrons that his coworker seemed to be having hell with.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding before I held my bag tight to my body and made my way from the back sideways through the crowd on the edge of the dance floor.

Once I was past the small groups of people, I found the dance floor while still full, held plenty of space for me to be free and dance to my own hearts desires with unlimited freedom.

As I walked around the dance floor searching for a space, my body swayed slowly to the music. After a few seconds of searching, I found a space with a table nearby so I could place my bag down and still keep an eye on it.

I flung my bag on the dark wood grain table top before I stepped back a few almost-stumbles before the music beat began to amp up. I moved my body along, then the beat dropped and the intensity of the dancing around me amped up so I tried to also match the same tone.

A voice in the back of my head tried to tell me to go home, told me I looked fucking ridiculous. But I pushed her down, told her to fuck off and let me have one night to myself for once.

A man walked past in a suit, a mask covering his nose and eyes which turned into standing bunny ears coming off of the top of his head. He stopped as he got to me, holding out a tray filled with shots.

“Would you like one?” He asked.

I had no clue if he even worked at Club Temptation, but I grabbed a shot in each hand and brought one to my lips at a time, knocking both back. I then placed the empty glasses back on his tray and did the same thing once again.

The man’s eyes became wide, but when he seemingly saw the fierce look in my eyes, he decided not to question my motives and decided to move on to the next small group of people not too far away, but not close enough to ruin my buzz.

Whatever was in the shots was strong and felt like it hit me harder than I expected. I felt my body sway and my face felt like it was going numb, but I didn’t care as I kept swaying my body to the music .

I felt warmth push up against me and at first I wanted to turn around and push the stranger away, but then I realised I was a single young woman and I was free to do whatever—or whoever—the fuck I wanted.

I still allowed my body to turn around, but instead of pushing the dashing handsome stranger away, I wrapped an arm around his neck as our bodies moved awkwardly to the music, sections of our fronts pushed together.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing dancing here all alone?” The man asked, to which I slapped my free hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“Don’t talk, just dance!” I yelled, stepping back slightly to allow us to dance better. The man shrugged, decided to go along with my good mood regardless of my semi rude action.

I couldn’t tell if the man was attractive or not, and dare I say for the first time in my life, I didn’t care if he was or wasn’t. He wore a mask that covered the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair in wavy curves and messy all over his forehead. He wore what looked like a racing suit, think like a Formula 1 racer.

The song changed around us to one less EDM sounding, a bit more indie rock vibes. I gasped, smiling as I waved my hand up and down excitedly. I couldn’t remember most of the lyrics in my hazy state from God knows what I drank, but when the chorus began I shamelessly screamed the lyrics, “You steal my sunshine!”

The man with me seemingly smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. The mask made it hard to tell what he was feeling or if he was attempting to talk, but I wouldn’t have responded to his conversation attempts anyway. I wanted to dance, forget about my troubles.

The waiter from earlier came back with a new tray of drinks. He placed them down on the table, my table. The man I danced with waved him off. “I bought us some drinks, just vodka lemonades, nothing fancy. ”

I shrugged as I reached out an arm and almost stumbled in my heels. The man stabilised me for just enough time for me to reach out and grab our drinks. Once the drinks were secure in my hands, I stood with my feet locked into place for fear of spilling my ‘forget your troubles juice’.

I grabbed the small paper straw in the glass and threw it somewhere on the floor before I necked the drink, then I threw the glass towards the direction of the table. I prayed it didn’t break and would just bounce along the floor. When I heard no smashing, I forgot all about my actions and chose to forget what I had even done.

I wasn’t acting like myself, but that was the point. I want meant to be someone else for the night. Someone free of worry and stress. Someone that could be wanted for just a night by a man who I would willingly forget all about by the morning.

The man looked stunned, yet oddly impressed by my carefree nature. So I grabbed him by the back of the neck and reached the small distance between up to crash my lips against his.

At first, the man didn’t move. I almost felt like I had mad a mistake and so I went to pull back, but then I felt his free hand snake around my body to rest on the side of my neck while his lips began to move against my own—slow yet hungry, devouring me.

I moved my other arm to wrap around his neck, trying to pull my body flush against his. I was making a terrible decision, I knew I was. This man was a stranger, and dare I say I had never been kissed before. It was thrilling but I knew by the morning, I would regret letting the bitter get the better of me and make me act so… wild . So unlike me.

I wanted more than what he was giving me, though. I didn’t want the gentle move of our lips, I wanted to feel as if they were bruising from the roughness. But the man seemed to lack the hunger that cursed me .

Beggars can’t be choosers, I thought, deciding to just allow him to go at the pace he wanted.

Kissing a stranger was a bad idea, I knew that. But that was an issue for the morning me, I reminded myself as I pulled back from the kiss but kept my body pressed closed to his. I smirked when I felt something firm press against my thigh.

The music became quiet as the song transitioned to another one. In the moment of semi-quietness I spoke boldly, “Shall we… take this somewhere else? Somewhere quiet?”

The man’s blue eyes widened, he seemed shocked by my bold proposition. But then the reality hit him that I may be his best bet of getting laid that night so he said nothing as he reached behind him. As if a magic trick, he called for a hotel card.

I giggled as I grabbed his card before I then reached at the table and grabbed my bag. The man kept a firm arm around my waist, securing me so I didn’t risk falling on my arse and ruining the mood.

I led the man through the dancing groups of people along the dance floor, pausing to momentarily kiss him to ensure he kept interested in—and needing—me. Once we got to the stairs, both of us felt too pumped to even care about keeping the tone and so we both rushed up the stairs and back out onto the black, icy cold street.

The man led me down the pavement and for what felt like miles, which was probably only mere minutes, until we ended up outside a budget chain hotel on the corner of some street between business buildings which had been vacated for the night.

I slowed my steps, hesitation overcoming me. The man sensed this as we fell out of sync with our steps. He paused and turned to me, raising an eyebrow. “You dragged me out of the club just to pussy out when we get to the door?”

His tone sounded light hearted, but I felt guilt deep inside my chest. I wanted to have sex, but was it a good idea to drunkenly have it for the first time in my life? With a stranger at that. It felt like a bad idea… But I wanted to be reckless for a night. Again, it was something morning-Ashton would need to deal with.

So I forced a wide smile as I wrapped both my arms around his own. I hugged his arm as we walked into the foyer of the hotel. The receptionist paid us no attention as she typed away on her phone.

The man led me past the foyer, to the elevators.

We waited awkwardly for an elevator to open, then the second we stepped inside his hands and lips were all over me before the doors could even close.

I gasped against his lips, and this time his kiss was all consuming and firm. His hands came to my thighs, dancing along the edge of my dress as his fingertips dared to venture upwards, but then they slid back down.

His touch was taunting, his lips finally feeling as if they were bruising. This was what I wanted, I reminded myself.

But his face popped into my head, his greeny-grey eyes and brown hair, his nose covered in freckles. He was consuming me without even being in my life, and it was going to kill me. I needed fucking Dakota Vernon rehab at this rate.

I tried my best to push the thoughts of him aside, trying to focus on the man in front of me, touching me and needing me. His lips moved from the corner of mine to trail soft kisses along my face, down my jaw and neck.

As his lips lingered on my neck as he seemed to debate leaving a mark, we were interrupted.

The elevator doors flew open, shortly joined by a bell noise. We pulled away from each other, then the rushed out of the elevator. I stood, dazed for a second before the man grabbed my hand with a chuckle and pulled me down the hallway to his room.

The man pushed his key card into the door, then the lights behind the door illuminated as the man pulled the handle down. He pushed the door open smoothly, then he pulled me inside and pushed me instantly against the nearby wall within seconds.

The man seemed to like kissing me against walls, I noted.

My hands rested on the man’s shoulders, my fingers barely able to touch the ends of his hair where it met his neck in small waves. His lips were less firm this time, slow but still hungry.

And his hands… God, his hands.

His hands found home on my waist at first, and I almost felt panic overcome me. They were too close to my stomach, get them away, I wanted to scream at him.

But then his one hand came up to hold the back of my neck as his kisses turned open mouthed, his tongue daring to brush against mine lazily.

His other hand moved back to my thighs, this time brushing against the inside of my right thigh. And he didn’t stop his movements this time. His fingers danced higher and higher, getting closer to the cotton of my plain black underwear.

I was thankful I had worn simple underwear and not granny underwear, which was what most of my underwear drawer was consumed of.

The man’s fingers danced over the front of my underwear, then he deemed we had been kissing enough and pulled his hands back before he made his way further into the room without saying anything.

I let out a breath I was holding, then looked around surprised. I stood there for several seconds, on the midst of disassociating. Then I heard his voice calling for me, “What are you doing? Come on and come here then.”

I pushed myself off the wall and made my way further into the room after him, only to find him lying on the bed with an arm supporting his head. His eyes watched me carefully as his free hand came out to me, motioning for me to get onto the bed also.

I noticed he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore, and I noted he was okay looking. He wasn’t the most handsome guy I had ever seen, but he wasn’t ugly. He was just… okay looking.

Sure I wasn’t the prettiest woman alive so who was I to judge? But even ugly women liked hot men.

I went to move around to get onto the empty side of the bed, but the man wasn’t having any of that and grabbed my hand before he pulled me on top of him.

I moved my body to be more comfortable, my legs either side of his own as I straddled his lap. I looked down at the man, tilting my head to the side slightly as I awaited further demands. That was when I noticed his race suit had been unzipped, showing he was wearing a vest top under it.

The man reached up and grabbed the back of my neck before he pulled me down for a kiss. Our lips met, and this time he parted our lips instantly and brushed his tongue against mine continuously.

And it made me feel fucking sick.

I wanted to climb off of him and run out of the room, but man seemed to have semi-permanent plans for me for the night as his hands moved to my thighs once again.

This time he wasted no time in grabbing for my arse, his hands massaging the skin lightly before he raised one hand and brought it back down in a spank.

I gasped against his lips and pulled back slightly for a second, about to ask if he had just really fucking spanked me out of nowhere. But his lips just chased my own, pulling me back down to remain silent.

His hands alternated every now and then, and soon enough they dared to venture to my front where he just pulled my underwear to the side.

“I’m hard enough,” He stated, his eyes flickering from mine to between us.

My mouth fell open as I pulled back. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to ask if he was fucking serious , but he seemed so. God, I had to go and pick a fucking virgin for my first time, didn’t I? He seemed all confident, so I just assumed he had some kind of knowledge at least.

But no. With how he didn’t even bother try to loosen me up, I either expected him to be a virgin, or a selfish fucking cunt. And I wasn’t unsure which was the worse option.

I bit back a sigh, watching as his hands went to his boxers. He pulled his cock free and then stared back at me once again, as if he expected me to know exactly what to do.

I bit the inside of my cheek, then I moved to hover over his crotch. I reached between us, my fingers barely glassing over his skin as I sank down uncomfortable onto him.

I had toys. I had fucked myself with them several times before. But at least I knew how to get myself wet enough beforehand so it was comfortable and easy. I was not wet enough for this man’s cock to be inside me, but yet here I was with it inside me.

I felt nothing. No desire for the man under me. He couldn’t even bother stretch me out, and seemed to want me to make all the fucking effort. I wanted this to be over with so I could fucking leave.

I moved my hips back and forth in a small line, and heard the man gasp. The sensation felt good to me also. It really wasn’t hard to make a woman wet, but it still wasn’t enough for me.

I dared to reach a hand between my legs, wanting to rub my clit to get some pleasure for myself. But then the man grabbed my hands and pinned them behind my back with one hand, his other hand daring to reach for my side.

“Move up and down,” He let out breathily, as if he was already close to climax.

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. At least once I was done with this man, I could say I was no longer a virgin.

I did as he asked, using my thighs to push me up, then sink back down slowly. The man let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes with his face twisted. I cringed, thankful he couldn’t see my face.

He finally let my hands go, and I had decided it was obvious I wasn’t going to cum from having sex with this man. So I focused on getting him off as quick as possible so I could leave sooner.

I kept the motion going, moving up and down slowly, pausing to grind against him slightly when my thighs began to burn. I hoped he came soon, my thighs were going to give out otherwise.

And like magic, as if I was a witch and cursed the man, he let out some faster breaths before he screwed his face tight. He grabbed my hips and forced me to stop moving, breathing out with a lazy smile, “Did you cum too?”

I had to bite back a laugh as I decided to climb off him and lay down on the bed beside him. I said nothing, but the stupid fucking man still took that as a sign the sex was ‘amazing’.

“Wore you out have I?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

I hummed lazily, looking up at the ceiling with deep regret settling into the pits of my stomach.

Thank fuck I was on the pill.

I turned to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. November 1 st .