Chapter 25 – June
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JUNE
The signing has been a whirlwind .
Seth was true to his word. Last night he ate me out until I nearly cried from overstimulation, bundled me up in a blanket, and ate pizza with me. After that, we jumped in the shower together. Of course, that turned into him pinning me against the glass wall and fucking me so hard I screamed before we ended up in bed, in the hotel-provided fluffy robes, watching shitty movies until I fell asleep on his chest.
God, I love him so much .
He kept pin-quiet all morning, closing the electric blinds to make sure I slept in before waking me up with brunch.
And another orgasm.
Grinning, I take a long drink of the water bottle in the back room. I’ve already drained almost all of it. The talk was good — but the library is busy with the sheer amount of readers here to see me. There were a few people from the press who did early interviews with me.
It’s been… nice. Slightly overwhelming, but seeing my men in the crowd, cheering me on through every moment so far, has made it easier.
Rubbing my chest, I lean back in the chair, taking a slow breath. I get ten minutes before I need to be back out there for a final goodbye. There was a signing limit on books, but I told everyone that the pack and I brought goodie bags and they seemed excited.
Is it cheesy? Maybe . But I feel good for the first time in months, genuine pride in myself for reaching this point in my career where a roomful of people want to meet me, want my scribble in their book. It’s all worth the anxiety and the path it took for me to get here.
My head spins a bit as I sit up. Touching my forehead, I blink slowly, glancing at the water bottle. I’ve not had a lot of food today, but Seth and I did eat brunch — maybe I can convince all of them to come back to the hotel with Seth and I tonight —
I look around for my phone, the room spinning as a bolt of worry pangs through me.
My phone isn’t here.
Picking up the water bottle, I lift it, about to take a sip to settle my churning stomach when I notice a layer of something settled at the bottom.
My heart lurches, trying to figure out what’s going on just as the door opens.
“There you are.”
The man’s voice sounds slurred as I slump to one side, the smell of him invading my senses — cloyingly chemical, choking me as vague memories flash through my mind — the grocery store, the water bottles — my eyes flutter, my heart pounding as I feel whatever was in the bottle start to drag me into unconsciousness.
“Wha —”
The stranger shushes me, unfamiliar arms wrapping around me as he picks me up. “Go to sleep, baby girl. We’ll be there when you wake up.”