9. Sam
Sam
Arms wrap around me, catching me from slamming onto the worn hardwood floor when I am forcefully yanked from orgasm coma.
“What the hell?” I shriek, rubbing my nose as if it would help relieve the sting.
“Time to wake up, sunshine,” Shadow orders, tossing something onto the stand next to the bed as if giving me a heart attack was no big deal.
Why would it be? It’s not like he cares about me.
I was a job. Disgust worms its way into my mind.
I paid for sex. The reality of my decision is finally crashing down on me, but I have no time to wallow in self-pity.
My hands are pulled from my face, and glowing blue eyes stare down at me.
I can still feel him all over me. My hellcat is sore and pulsing from the relentless orgasms. That’s what she’s called now.
Hellcat. The fucking demon between my legs came straight from hell.
There’s no other way to describe it because, as disgusted as I am with myself, I want more.
“Give me a color,” he demands.
“It doesn’t matter what I feel. Our time is over,” I mumble.
The laugh that escapes the mask vibrates straight to my core.
The grip on my wrists tightens, and I am pulled up from the mattress, spun around so fast my head spins, and then my face and chest are buried into the sheets.
Confusion over the soft material of my pants sliding down my legs is quickly replaced with a yelp.
Smack.
“I said give me a fucking color.”
No words are able to form. My thoughts are all on separate tracks, wrecking into each other and on fire.
Smack.
“Green!”
Teeth graze my ass cheek and my hips grind into the edge of the mattress.
I blink away the tears. When I’m home in my own bed, I’ll dissect my issues then.
Right now, I am still in this game, apparently.
My phone and bank account need be taken away from me because I would willingly give everything I have to experience this every day.
And that’s a fucking problem. This is an addiction I cannot feed.
I will not be the girl who pays strangers to fuck her.
I can’t. A single tear breaks through my barrier.
He releases my wrists and pulls the fuzzy pants back up my legs, and I swear these came from my dresser, but that’s impossible.
“Time to go home.”
I groan. The last thing I want to do right now is walk all the way back to my car. Wherever that may be. I severely lack survival skills. The dread is short-lived when I step outside of the small cabin and see my car parked right out front. How long was I asleep?
“Umm…thanks for…” I stutter, embarrassment creeping up my neck and to my cheeks.
“Thanks for making you come…over and over again until your body couldn’t take anymore and you passed out from orgasm exhaustion?” Shadow jokes.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. For that,” I agree and clamber into the driver’s seat of my car while Shadow watches every movement.
It’s dark, but the moon highlights the figure in my rearview mirror as I drive away from the best and worst decision I’ve ever made.
When I reach the end of the long makeshift driveway, I pull up my home address on my phone to know which way to go.
I drive in silence, but my thoughts are loud enough to fill the void.
You know those times when you pile your plate high with the biggest slice of cake possible, eat the entire thing because it’s too damn good to stop, and afterwards you regret ever taking a bite because you are bloated and sick to your stomach? That is the way I’m feeling right now.
Exhaustion seeps into my bones as I slowly make my way into my house.
My hands trembled as I fumbled with the key.
It’s late. I’m tired and sore, and my mind is spinning.
The night was exactly what I wanted, so why do I feel so awful about myself?
Would it have made it better if I had woken to his arms wrapped around me in comfort and not to stop me from smashing onto the floor to kick me out? Probably.
“Shit,” I mumble to myself when I get a look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror after removing the pajamas that somehow got on my body and that look a hell of a lot like ones I own.
I run my fingers over the marks the ropes left on my skin, feeling the slight indentation.
“Stop it,” I whine to my demon pussy that is telling me none of this was a terrible idea and that I need to do it again ASAP.
I’m a mess, and I’m not just talking about my appearance.
A couple leaves and tiny sticks fall out of my hair in the shower, and I hiss when the sudsy cloth grazes my overused clit.
At least I got my money’s worth. My head drops again and shoulders sag.
This is not okay, no matter how you look at it.
I lazily dry off, slip into another pair of pajamas, and curl into a ball under my comforter.
* * *
My body aches as if I were kicked by a giant and rolled down a mountainside when I roll out of bed.
No amount of yoga would ever have prepared me for last night’s adventure.
While there’s still a slimy layer of disgust I can’t seem to brush off, I can’t lie to myself and say I completely regret it.
It was amazing. And that’s the problem. It was amazing because I paid for it to be amazing.
If I met that person today, I’d have no idea who he was, but he would know me.
Shadow knows what I look like and the sinful things I enjoy.
I’m a sexually frustrated idiot for not thinking any of this through.
Men get blamed for thinking with their cocks.
Well, my pussy was clearly the one making all the decisions last night.
I fill my mug with coffee, toss on my pink robe with large white daisies on it, and shove my feet into a pair of rainbow slipper socks.
The moment I step outside and get a whiff of fresh air and see the beautiful glow of the sun peeking over the trees, signaling a brand new day, I feel a tad lighter.
I roll my shoulders, careful not to let my coffee splash over the side of my mug, and wince.
The scrape from the arrow burns. I still can’t believe I got shot with a real arrow.
And I can’t tell a soul about it. If I did, they would shove me into a mental health facility.
The familiar sound of footsteps pound down the road, but I don’t have the energy to bolt back inside. Cole stops in front of my house, and I wonder if this is just routine for him now.
“How was your date last night?” Cole questions and I perk up.
“Good morning to you too,” I reply, slightly snarky. Who is he to be so damn nosy about my life, and how does he know I had a date? If he’s Shadow, so help me.
“Sorry. Good morning, Sam,” he corrects himself.
“What makes you think I had a date?” I ask, standing and leaning my hip against the railing.
“Your car wasn’t in the driveway last night when I drove by. I just assumed you were out that late because you were on a date.” He runs his hands through his hair and then stretches to busy his hands. If I would have gone missing, he would be the first person to notice.
“It wasn’t a date, just…business,” I lie.
Sort of. The reminder that I paid someone to fuck me makes me frown again.
I cover the sudden shift in my demeanor behind a long drink of my coffee.
He studies me as if he can hear the words I left unsaid.
My little adventure in the woods will remain my secret and mine only until I die. Well…and Shadow’s, whoever he may be.
“If it wasn’t a date, can it be one next weekend? With me? I’ll bring dinner and we can just hang out. Get to know each other.”
Does he really expect me to be okay sitting at home suffering through small talk when I was just hunted and fucked into unconsciousness?
That sounds absolutely horrid. I add call a therapist to the notepad in my brain.
Maybe a normal, boring date would make me feel less like a disgusting sex buyer.
Sex payer? Sex customer? Ugh, they all sound so… gross.
“Maybe,” I reply with hesitation, but his eyes still light up.
He begins his run again before replying over his shoulder, “I’m leaving before you take it back. Have a great day, beautiful.”
I roll my eyes. That man is full of shit. I saw what I looked like in the mirror before I stepped outside. Beautiful disaster is more like it.
With him gone, I go back to enjoying Mother Nature’s reset button in peace for a while longer.
Since today was my day off, I spent my free time weeding my flower beds, mowing the grass, and treating myself to takeout so I didn’t have to cook dinner.
By the time evening comes, a hot bath is screaming my name.
Every movement I made reminded me of my sins.
And then I had to fight the battle that was raging between my brain and my pussy demon.
While the tub is filling up, I go to my room to grab my earbuds off the nightstand.
A piece of paper on the floor under my bed catches my attention, and I stoop to grab it.
It’s the in-case-I’m-murdered note I scribbled down last night.
I wanted this no matter the consequences, so I’ve got to stop being so hard on myself.
Past me and present me need to get on the same page.
It happened, it was great, and now that memory can be a wet dream in the future.
I shove my earbuds into my ears and grab my phone to turn on my playlist. A missed message from Shadow displays across my screen.
Phantom_Shadow: Meet me tonight. I’ll send you another pin.
I clear my notifications, ignoring the message even though my body is telling me I’m an idiot. Another message appears instantly.
Phantom_Shadow: I can come to you this time.
I turn the water off and hesitate for several moments before I again clear my notifications and delete the app.
If the temptation is gone, I won’t give in.
Testing the water with my toes first, I step into the tub and adjust the headrest. Before I can lay my phone down, my music is interrupted. Again.
SINS app installed.
What the actual fuck?
Phantom_Shadow: I’ve seen you. Don’t hide from me now.
What is this? Blackmail? Or does he think I’m that desperate I’ll keep him on my daily calendar? I’d go broke.
Hidden_Embers: Get your paycheck somewhere else.
Swiping down, I enable airplane mode and select the playlist saved on my phone.
Music plays in my ears, but my mind is replaying last night, and I can’t help but rest my hand between my legs.
Something is seriously wrong with me. Emotions are still battling within.
Some urging me to do it again, others making me feel dirty, and some are embracing me knowing I needed it.
I sink deeper into the water, seeking the artificial comfort that the warmth of the water offers while “HOT TO GO!” by Chappell Roan blocks out the world. My body wiggles under the water while I hum to the beat. Music has a way of being therapy all on its own.
The smile that was tugging on my lips is washed away in an instant when my head is shoved underwater.