Shade was right. By the end of the evening, in fact, by only halfway through the evening, I am screaming his name.
Chapter Four
(Or: Another glimpse into Shade’s Male Mind)
Shade
Allison’s body is tight and hot and nothing like I expected. But then, I’ve come to realize that nothing in this line of work is ever what I should expect.
And for that, I should be thankful.
I’m going to f**k Allison into the wee hours of the night.
And for that, I know she will be thankful.
**End cohesive thought here as all blood is diverted away from the brain and into the male head that is not capable of significant thought**
Chapter Five
(Or: It’s a Great Day for an Attempted Murder)
Alli
I wake up feeling….satisfied.
Since it is Saturday, I don’t have to roll out of bed and rush to the shower in a bleary-eyed haze. I lie still and lazy, staring up at the ceiling, remembering last night.
Holy. Shizz.
Memories of Shade’s lips trailing over my entire body fill up my mind. His fingers were everywhere, fondling, touching, pulling, kneading.
I gulp.
I never ever ever knew that f**king could be like that. And it was f**king. You can’t call it making love when there was no love involved. But it was soft and sensuous, then hard and rough, then soft again. I swallow hard, my fingers touching my neck. At one point, after Shade released my handcuffs, he f**ked me from behind and held me in place by the back of my neck.
It was hard and rough and primal.
And I liked it.
What is wrong with me??
I push off the covers and step over my going-out clothes that I had discarded on the floor. I slept na**d for the first time in a very long time. Actually, make that ever.
There is nothing wrong with me, I decide as I stare into the mirror and brush my teeth.
I’m a healthy, red-blooded female. I like sex. I have every right to explore this new side of me. .I scrub my teeth vigorously as I debate internally with my conscious.
I don’t need to feel guilty. I did nothing wrong.
I glare at myself and then spit.
And then as I straighten back up, Sophie’s alarmed face is behind me in the mirror.
“Mom! Geez! Put some clothes on. God!”
She turns away as she slaps a hand over her eyes and I feel blood rushing to my cheeks while I reach for a robe.
“I’m sorry, Soph. I didn’t know you were back so soon. Wait. Why am I apologizing? It’s my bathroom. If you knocked first, you wouldn’t be surprised.”
I paste a nonchalant look on my face and turn around.
Sophie is staring at me.
“Where did you go last night wearing those shoes?”
She points to my pile of discarded clothing.
“Oh. Sara and I just went out dancing last night. We needed to blow off some steam. Did you have fun at your dad’s? Why are you home so early? I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”
Rick doesn’t take her for his weekends as often as he can. In fact, he rarely does. And Sophie does a good job of acting like she doesn’t care. But I know she does. And it makes me want to put those stilettos back on and march over to his freaking condo and impale him squarely in the ass.
Sophie sighs, bringing me back to the present and away from my murderous thoughts.
“Daddy had to work today, apparently. I didn’t want to sit in his condo all day because there’s nothing to do there. So I asked him to bring me here on his way to work. Was that okay? He’s going to pick me back up on his way home.”
She’s looking at me worriedly and I rush to reassure her, even though I don’t relish the thought of seeing Rick today. In fact, a little bile rises up in my throat, sour and acidic. But I swallow it and nod.
“Of course, sweetie. That’s fine. I’m always glad to have you home.”
Her face is instantly relieved and then slips once more into the self-assured teen that she is.
“I thought maybe we could go shopping today, if you don’t have anything to do. We can have a mother/daughter day. I need some black jeans. What do you think?”
I scrunch up my nose as I dig through my dresser drawer for my own jeans.
“Hmm. It depends. If they aren’t $400 jeans, then maybe. If they are, then you need to ask your dad.”
Sophie laughs, as though she’d never ask me to buy something so ridiculous. We both know that isn’t the case.
“Please, mom. We can have lunch too. And maybe get our nails done.”
I sigh. I can literally feel the money flying out of my wallet as we speak. But I love my daughter. And as usual, when she wants something, I have a really hard time saying no.
“Fine,” I sigh, as I reach for my favorite stretched out, faded sweatshirt. It’s the one that I’ve had since college and long ago cut the collar out so that it hangs off my shoulders. It’s as old as the hills and does nothing for my figure, but I love it in spite of that fact.
“Fine,” I repeat. “I needed some moisturizer anyway.”
“Are you wearing that?” Sophie eyes me doubtfully.
“Don’t push it,” I raise an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes before ducking out and I finish getting ready by pulling my hair into a low ponytail and sliding on some lip-gloss. I don’t have anyone to impress today, right? I can wear what I want to, even if it is a public mall.
If I’m going to be spending god only knows how much money on my daughter’s endless wardrobe needs, I deserve to wear my favorite sweatshirt.
********
I regret the sweatshirt within two hours of putting it on.
Being wrapped up in the afterglow of great sex with someone twenty years younger than me, I had neglected to remember that it is Las Vegas in springtime. I don’t need a sweatshirt. In fact, if I could walk around na**d without going to jail for public indecency, I very well might.
But as it is, I am sweaty and grumpy as Sophie and I pile our purchases (all $793 dollars worth) in the trunk of my black Audi. To be fair, $234 dollars was used on me. The rest though, was Sophie.
“Thanks for the stuff, Mom,” she says to me brightly before she sticks her ear-buds into her ears and forgets that I exist.
Seriously. The little snot actually turns toward the window and stares out, oblivious to my presence now that I have financed her little clothing habit. I shake my head. There are times, like right now, when I can totally understand why hamsters eat their young.