“Don’t be a bitch. Help me get her clothes off.”
That voice doesn’t sound anything like the Adam I know. It was mean. All his careful gentility is gone.
“Fine,” Rachel sighs, “but just her top. That’s all you’ll need for the pictures.”
“Whatever,” Adam says as they both move closer to me.
Run. Run. Escape.
But my arms and legs barely respond and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a low groan.
“You hear that?” Adam laughs nastily. “She wants it. She’s practically begging for it.”
“Don’t be an ass.” Rachel comes over and shoves Adam out of the way, sitting on the bed beside me. I try desperately to make eye-contact with her but she studiously avoids looking at my face as she lifts me up enough to pull my t-shirt off over my head.
I’m left in the red lingerie I was wearing under my ballgown as she settles me back onto the pillows.
“Fuck, her nipples are pierced,” Adam mutters. “I knew she was hot, didn’t know she had a wild side.”
I can’t move my hands to cover my breasts but my shoulders hunch.
“Let’s just snap some pics and then leave her alone.”
“Don’t be such a buzzkill.”
The bed dips again and thick, cloying cologne wafts over me. Shivers crawl down my spine. It’s him. Adam. The man I completely misjudged. The monster behind the handsome prince’s mask. Gods, how could I have been so stupid as to come here tonight.
And Rachel… I search her out with my heavy eyes. She’s got her back turned as Adam climbs into bed with me.
When she finally turns around, she’s holding her phone.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
My confused brain takes a second to make sense out of the obvious, and it’s not until Adam pulls me against his bare chest, settling my hand against his too-pale skin and a camera flash goes off that it finally clicks.
They’re taking pictures of me. Naked pictures.
I want to scratch Adam’s eyes out and kick him in the balls. And then tear Rachel’s hair out by her pretty blonde roots.
Instead, all I can do is give confused, disagreeing moans as Adam moves me this way and that, moving my hair to get the best shot of my face, sometimes cupping my face, all the time making me want to barf on his overly waxed chest.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rachel announces. “Let’s go back to your bedroom.”
“I don’t know,” Adam murmurs, running his hand down my chest and squeezing me. “I think we could have a lot of fun right here. You know how much I like them quiet and willing like this.”
“She’s not willing, she’s out of it.” Rachel’s voice is sharp, but then it softens. “But baby, I’ll do anything you want.” She moves behind Adam and starts to massage his shoulders. “I’ll suck you off. And I know you’ve been wanting to stick it up my ass. I’ll let you tonight. Just leave her alone.”
Finally Adam moves and his weight disappears from the mattress beside me. “You’ll let me? You’ll fucking let me?” His angry voice fills the room, echoing around my pounding head. “Have you forgotten how this arrangement works? You do what I fucking ask. And yes, I’ll take your ass. I’ll take it right here where she watches.”
But at that point, finally, blessedly, I pass out.
Twenty-Eight
Present Day
Daphne
Oh fuck, my head. I wake up, grabbing my head in my hands and squinting against the sunlight. What hellacious things did I do to my body last night?
Which is when I look around.
Wait up. Where the hell am I?
I jerk out of bed and get to my feet.
Mistake, mistake!
I grab my head and double over, feeling so nauseous I’m shocked I don’t lose my stomach right there by the side of the bed.
When I finally manage to make it to the attached bathroom, I sit hugging the toilet bowl for another ten minutes, and finally splash my face with cool water when the worst of it has passed.
Bits and pieces of last night come back to me, but most of it is a huge blank.
I remember Rachel and I coming over to Adam’s place. Adam and I were arguing. He said I was letting my Mom and Dad down. I cradle my queasy stomach as I try to remember what happened next.
I started feeling bad and Adam asked how much I’d had to drink at the party. He and Rachel helped me to the bedroom…
Then there’s just…nothing.
Nothing till I woke up a few minutes ago.
I brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush and throw on a t-shirt, then head out to the rest of the apartment to see if I can make more sense of what happened. “Adam? Hello? Rachel?”
But the place is empty. When I wander into the kitchen, there’s a note. Didn’t want to wake you, sleepyhead. There’s coffee in the carafe and some bagels and muffins. Help yourself to anything. I meant what I said last night. I was just trying to make your dreams come true. I hope we can talk more soon, Adam.
I stare at the note for a moment longer. It’s so friendly and fits in with everything I know about Adam…but something feels…off. I can’t explain it.
All I know is I don’t want to be here anymore. I shake my head and slip into my athletic shoes, then pull two heavy suitcases of my clothes behind me as I hit the elevators and head downstairs.
It’s easy to catch a cab since Adam’s place is downtown and soon I’m on my way home. I’ll have to call a moving truck this weekend to get the rest of my stuff from Adam’s and from wherever he put it in storage.
And then what? What comes next?
Logan. Everything got so crazy last night I’ve barely had two minutes to think about him, but he’s got to be hurting right now. But he’s got to understand that I wasn’t rejecting him last night, just his high-handedness. In the bedroom, yes, I love it. He commands and I obey and in a wild way I still don’t fully understand, it’s allowed me to be free. But our relationship only works if we trust each other.
I need him to trust me as absolutely as I trust him.
I take a deep breath as I let my head sink back on the seat cushion.
“Hey, I know you,” the cabbie suddenly says. “You’re famous. You’re all over the papers today.”
“What?” I lift my head up and frown at him.
He’s squinting at the rearview mirror, sizing me up. “Holy shit, it really is you. Wait till I tell my buddies, they won’t believe it.”
We come to stop at a red light and he pulls out his phone. “You mind posing for a pic? Otherwise the guys’ll never believe I drove you around.”
“Wait, what do you mean, I was in the papers—” but he’s already snapping away.
“Stop it,” I hold out my hand as the car behind us honks its horn. The light’s turned green.
The cabbie drops his phone and starts driving again. Seriously, what the hell? Was my broken engagement to Adam in the papers today? Do the gossip rags really not have better to report on?
“So were they your idea or Archer’s?”
“What?”
“The piercings,” he points to my chest. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as that sort of girl.”