Wait!
Before I had a chance to voice my panic, he pulled out and lifted my legs above my head. The new position cut off my airway a bit. Did the condom break? He would’ve known if it had. Right?
My head was spinning. From the alcohol, the orgasms, lack of air, I wasn’t quite sure. All I knew was that I was ready for a nap. I must’ve said that last thought out loud because he laughed.
“I’m not done with you, yet.”
He flipped me into a different position and thrust hard, but the result was the same when it was all said and done. Maybe it was a ritual of sorts, putting my legs above my head. I didn’t know, but I found it kinky.
Hours later, he was finally depleted. He frowned at his dick like he didn't think he had anything left to give me. I was dripping and had soaked the bed from squirting. Something I heard was hard for women. It should disgust me, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
By this point, I was pretty sure he’d removed his broken condom and didn’t bother donning another. Too late to do anything about it now. Not that it mattered. I trusted no one form of birth control, so I would grab the morning-after pill once I left. For now, my body just wanted to rest.
“Come ‘er,” I slurred. “Lay’re wit me.”
He looked confused when he climbed in bed. I slung one arm around him and felt him stiffen. Normally, that would be a red flag, but I had no cares right now. I was floating on a high that drugs couldn’t even maintain.
Blissfully, I shut my eyes and passed out.
???
The sun trickledin from my windows, and I mumbled trying to bat it away. I always shut my curtains after work, so I wasn’t even sure how the light was getting in.
That fact hit my brain like a ringing alarm clock.
I peeked open and muttered a curse. I was not in my bedroom. I tried to figure out where the hell I was. It wasn’t my tiny apartment, that was for sure. I tried to open my other eye, but it was stuck closed.
Fuck. Did Megan talk me into going clubbing with her again?
My arm was being weighed down by something heavy. Straining, I pulled free from the warmth and scratched at my eyelids until they popped open. Boy, did I regret that.
I was in some kind of fantasy land. The one where the bed that I was sleeping in the middle of was three sizes too big and had another occupant in it. Oh, no.
My skull throbbed as I rolled and scooted to the side. There was white carpet on the floor. What kind of fancy hotel had I walked into?
The room swayed, and I felt like I was going to vomit. But I’d been puke free since I was 16, so that would not happen. Swallowing, I tried to stand up. I failed. I sank back down, breathing deeply until the dizzies went away. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what happened last night.
I drew a big old blank.
The last thing I remembered was driving into the city to get away from it all. Usually that meant drinking until I blacked out and had to be escorted home. Or worse, Megan had to come get me. Every time that had happened, she’d bring Josh along and bitch and moan about what a pain in the ass I was, because I knew better than to go out alone, so now I was going to be in troubleyet againwith the president of the club, blah, blah, blah.
I peeped at the man lying on his stomach. His ass cheek stuck out from the bunched white sheet. I wanted to get a glimpse of his face, if only to avoid him for the rest of my life. I leaned forward but—
With a mutter, he rolled slightly and pulled the blanket up.
That was my signal to go.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near him when he woke up.
I crept around the room like a burglar and snatched up my clothes, shoes and purse. I rushed into the bathroom to get dressed. I didn’t close the door for fear that he’d wake all the way up. In a panic, I finger-brushed my teeth and tried to do something with my curls, but they were a wreck. Walk of shame indeed.
I tipped-toed my ass out of the bathroom, heels and purse in hand, and made it to the exit without alerting my unknown bedmate. But when I reached for the hotel suite door to make a quick departure, a small child with a card key was in the hall, about to knock. I gasped, but he stared at me with no surprise.
“W-who are you?” I whispered.
“Roman.” He didn’t offer any more explanation other than that.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” I mumbled, more to myself than the kid who looked like he was barely eleven.