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Yes!
With a loud scream and my insides quivering all over Vitamin D, I come so hard the white flecks in my vision go supernova and every nerve ending in my body sizzles with electric ecstasy.
Above me, Evan groans in pleasure, grinding into me as he reaches his release.
The aftermath is as soft and foggy as the sex was wild. Holding me like a little spoon, Evan strokes me all over as I catch my breath. I feel both ridiculously happy and wrung out, so I yawn. Loudly.
Evan chuckles into my hair. “Did my performance bore you that much?”
Since he already sounds cocky, I don’t tell him I have a case of the proverbial fucked-out brains—or that his performance was the best I’ve ever experienced, by a wide margin. Instead, I yawn again. “You did well. Especially considering it was our first time.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he says. “I think you owe me another rematch.”
He wants to do that whole thing again? With me? The thought fills me with languid hope and contentedness as I fall asleep.
I wake up because my phone has somehow turned into a jackhammer, and its hellish vibrations are drilling a hole in my skull.
I check what the infernal device wants.
Oh. It’s a video call from Jolene and Dorothy. I think I know two people by those names, but I don’t want to talk to them right now. Or talk at all.
I mean to dismiss the call, but I accidentally click “accept”—the dexterity of my fingers is clearly compromised.
“You slut,” Jolene says instead of a hello. “You totally got some last night.”
Is Jolene like that boy in The Sixth Sense, but in her case, she sees freshly fucked people?
Speaking of freshly fucked, it’s all coming back to me now. Drinks. Strip Scrabble. Vitamin D overdose.
Blood leaving my face, I turn to see if the owner of Vitamin D has heard what Jolene said.
Hmm. Evan is missing from the bed.
Weird. I’m pretty sure this is his house.
“I’ll call you back,” I say in a hoarse voice. “Oh, and please, for the love of all the vacation gods, do not call me at the crack of dawn.”
“Actually, it’s noon,” Dorothy says defensively just as I hang up on them.
Noon? I immediately think of Reagan and start dialing the camp. Once I hear his cheerful and excited voice on the other end, I breathe a sigh of relief and wish him a good day, careful not to do so too loudly.
After we say our goodbyes, I check my Octothorpe Glorp, half expecting my blood alcohol content to conveniently appear on the screen.
My dear Precious, if I could dream, I’d dream about being a phlebotomist so that I could have access to the healing elixir that is your life’s blood. I’d gladly inform you of BAC, or infections, or unwanted pregnancies, or if your blood tastes bad. Alas, the elixir is not accessible to me… at least outside of my fantasies.
Hmm. Where is Evan?
“Evan?” I shout, but it comes out like a husky whisper.
I walk up to the bathroom and knock.
No reply.
I pull the door open.
The room is empty.
Maybe this is a blessing in disguise? I’m probably not in any condition to be seen by Evan, or anyone else at the moment.
