Page 1 of Stay Toxic

1

I got the wrong room. I must have opened someone else’s door, right? There’s a mistake, some sort of freak reason why my key opened the lock. Never mind that I saw the metallic number 17 fastened at eye level. Maybe it said 71? 117?

I’m tired, after all. I drove all the way from home today—which would have been sixteen hours straight except my stupid car broke down twice, so make that thirty-six. I slept on the side of the road somewhere in Arizona.

Except no amount of exhaustion has ever made me incapable of reading one simple number, and the shiny 17 definitely matches the key card in my hand.

The room in front of me is larger than I expected, painted in a neutral sage, and divided in two near identical sides. Two beds, nightstands, lamps, two wardrobes. There’s a large circular rug marking the center. To the right on the closest wall, there’s a small kitchenette and I’m guessing the left leads to a bathroom, from the dorm floorplan I was sent when I enrolled to Rothford University in Thorn Falls.

I’m ignoring all that, my eyes inexorably drawn to the sex fest happening on the small double bed to my right.

Tia, you’re definitely not in Kansas anymore. Or, you know, New Mexico.

A girl’s on all fours, her narrow waist bent impossibly low to give access to the guy behind her, sitting up on his knees as he plows her into oblivion.

I can’t see her face, given the fact that it’s pressed against the pelvis of a second guy who holds her dark hair out of the way as he fucks her face.

Wet, disgusting noises fill the room. Slaps of skin against skin, moans, grunts, choked slobbers.

Holy fucking shit.

So, I’m no prude. Sure, I dress like one, but that’s because that’s the only kind of clothes Mother buys for me. And I might have attended a Catholic girls’ school my entire life, but again, it wasn’t my choice. I read naughty novels and watch porn. But never in my entire life have I witnessed anything quite as filthy as the spectacle before my eyes.

They didn’t even bother to turn the lights off, so I see everything.

Oh my god, is the one behind fucking her ass? I assumed it was her vagina first, but the angle looks a little too high for that.

Heat pulses between my legs as I gasp.

I’m about to backtrack and close the door, any minute now, when cold eyes freeze me on to the spot.

I have to go. Ask for a change of room. If Mother knew, she’d make me return home right away and never let me leave again.

But those eyes have me in a fucking chokehold.

The guy doesn’t stop driving his hips into the girl’s mouth as he watches me. He’s still entirely clothed, in dark slacks and a burgundy shirt, shiny shoes and all, though the pants are unzipped. Somehow it makes it all the more depraved. At least, the ass-fucker had the decency to get undressed.

But decent isn’t a word I’d use to describe that guy, even if I’d met him in Costco.

He’s unbearably gorgeous. Ridiculously flawless. Cheekbones sharp as blades, a soft mouth meant for sin, a strong, angular jaw and those fucking eyes, still trained on me. A smirk slowly arches up those lips. Yikes. Retreat, retreat!

Now that I’m caught, I don’t know what to do. Run away? Clear my throat and let them know this is my room?

I’d like to be the kind of person who could do that, but the first option is more like me. Yet, for some reason I’m still here.

The decision is taken out of my hands when I hear someone giggle at the end of the corridor. Panicking, I shut the door violently and run back to my car, hauling my two duffle bags and my suitcase back the way I came.

Holy fucking shit. What was that?

* * *

I immediately make my way back to the registration office where I picked up my keys less than half an hour ago. It’s blissfully quiet, as I arrived well past eleven after the hellish drive.

The polished, beautiful blonde at the reception desk smiles at me like I’m not interrupting her binge of ER reruns.

“Hello again. Ms. Cole, was it?”

She’s probably seen hundreds of students just today, given the fact that the campus opened at six this morning for the new semester, so it’s pretty suspicious that she remembers me. I make myself smile anyway.