Page 27 of Off the Rails

Am I safe?

I took a step forward, peeking out the window.

Could I survive a two story drop?

Moving back to the door, I clicked the lock into place. I was almost certain that they would have a key somewhere in the house. But at least the door was metal, heavy. It would take a fucking Terminator to break the door in.

A shiver ran down my spine as I pictured it. The three of them — Cyrus in particular — weren’t far enough off. They were huge, covered in tattoos and muscles bigger than my fucking face.

I was outnumbered. Completely alone.

No one knew where I was.

Trying to shake the thought, because there was nothing I could do about it now that I was locked in their house, I moved toward the bathroom door.

The polished concrete floors were continuous. As were the walls. But here, the brick was more present. A dark, sleek vanity floated on the wall.

A standing tub sat near the windows with the same view as the bedroom.

From the wall, a black showerhead came out of the wall, not a glass wall or door in sight. Just a drain at the center of the room.

Approaching the sink, I looked in the backlit, round mirror over the vanity. My makeup was smeared, my skin smudged with dirt. Twigs and leaves rested in my bleach blonde nest of hair.

“Jesus.” I shook my head as I started to pick the pieces from my scalp.

I hadn’t caught a glimpse of myself since I left Lola’s place a couple days ago. And wow. It made me question Blade’s sanity. How could she possibly want to fuck me when I looked like such a fucking mess?

Because she’s a sick fucking freak.

Turning on the shower, I let the water get hot. Once it was close to boiling my flesh clean off the bone, I hopped in.

A moan echoed off the walls as I felt the high-pressure showerhead beat into my back.

A hot shower was already a luxury I was rarely afforded. Most of the couchsurfing I did was between trailers and forgotten apartments where the rent was too cheap to complain.

This place is fucking nice.

Wiping the makeup from my face with whatever face cleanser was in the shower niche, my mind begged for a reason that these three could be living here.

None of it made sense. If the other two were as attractive as Blade, they had no need to hunt women to get laid. And if this apartment, Cyrus’ watch, and the cash prize they’d offered me was anything to go off of, they could have lived anywhere.

Why here?

I couldn’t make sense of it, even as my eyelids grew heavy in the steamy shower.

Cleaning myself off, I felt the slick pleasure between my legs, what was left of Blade’s night with me, dripping down my leg.

I groaned as I felt it on my hands. Wiping it away, I couldn’t stop myself from moaning. I was still sensitive, my body still wanting more.

Maybe it was just the luxury bathing experience.

Yeah, it’s that.

My hand wandered back to my pussy, my head rolling back as I explored my hard clit. Blade had barely needed to touch me before I felt myself throbbing for her.

To be fair, it had been a long time since I came. It wasn’t the easiest to touch yourself while sleeping on someone’s couch.

And the sex I had with men was less than satisfactory.