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Of course, I had kind of ditched her last night and avoided her texts this morning.
Oops.
Mireille and Charlotte, who’d never been here before,oohed andahhed at the spa, which Aunt Madeleine had designed, as Mom started giving them a tour like she owned the place. The moment we were alone-ish, Alyssa nudged me aside, where I did my best to preemptively distract her by telling her how pretty she looked. Which normally might work.
Like if I hadn’t abandoned her in a bar last night after following Shane out of said bar, and never returned.
“Did you talk to him?” she demanded.
“Oh, we talked.” I sipped my coffee, as if last night was no big deal. An everyday event. Though, while I assumed Shane had probably been trailed out of bars by many salivating women over the years, I’d personally never followed a guy out of a bar like a horny puppy before.
Well, except Shane.
Alyssa frowned at my lack of elaboration. “Take off those sunglasses. It’s a spa, the lights are dim.”
I removed my sunglasses and allowed her a moment of horror at the sight of my no doubt bloodshot and bagged-out eyes. “Christ,” she muttered.
“Thanks. I didn’t get much sleep.”
“So, um, like what happened?” She was searching my face for clues and I could tell she was trying, hard, to pull back on her morbid curiosity.
“Well, let’s see. What happened…” I took another sip and tried to gather my thoughts, as the sudden and unwelcome recollection of details such as Shane’s thick, flushed, angry-looking cock right before he came, and that sound, that fucking animal sound he madewhenhe came—while holding me down by the throat—almost made me gush in my panties. Right here. In front of my best friend.
I was sick or something. I needed help.
“Jolie.”
“Um.” I tried to focus on her face and find words. “We did talk. But then the sex kind of took over. There were some dirty words in the middle…” I drifted off.
Alyssa blinked at me, staring. “Whathappened?”
“I mean, do you really want details? It was just like last time.”
I told her about last time, in detail, the day after it happened.
I blew out a breath. “Okay, I just lied. It was even better than last time. Like, he got even better at it.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. He did some kind of sex magic on my pussy for like hours on end, with his face, while I gradually melded from Jolie into his willing sex slave and he made us both come so hard I was about twenty percent scared I was actually gonna die. And then he did it again. A couple of times. Well… I came a bunch of times. He came twice.” I frowned. “Kind of seems unfair, doesn’t it? I mean, he did do all the work…”
Alyssa couldn’t even pull herself together to respond to that before Mom and the others were back.
“Well, where do we start?” Mom asked delightedly.
Alyssa studied me with a frown. “Massages. Definitely.” She took my chin in her fingers and squinted at my skin. “This one needs a facial. Hmm. Maybe a mask, a deep pore treatment—”
“Just give her the works.” Mom fluttered a hand in front of me, indicating that nothing less than a top-to-bottom overhaul was required. “It’s on me.”
I gave her a dirty look.
“Unless you want to look likethatin our wedding photos for all of eternity,” she said.
Right. Wedding photos. With Shane. And if I was really lucky, his modelesque fuck buddydu jour, immortalized next to me in the wedding album.
“The works it is,” Alyssa concluded, and a flock of white-robed spa attendants descended upon us with the efficiency of a pit crew at the Indy 500.
* * *
