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I spent most of the evening petting her, but she’s seeing some loving, and desperately wants to take part. I do my best with my bare feet, and she seems content with that.
This house is full of love—these three besties are a testament to that. All three are rescues, and they’re calm, collected, and certain of their worth, which shows the kind of people their owners are.
They stay with me for most of the movie, content to sleep either on my lap or at my feet—then Orion decides to fuck around, and Louis feels obliged to make him find out. I chuckle as they roll, swat at each other, hiss and jump. The savannah could seriously harm the kitten if he wanted to, but they’re playing, and all claws are sheathed. Blue wags her tail, but wisely stays out of the feline squabble. She must have been slapped by a cat a time or two, because she demonstrably knows better.
I do take the chance to get up, stretch my legs, let Blue out, and make that popcorn. It’s only eleven, and I’m not tired yet. I have the house to myself for a few more hours; I should watch another movie.
I opt to start something I’ve heard about, but never actually watched before, either because I didn’t have access to it, or because I was purposely avoiding it.
Secretary.
It’s supposed to be the precursor toFifty Shades, right? I didn’t much like the books, and the movie even less, but I’m…curious.I deliberately look for it, and find it on Netflix.
My mind travels back to dangerous territory, heading back to that elegant room. My hands tied. My clothes in pieces. His crop flashing across my legs, my breasts, my—
No, nope,niet,et non, as Beaufort would say, only with a better accent. I’m not thinking about Marius Goltz. He doesn’t exist. I certainly am not remembering bending over his cock in his car, in broad daylight, like an idiotic, sex-addled littleslut.
That’s what he reduced me to. And I’m not becoming a slut again.
Shit, this movie was a bad idea.
44
SARAH
Idon’t stop watching. Damn, I can tell why it’s so popular; even though the movie’s about pure filth, technically, it’s tastefully done. Enticing. Disturbing. At the start, it’s not even really about sex, so much as coping in this world when your brain doesn’t quite work like it’s supposed to. When you’re weird.
Sick.
In short, it’s point-blank a good movie.I’ve never self-harmed, but I relate to the message, and the struggle. And I get how Lee needed someone to just tell her what to do, how to take care of herself.
AfterSecretary, Netflix catches onto my mood and suggests one of their own movies this time. Unlike my first choice, this one is unabashed filth. There’s nothing tasteful about the mafia drama full of sex; it’s close to porn, really.
I’m halfway through when my phone buzzes. Not many people text me, especially at this time. Vi, Dez, and Riley are my most frequent contacts, and they’re all likely on dates.
Unknown: I’m thinking of you.
Unknown: Daydreaming to about your cunt strangling my cock again.
Unknown: And working your mouth.
Unknown: And those tits of yours. Damn, Sarah. You’re driving me insane.
There are exactly two men who could be sending me that type of message, and one of them, I blocked the moment I managed to get the hell out of Lone Pine.
Still, I check. Brandon could have gotten another phone.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Do you often fuck random people, your highness? And if so, can I watch?
I quickly change the contact name to Marius, quieting the annoyingly reasonable voice that tells me what I should do is block his ass, too.
The thing is, I don’t particularly want to. Besides, I should have his number. We’re circulating in the same group of friends. Something might happen.
I know myself enough to realize that’s bullshit, but if anyone asks, I’ll stick to that reason. I don’t want to block him because if I do, I won’t get any more texts.
Me: How did you get my number?
