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Even though I knew she was just trying to distract me, I let her. I’d spent most of the night dreaming about her fiancé, so it was a refreshing change of pace from half-remembered snatches of Dmitri picking me up, Dmitri stroking my chin, Dmitri looming over me like a smoke-scented mountain.
I didn’t contribute much to Bee’s rambling, though. I wasn’t in the right headspace to be planning much of anything, let alone her wedding to him.
By the end of the day, it became clear to me that I wasn’t the only one struggling. Bee’s voice stayed level and carefree, but she kept pacing the living room in a way that reminded me of a lion at the zoo. When I asked if she was okay, she just answered with a manic, “Never been better.”
I could not relate.
The next day was more of the same. Constant chatter, wedding planning, and lots and lots of pacing. For Bee, at least. I just sat there and watched her. If I never moved again, that’d be fine by me.
Now, for the third night in a row, I’m awake at three in the morning. And it’s once again because I was dreaming about a man I have no right to dream about.
The fact that my panties are wet makes the guilt so much worse.
By the time I swap out my underwear, I’m wide awake and troubled with anxiety. I figure a walk to the kitchen for a glass of water might help calm my nerves. I’ve just stepped out into the hallway when I hear noises. A very familiar kind of noise.
I freeze. What is that?
I close my eyes, count my breaths, and will myself not to panic. The apartment is well-protected; Dmitri swore as much. If I can hear sounds, they’re one hundred percent coming from either Bee or Dmitri.
Inching closer, I listen closely. What I first thought were low, worried whispers are in fact… moans.
Oh, God.
I peek around the corner of the archway that opens into the living room. Moving shapes writhe on the couch. At first, my still-half-asleep brain sees lions wrestling. But as my eyes adjust and reality sets in, I realize that what I’m seeing is two people, naked and joined together, breathing deeply, moaning loudly, completely wrapped up in one another and oblivious to the world around them.
I’m in hell.
I’m taut with shock. Frozen with horror from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I need to turn away. I need to get the fuck out of here. But it’s as though the masochistic part of my brain has taken over and it’s forcing me to watch.
“Yeah… fuck, like that…” Bee’s voice is half-strangled as she collapses back onto the sofa, out of my sight. Arching her head over the armrest, her hair drapes down to the floor like a curtain of silk as her lips part in pleasure and that other dark silhouette dives between her legs. “Eat me out, baby. Make me come… Make me…”
I have half a mind to slap my hands over my ears and run down the hallway screaming showtunes as loud as I can. As it stands, I don’t want them to know I’m here. I don’t want them to know I’ve seen them.
I retreat slowly, with my heart in my throat. I’m just about to turn away when something occurs to me. The legs coming off the far end of the couch, opposite of Bee… those legs are far too thin and delicate and feminine to belong to Dmitri.
And if it’s not Dmitri having sex with Bee, then who…?
Instead of sneaking out like I ought to, I find myself creeping forward, further into the living room.
Pervy? Yes, absolutely.
Did curiosity kill the cat? Deader than a doornail.
But do I keep going anyways?
Why, yes, yes, I do.
I round the sofa, my heart beating harder, my eyes popping as I confirm that the face buried between Bee’s legs is not Dmitri’s. Hell, it doesn’t even belong to a man. She’s being eaten out by a spikey-haired blonde with a tattoo sleeve and a pierced nipple.
“Bee!” flies out of my mouth before I can realize just what an insanely stupid thing it is to intrude here.
Bee jerks away from the blonde, who screams and grabs a cushion to cover her breasts. “What the hell?” the short-haired blonde cries out, turning to Bee with her lips glistening in the moonlight slanting through the open windows. “You said there was no one else here!”
Bee is looking at me breathlessly. “Goddammit, Wren,” she sighs. “You scared the shit out of me.” She collapses onto the sofa next to the blonde, legs akimbo without an ounce of shame. “And you ruined my orgasm. I was just about to come.”
The blonde looks at me with an arched eyebrow. “I can fix that,” she purrs before winking in my direction. “Green Eyes can watch if she wants. Hell, she can join if she wants, too.”
I stare at the blonde. “Who are you?”
