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He gave her an incredulous look and led her to the last unoccupied stall against the wall. Then he kicked the door closed behind them. “Not exactly.”
Royce pounced on her, kissing her again. His hands caressed her breasts, which gave her that shivery, desperate hungry feeling—a continuation of what she’d craved on stage.
“New adventure?” she asked.
He’d unzipped his jeans and put on a condom. She let him lift her against the wall and push his cock inside her. “Definitely.” He kept one hand over her mouth as he sucked her tits and banged her.
Thus, Vandy got her very, very dirty, adventurous initiation to bathroom sex.
Rumor was that sex would get boring someday. Vandy had a difficult time believing it because every time they did this, it just felt so fucking good.
Fifteen minutes later, they were at the front tables ordering food. Michael and Angela were long gone, and they had missed a group of women performing Sweeney Todd.
The food had arrived when someone made a gagging noise next to them and collapsed. Vandy stared in surprise, unsure of what to do.
Royce sprang into action and tried to perform the Heimlich on the woman. “See anything come out?”
“Nothing. I don’t see anything.”
“Is she blue?” Royce tried another squeeze on the woman’s abdomen from behind.
“I can’t tell!” Vandy said. The stage lights made it difficult to tell what color anything was.
The lady went completely limp. Royce rolled her over and felt for a pulse. “Fuck, lost the pulse.”
Vandy was terrified. This was definitely a job for her parents or Raj.
“Call 911. Get me the AED.” He started doing CPR on the woman’s chest and called out to the milling bystanders. “It’s the blinking box by the bathroom.”
As Vandy explained the situation to the 911 operator, the crowd grew, watching Royce do chest compressions. He was pumping his arms very fast, and it looked very tiring.
“What can I do? Anything else? Anything else?” Vandy offered, wanting to be less useless than the bystanders.
“I need a second person to switch out with me. Can you do chest compressions?”
“No, I think I can do the breathing thing though.” She put her hand over the woman’s nose and said, “What do I do now?”
“When I count to thirty, you breathe once.”
She obeyed and said, “Royce, air is moving. Are you sure she choked on something?”
He was focused on the person who dropped off the yellow box with the AED. “Open it up, attach the pads,” Royce ordered her.
“To what?”
“It plugs into the machine, and the pads go on her chest.” Royce said, breathless from the compressions.
She held the pads in her hands. “Do I put them on through her shirt?”
“Hang on.” Roland ripped the shirt down the center. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“Medical alert tag.” He lifted a silver necklace off the woman’s chest. “Peanut allergy.” He checked her pockets and purse. “No EpiPen.”
“Someone must have one. Anybody here have an EpiPen? Anyone?” Vandy called to the crowd.
The crowd of useless bystanders stood around acting useless. She saw a subtle change in Royce’s eyes. They went from merely desperate to hopeless.
