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Chapter 1
Audry
The longer I stared at it, the more this lipstick looked like a dick.
I twisted the crimson case, watching the sparkling stain rise upward. The shimmer of the glitter in the matte liquid caught my eye and a soft chuckle escaped me, amplified by the alcohol coursing through my system, making me giddy. As I applied the lipstick, its sweet fragrance filled my nostrils. With a single pop of my lips, I was content.
I flipped my hair, readjusting the curls. My stomach rolled as I swayed again, the room tilting as I struggled to stay upright.
The band playing outside the door mixed with the unintelligible chatter and laughter of bar goers, vibrating the bathroom walls. I leaned against the counter, relishing the coolness of the granite on my hot skin. The stickiness of the floor beneath my boots annoyed me, its tackiness enunciating each movement with a squeak.
My phone buzzed on the counter, joining the cacophony of annoyances.
Quinton
Where r u? ;)
A fire grew in my belly as I stared at the flashing message, the words blurring. A smile wrapped across my lips as I thought of the trouble I could get into tonight.
Me
Bathroom. Care 2 join?
I typed back the somewhat legible response to Quinton, my most recent hook up. He was a consistent name I could throw around to my parents. They wanted me married and most likely pregnant by now. They didn't like the carousel of rotating men, and my lies of who I was with and what I was doing were getting hard to keep up with. Quinton also checked my box as someone I could always count on for a great fuck at a moment's notice, along with an alright dinner partner.
A part of me wished I could settle down…a small, locked away part that longed for my mother's approval. But I saw what relationships did—to Sofya, my best friend, and hell, even to my own mother.
Quinton
Be right there.
My stomach clenched in knots in anticipation. I peeked into each of the stalls, finding them empty and just as gross as one would expect them to be. Bottles of beer, plastic cocktail cups, and a myriad of trash lined the floors around each toilet.
I pushed open the final stall, and the putrid smell of stale urine and vomit assaulted me, forcing me to gag. I recoiled in disgust, my nose turned up as I slammed the stall door shut.
Isn’t the worst place I’ve fucked someone, I thought.
The faint desire mixed with a tinge of embarrassment consumed me as I pondered through my myriad of hookups. I didn't remember their names, just a blur over the past two years. Bars, alleyways, cars, parks…the list went on. Something about a man underneath me, moaning my name, made me feel powerful. I could bring them to their knees before me with a soft moan and the promise of something more.
A player, I thought. The words echoed through my mind, bringing a subtle weight to my stomach.Just a sex-capade. The memories of Sofya, my best friend since childhood, and the events that unfolded flooded back. It felt like an eternity had passed since we laughed together at The Escape, joking about what her first sex-capade and introduction to the world would be. She broke the first player rule, meeting her ex-fiance, Daniel, who she promised to love. Regardless of how far away anything felt, it was only a year since she moved away, leaving behind all memories of him and, in turn, me.
I adjusted my hair, running my fingers underneath it and increasing the volume. The movement drew my focus away from the less than festive memories. I didn't want to think about Sofya anymore. My lip quivered as I tried to calm myself down.
I wanted Quinton. “This,” I said softly, gazing at the hollow person in the mirror, “is exactly what I need.” The young girl staring back at me with a vacant expression longed for something deeper, craving more love and a genuineness that didn't exist. This wasn't a fairytale, and I refused to risk my heart on fiction.
The door opened a crack, Quinton slipping in quietly. His dark eyes dragged along my body like a physical touch, banishing whatever remained of my hesitation or any semblance of regret. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air, musky and masculine. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his muscles rippling beneath a tight shirt. His hair was gelled back and keptshort. Line art tattoos peeked out from under his sleeve. A single scar cut through his right eyebrow, although when asked about it, the story always changed.
His teeth glowed in the dim light as he drew his lips into a Cheshire grin. He twisted the lock shut. The sound of it echoed along the tiles and rattled my insides with the anticipation of what awaited me.
Quinton stalked toward me, the soft sound of his footsteps squeaking against that damn sticky tile. A shiver ran down my spine, along with heat straight to my core.
“Might I say you look extraordinarily sexy tonight?” he said, tugging me into his arms by my waist. He pressed his lips against my neck, nibbling against the sensitive flesh.
My breath caught in my throat, and that fluttering feeling erupted in my stomach.Nope, just a hookup.
His fingers dragged down between my skirt, wasting no time to push the thin fabric of my thong to the side.
“Exactly the type of wet cunt I need to slam my dick into tonight,” he hissed, his lips inches from my ear.
