Page 39 of Hot As Ice

I should feel dirty. I should be deeply ashamed. But the feeling doesn’t come. I only feel relief that I can pay my half of the rent now, and that I had the most erotic and satisfying night of my life with Hunter.

He was rough. He tied me up. He slapped my pussy. He pulled my hair and spanked my ass. He took me into his massive shower and rubbed soap all over my body, then pressed me against the tiles and fucked me from behind, rubbing my breasts and pinching my nipples so hard I thought I would pass out. My pussy was sore and he didn’t care. Neither did I. I knew I could’ve made him stop by saying the safe word, but I didn’t.

And what does that say about me?

I was a virgin yesterday. Now I’m someone else. A woman who loves rough sex and a man telling her what to do. A woman who let a man tie her up, spank her, and slap her pussy without protest. A woman who let a man pay her for using her body.

Again, the feeling of shame and regret doesn’t come.

I log out of my bank app and pull up the essay I’ve been working on for my English class. We’ve been reading The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje. It’s a fascinating book, beautifully written. Though it has many themes, I’m most intrigued by the love affair in it – how ardent and passionate it is. My essay explores the relationship between the English patient and the woman he loves. I just wish they had a happier ending.

I’ve only written about a paragraph when Becca pokes her head into my room.

“Let’s go out,” she says.

I turn in my seat to face her. “Where?”

“Shopping and lunch?” she asks hopefully.

I look back at the cursor blinking on my screen. I still have a week before the essay is due. “Okay,” I reply, shutting my laptop. “Let’s do it.”

“Yay,” she squeals. “Thank you.”

We drive out to the town center. There are several cute boutiques, coffee shops, and restaurants lining the main street. Becca insists on visiting every single boutique. She’s very much into fashion.

“Oh my god, this dress would look amazing on you,” she says, brandishing a short red dress she’s taken off the rack.

“You think so? I don’t think red is my color.”

“Red is everyone’s color.” She hands it to me. “You have to try it on.” She grabs another dress, a sparkly gold mini with spaghetti straps. “And I’ll try this one on.”

Eventually, she’s chosen three outfits for me to try on, and so many for her that I can’t keep track. I end up loving the red dress she picked out. It has an off-shoulder neckline and a very short slit in the skirt. It hugs my curves like a dream.

And I can afford to buy it with the money Hunter gave me.

I can also afford to buy more jewelry-making supplies.

I feel a thrill go through me, and then feel guilty for not feeling guilty. The shop girl folds the dress and puts it in a small pink paper bag for me. Becca ends up buying the sparkly gold dress and a black skirt and white lace crop top.

Grabbing our purchases, we head into a restaurant with outdoor seating. It’s a beautiful day, chilly, but the sun is shining and the sky is mostly clear with a few puffy clouds. I feel better than I’ve felt in weeks.

“Any luck with the job hunt?” Becca asks after we’ve placed our drink orders.

“Oh. Um. Not really.”

She makes a face. “Sorry. I wish I could help, but there aren’t any openings at my place, either.”

“There aren’t any openings anywhere, it seems. I’ve applied to dozens of places. Marketing internships and retail and waitressing jobs.”

“You’ll find something. Don’t worry.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I sort of have – as Hunter’s sex toy. I wonder how she would react. The server delivers our drinks, a raspberry iced tea for me and iced coffee for Becca. I sip my drink and think, eh, what the hell.

“Would you ever sleep with a man for money?” I ask Becca, holding my breath for her answer. It’s a crazy question, and she definitely wasn’t expecting it.

She blinks. “Ew. Hell no.”

“Right. It’s totally gross. And wrong. And a million other things.”