All or nothing (Love in chaos #1) - Missy Johnson Page 0,75
this thing out of me.
“It’s me,” she calls out. “Are you going to let me in?”
“It’s open,” I manage to get out.
She walks in, her eyes widening at the sight of me hunched over the couch, thighs clenched, rocking back and forth on the floor. At least I’m not naked. I managed to half squirm my way into a dress that I found lying on the floor in my room—though I must look a mess—with only one arm through the hole and the skirt bunched up around my waist. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure why I even bothered. She sprints over to me, crouching down beside me.
“Jesus, are you okay?” She glares at me as I let out a strangled sob. “Tell me what’s wrong?” she says. She looks me over, her eyes wide with concern. “Were you attacked? Did someone break in and rape you? Talk to me, Laura. Should I be calling an ambulance? The police?” Her dark eyes study mine as I struggle to form words to answer any of her questions. “For God’s sake, Laura. Say something.”
“No ambulance,” I mutter.
I groan and clamp my legs together, gasping as my body begs for relief. This is a nightmare. I point to the bedroom, where the box is still lying on the bed. Becca stalks through to my room, returning a few seconds later with the box in her hands. Her eyes widen, to the point where they’re nearly ready to fall out of her head.
“No fucking way,” she hisses.
I nod, sweat pouring out of places I didn’t know sweat could form. She clasps her hands over her mouth and stifles her laughter, before quickly kneeling down next to me.
“What do you want me to do? Dig it out? I’ll do that for you,” she says as I glare at her. “Wait… I should’ve asked before offering. Front or back?”
“Becca,” I growl, my voice high noting at the end.
“What? I’m sorry, it was a legitimate question,” she cries, holding her hands up in defense. “You know I don’t handle poop. How on earth did you manage to get it stuck in there in the first place?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Can we discuss this later, after it’s been removed from my vagina?” I beg her.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. Okay, let’s get you down to my car.”
“Car?” I say, alarmed. “What happened to you offering to help me—”
“You seriously want me digging around in there like I’m looking for loose change down the back of the couch?” she asks seriously. Then she giggles, but she stops when she sees my expression. “Sorry. Disturbing mental image. You understand this is pushing the friendship boundaries, right?”
I nod weakly. Oh, I understand it, all right.
She sighs and helps me climb up properly onto the couch while I try to steady myself as my body begins to convulse. God, not again. I wipe a layer of sweat off my forehead and rock back and forth, riding out the orgasm as I whimper into the cushion. Then I gasp, clenching my thighs again, until it passes.
“You’re coming already? But I haven’t even worked my magic hands on you yet,” she jokes, flexing her fingers. “Hey, do you have any kitchen gloves, or—”
“Just get it out,” I beg her.
“Fine,” she grumbles as she gets down onto her knees. She lifts up the skirt of my dress and peers between my legs. “Hey, you smell really good. What kind of body wash do you use?”
“Becs.”
“Right, sorry,” she mutters. “Focus.”
I close my eyes, my toes curling as she slides a finger inside me. I groan, thrusting my knees together, because just the feel of her fingers inside me is driving me insane.
“This kind of feels like that game we used to play at Halloween, where we had to find the balls in the slime, while blindfolded,” she muses.
“Except with less balls,” I mutter.
She spends the next half a minute feeling around inside me, then she jumps to her feet and backs up so far, she’s standing against the wall on the other side of the room. She shakes her head, a mortified look on her face.
“I’m sorry, I love you, but I can’t do this. I can’t feel it anyway and what if I damage something or pull the wrong bit out?” she demands.
I laugh, even though I want to cry, because the situation is so helpless. My hands shake as I lift them to my head and cover my face. I’m so tired, and I can already feel another orgasm beginning to develop.
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“No!”
“Why not?” she asks, surprised by my sharp tone.
“Because they’ll take me to Mercy,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Yeah, because it’s the closest… Oh.” She pauses and at least tries to fight the smile forming on her lips. “It’s also where you start your residency next week. I guess this isn’t the kind of first impression you want to make.”
“You reckon?” I say, on the verge of tears. “Please, Becs, just help me.”
She frowns at me. “Can you walk?”
“No,” I whisper. “I crawled from the bed to here and it took twenty minutes.”
“Then I’ll have to carry you.” She turns around, bending her knees as she taps her back. “Jump on,” she urges me.
“What?” I protest. “I’m two inches taller than you,” I say, laughing in spite of how desperate I feel. “You can’t piggy back me all the way downstairs—”
“Unless you have a better idea, shut your trap, and get on,” she demands. I climb on, wrapping my arms around her neck as I hold on for dear life. “You know, I always dreamed that one day, you’d be having repeated orgasms while riding on my back,” she jokes, leading me into the elevator, which, thank God, is empty.
By some miracle, she manages to carry me all the way down to her car, while passing minimal people. I hurl myself across her back seat and whimper. She shuts the door and gets in, glancing back at me with a frown on her face.
“You know, I’m totally regretting getting you that gift card right now,” she grumbles.
“Really?” I mutter, grunting as a stab of pain slices through me. That can’t be good. “Well I think I’m regretting it more.”
How did this go so wrong? I picked the least scary looking toy on that damn site. Who could mess that up?
Me. Apparently, I can because here I am vibrating my way to the emergency room, instead of heaven, like I was promised on the box.
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