My head lolls against my chest as I look down, but my eyes are having a little trouble focusing. When my double-vision realigns, I gasp at what I see. “Your hand is totally up my dress right now,” I whisper to him, as if he didn’t know.
“Your skin is fucking soft,” he murmurs in my hair as his lips start nuzzling into my neck.
Whoa.
My head is spinning. His hand is touching my thigh, going higher and higher. My brain is going off like sparklers, and alcohol is still saturated in my system. People’s voices are all around me, distorted and loud against the pulsing music from the speakers.
My head feels spinny, and I suddenly find that I desperately need a pause button. I need to think. I need my brain to be capable of thinking again.
“You’re so damn sexy, baby,” I hear Sparrow say.
No, this is wrong. This is all wrong.
I know I added sex on my to-do list, but this doesn’t feel right.
“Wait…” I murmur as I try to squint my eyes and force myself to focus. But my brain is not working right, and everything is distorted. I can’t tell how far away the fire is, or if Sparrow now has two hands up my skirt, or what any of the people in the group are talking about.
Alarm bells are going off in my head, but every time I try to latch on and understand what’s happening, it drifts away. All the while, Sparrow continues to blow more smoke into my face, and I get more and more fucked up.
When his fingers brush against my panties and start pulling them aside, right there in front of everyone, my whole body tenses.
“Wait,” I say, as I try to grab his wrist to stop him.
I don’t think I want him to touch me there. I suddenly regret all the drinks I had and the weed I’ve inhaled. Paranoia sets in. I don’t know any of these people. I need Blue or Bea. I need Hum Judy or her guys. I need Warren.
“Who are they?” Sparrow asks, letting me know I’ve spoken aloud.
“My…” I can’t even finish my sentence before I trail off, unable to string together more words. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to get the world to stop spinning.
“Let me make you feel good, baby.”
I don’t like him calling me baby. I don’t like him touching me either.
When I feel his fingers dip under my panties, panic consumes me. I jerk away violently from his lap, causing me to go crashing down on my hands and knees as I fall to the ground. I cry out in pain, and Sparrow quickly jumps up to help me back on my feet.
“Shit, dude. She’s totally fucked up. You should get her out of here,” an echoing voice says.
My whole body is one continuous tremor.
“Relax, baby,” Sparrow tells me smoothly as his arm wraps around my waist. “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll take care of you.”
I know he doesn’t mean that in the way that Warren took care of me.
Fear clings around my heart with sharp claws as trepidation rises up my throat like a lump. But the world is moving too fast for me. Spinning, spinning, spinning. My brain can’t form a proper response.
Scared, I try to shake my head to rid myself of the fogginess. My mouth feels dry, my heart is racing, but his hands are already around me, and he’s walking me towards the gated parking lot. I try to get out of his grasp, but he has a firm hold on me, and I keep stumbling in my shoes.
“No… I’m not…” I shake my head again, but it only makes the spinning worse. “I don’t want to...please...just stop.”
“Relax baby,” he purrs. “I got you.”
“She said fucking stop.”
The cold voice halts Sparrow in his tracks.
He turns around, taking me with him, and I have to squint at the sight. With the fire pit burning behind him, all I can see is a dark silhouette of a menacing shadow looming before us like a beautiful demon from hell.
I sob in relief at the sight of him.
I try to go to Warren, but Sparrow’s fingers dig into my waist, holding me back.
The looming shadow strides forward inordinately slowly—or maybe that’s just what my foggy brain is interpreting.
It seems like it takes ages until he’s finally standing before us, and I can see the wrath on Warren Knight’s face. “Let her go, and walk away.”