Flesh: Part Seven (The Flesh Series Book 7) by Sky Corgan Page A

the
information I had hoped to hear, but it was a new tidbit about
Lucian, no less. My suspicions are pretty much confirmed. Between
seeing that woman sitting on his lap and the way that he looked at,
and spoke to Janice, it's now crystal clear to me that he's a hoebag.
The only reason he even wanted me to come to Fleshfest was so that he
could try to keep me interested enough so that I'd still have sex
with him. I'm onto him now though. There's no way I'm going to allow
myself to continue to be a part of whatever little harem he has going
on. It's over between us.

    ***

    Somehow, Janice
manages to drag herself to work. I have no idea how she does it.
After spending most of the morning puking, all I would want to do is
crawl into bed and go back to sleep. Not her though. Perhaps she
feels guilty for calling in the night before. Whatever the reason,
she forces down some food, pops some Tylenol, and throws on her
uniform before trudging out the door for the night.
    I sit on the sofa
with my head turned towards the door for a few seconds before I
return my attention to the television. It looks like it's going to be
a nice long night of relaxing. Tomorrow is a holiday, so I don't have
to work. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to have a drink or two, not that I
typically enjoy drinking alone. I feel like I lost out last night by
not having a few cocktails. I was so focused on Lucian the whole time
that I never really allowed myself to relax and have fun except when
we were at the liquid latex booth.
    I screw my face at
the thought of how different Lucian acted when we were at that booth
together. It was the first time I'd ever really seen him relax—not
be such an uptight prick. Well, he was playful when he took my camera
from me the first night we slept together too, but that was
different, somehow. There was no immediate expectation of sex from
his flirting at Fleshfest. Or was there? I did sleep with him in the
limo, after all.
    I draw my hand up to
my forehead. Trying to decode his actions is giving me a headache,
and I don't want to think about him anymore. There's no point. Lucian
Reddick is bad for me. Not only is he infatuated with being a
Dominant, but he also obviously sleeps around. If I reject him, he'll
have me replaced within a week, I'd bet. It's an upsetting thought,
but I know it's for the best. I want a sweet guy who will romance me
and chase after me and who I can trust. Lucian is none of those
things. He has his sweet moments, but they're fleeting, and his sheer
douchebaggery overshadows them tenfold. I doubt he'd know romance if
it hit him in the face. And the most he's chased me so far is from
his dining room to his bedroom. He's pressured me for sex time and
time again, and there's no emotional reward afterward. Only pain.
    He's best forgotten,
at least for the rest of the weekend, and there would be no better
way to do that than to fuel myself with alcohol and immerse myself in
whatever is on television. Not romance though. Not tonight.
    I head to the
kitchen to see what kind of liquor we have. My options are tequila
and rum. The tequila only has about three shots left in the bottle,
but the rum is halfway full. Then I check the refrigerator to see
what kind of mixers we have. I scowl when I realize that we're out of
sweet and sour. Just seeing the bottle of tequila made me crave a
margarita. I'm too lazy to go to the store though and pick up more
sweet and sour. Luckily, we have some pineapple juice. Rum and
pineapple juice is the next best thing.
    I make myself a
drink and curl up on the sofa. There's a Futurama marathon on, so I
decide to watch that. I could use something lighthearted and funny
after all of the drama I've been dealing with.
    I'm about three
episodes in when I hear a knock on the door. My shoulders slump, and
I groan. It's a solicitor, most likely. They tend to circle around
our apartment like buzzards on a carcass during the weekends. I've
been meaning to post a No Soliciting sign on our door,