Nope. Close that.
What the hell kind of deranged lunatic is my sister anyway? This is what she was doing while I was getting chemo? Jesus. I’ve only been at it five minutes and I feel like my eyes, and my brain, need to be permanently bleached.
Okay. I’m going to give this one more shot. If it doesn’t work, I’m giving up. I’ll go find a convent or a monastery or something where I never have to worry about giving hand jobs or blow jobs, or any other kind of jobs, ever again. I hear Tibet is nice this time of year. I could totally be a Buddhist. I look great in orange. Plus, I’ve already done the shaved head thing a bunch of times.
Taking a deep breath, I brace myself and click on another site, this one with the dubious web address of howmanylicksdoesittake.com. I’m not going to lie. I’m a little concerned, but it seems like the best option—holy shit. Is that a Doberman?
I’m done. I’m done. I’m so fucking done.
I start to close it, but there’s a hard knock at my door and it startles me so much that I end up clicking on a video near the top right side of the screen. Obscene noises fill my hotel room.
I try to click it off, but a little window pops up asking if I’m sure I want to leave. Yes. Yes, God, yes. I’m sure. But when I click the yes, it just takes me back to the video.
No! Goddamnit. I can practically feel the viruses leaping through my firewall by the second—and only half of them are electronic. Is it possible to get STDs from a porn site?
The knock sounds again, a little louder and more impatient this time.
“Coming. I’m coming!” I shout, even as the woman on screen starts giving a pretty good impression of doing that very same thing.
Oh my God.
I am so going to kill Anna the next time I see her.
I try once more to close the window, but that same stupid box pops up again. And again, it refuses to let me actually shut anything.
“Tansy?” Ash’s voice comes through the door. “Are you okay?”
“Fine! I’m fine!” Fuck it. I click pause—of course the stupid thing lets me do that—and then I bury the tablet under a pillow on the bed.
I’m so freaked out by everything I’ve just seen, and by the fact that my sister is obviously some kind of sex fiend, that I forget to be nervous about the fact that Ash is on the other side of my door. At least until I open it and find myself looking straight up into his beautiful, concerned face.
“Are you all right?” he asks, reaching a hand out and pressing it to my forehead. “You sounded funny. And you look a little flushed. Are you sick?”
“No, I’m good. I was just … exercising.” Exercising? Seriously, Tansy? Is that the best you can come up with?
Ash doesn’t seem like he’s buying it, either, at least judging by the way he’s looking at me. “In your jeans?”
“Uh, no. Of course not. I forgot my yoga pants so I was working out in my underwear, but then you knocked and I had to put my jeans back on.”
“Oh, right.” His eyes darken a little and he shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear it. Not that I blame him. I did just mention my underwear to him. He probably thinks I want a repeat of last night. Which, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind. Well, except for the last part. And the part where my guy of choice is probably, at this very moment, trying to figure out how to get the hell away from the crazy sex fiend who doesn’t know how to take “not interested” for an answer. It’s a good thing he’s never met Anna. He’d probably run screaming into the night. Then again, she probably knows how to give one hell of a blow job.
Oh, God. Where is a bottle of bleach when you need it? I am never going to forgive my sister for this. Never.
“Tansy? Are you sure you’re all right?” Ash puts a hand on my arm, closes the door behind him and guides me toward the bed. “Why don’t you sit down for a couple minutes? You look a little …”
Bewildered? Freaked out? Insane? Is this a multiple choice test, because right now, I swear I’d pick all of the above.
“Hot. You look really, really hot.”
Somehow, I don’t think he means that in the good way.
I sit, because I can’t do anything else, not with Ash standing over me like that. And because I really, really need him to stop touching me. My mind knows he’s not interested, but all my body remembers is the pleasure he gave me last night and it is very interested. Sparks are tearing through me, originating at all the places he’s just touched and spreading outward from there.
Except, as I settle onto the bed, my hand brushes against my pillow. As it does, I must jostle the tablet and unpause it because the next thing I know a series of very loud, very unmistakable sounds is filling up my hotel room.
Ash’s eyes go wide as he registers what the sounds are, and then a wicked grin creeps across his face. “Exercising, huh?”
Oh, God.