The Betrayal - Sex Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women) by Flemming E.M

Author:Flemming, E.M. [Flemming, E.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-17T23:00:00+00:00

6

I could feel the music vibrating through me. It was almost as if it was a part of me. Every beat of the bass thumped through every fiber in my body. I cocked my head back. The air was cool and there was a light breeze as we exited the club. I could still feel the music pulsating through me as I balanced myself on my heels, strutting away from the gothic megaplex. We had latched back onto Blake, but this time it was with an intensity. I could see Hallie feeling it too, the pills had kicked in, and they were strong. The combination of the booze and the pill was invigorating. All of my senses had come to life. I could see, feel, and hear things viscerally.

“Did you guys have fun in there?” Blake asked.

“Oh my God, yes,” Hallie said. She swigged water from a bottle and passed it over to Blake then to me. I could see her grinding her teeth while running her fingers through her hair. I could see the pleasure lighting up in her eyes as she stroked her hand through her hair.

“So where are we going?” I asked. Blake said he wanted to take the party elsewhere. We were having such a good time, but we didn’t care. I looked at Blake as I grasped his arm tighter in mine, our elbows locking. He was gorgeous. The wind shifted through his hair as it bounced up and down suspended over his chiseled face.

“To a wicked party,” he said.

Wicked?

If he’s calling it wicked, it must be good. “Where is it?” I asked.

“Not too far from here,” he said.

“These heels are killing me,” Hallie said. So were mine.

“Oh, we’re not walking,” Blake said.

“Great, let’s catch a cab,” I said. My vision as starting to blur and time felt like it was moving fast then slow, and then back to fast again. I was literally tripping from the pill.

“No need for that,” Blake cooed, with another shit-eating grin on his face.

“What do you…” Before I could even finish asking that question, a dark matt black Rolls Royce Ghost pulled up. The driver jumped out of the car right in front of us, walked over to the back door, and pulled it open.

“Thanks, Charles,” Blake said.

“You’re welcome,” said the gray-haired man, dressed in a fine dark driving suit. He had an English accent.

Charles? Who the hell is this guy?

I looked at Hallie’s face, which lit up. I guess we were in for some night, more so than we could have ever even imagined. A Rolls Royce? Who has a Rolls Royce with a driver in New York City? Even though there were so many questions, we jumped in the car without hesitation.

“Fancy, fancy,” said Hallie as we glided into the luxurious ride. The interior was decadent. I could feel the quality of the leather beneath me. The black-colored stitching was impeccable. I was noticing all sorts of things. I ran my hands along the seats to feel the leather, and the feeling was incredible.

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