Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
She blushed and busied herself pulling plastic covered plates from the fridge and handing them to me. “Can you set these on the coffee table? The ladies from the church are on their way over for tea.”
I did what she asked and was about to go find Dre when Mirna handed me a clear syringe. “Do me a favor, Samuel, and give Andrea her vitamin shot for me? I need to go freshen up.”
“She can’t do it herself? Insert joke about her already knowing how to use a needle?”
She frowned. “That’s precisely why she SHOULDN’T be handling one.”
“Okay, you’re the boss, Mirna. One shot coming right up.” I had an idea. “Where do I give her this?”
“Any muscle, dear. It’s a bigger gauge then the one I’ve been using, so anything fleshy will work,” Mirna answered, flitting about the kitchen with a knowing smile on her face. She wiped her hands on a towel and tossed it into the sink. She patted my cheek as she passed me and went into her room.
I didn’t know what Mirna was up to, but I didn’t have time to think about that or the now overflowing file weighing me down, in more ways than one.
I held up the needle and smiled. I had a motherfucking job to do. I pushed open Dre’s door, without knocking. “Paging Dr. Clearwater.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DRE
“Where’s Mirna? Why isn’t she giving this to me?” I asked. I’d been lying on my stomach on the bed, flipping through the brochure for the assisted living facility Mirna was on the waiting list for, when Preppy barged in. It looked like a nice place but it wasn’t somewhere I thought she belonged.
Not yet, anyway.
“She’s getting ready for some ladies from church to come over, so she asked me to do it. Now, come on. Time to strip. You need some music? Make sure you start slow. Teasing is key,” he rambled.
“I don’t have to be naked to get a shot,” I argued.
“Well aren’t you just a fun-sucker.” Preppy held up the needle, smiling confidently. “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve seen like three episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, so I’m practically a licensed doctor. Now, be a good girl and bend over, show Dr. Preppy that ass.”
“Mirna gives it to me in my arm.”
“This is a new one. Different needle gauge or some shit,” Preppy answered.
Reluctantly, I did what I was told, but only because I wasn’t feeling all that well and I knew the shot would make me feel better, regardless of where it was shot into.
I bent over the bed and hiked up my dress, dramatically. “You’re a horrible junkie and an even worse stripper,” Preppy commented. I felt his heat as he approached the bed. My lower spine tingled as his legs brushed up against mine. I held my breath and started counting in my head, when the sudden need to push back against him surged through me. My nipples tightened, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face because I was sure I was flushed. “Why does it have to be administered this way again?” I managed to choke out.
Preppy chuckled. “It doesn’t.”
Before I could push off the bed, he pulled the cotton of my panties over into my crack and plunged the needle deep into my skin. It burned, but only for a second. When he pulled it back out I went to get up, but he pushed me back down onto the mattress. “Got to make sure it goes into the muscle,” he said, his voice a deep rasp as he expertly massaged the injection site with his fingers in a circular motion that had me moaning inwardly, and even more mad at him all at the same time.
My breath caught in my throat when his hand started roaming over my ass cheek, slowly tracing circles on my skin, nowhere near the injection site, heading further and further toward the place between my legs that was suddenly tingling with awareness. “I love those fucking heels,” he said, his voice lower than I’d heard it before. Raspy.
Fucking heels. That could be taken so many different ways, but my mind couldn’t process any of them because his fingertips grazed the trim of my panties, just as Mirna walked in the room. I jumped up, covering myself again with the skirt of my dress. Where I was frantic and looked guilty, although I didn’t know what I felt guilty about, technically nothing happened, Preppy smiled and plopped down on the bed, bouncing on the mattress like a little kid.
“It’s not what it looks…” I started, but stopped when I noticed there was something different about Mirna, about the way she kept glancing from me to Preppy with her eyebrows drawn tightly together. The doorbell rang. “Samuel, when did you get here?” she asked. “And who’s your friend?”