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Chapter Twenty-Five

RAELYN

It’s been a week since the attack at the practice stadium. And I have had one of the guys with me at all times. Even the asshole, Cam, who happens to be with me today.

I pull out a book that I’ve been reading, The Secrets We Keep by Lily Wildhart.

Yeah, I may have a slight obsession with her books.

The name of the game is distractions. My memories are slowly starting to come back to me. They are flooding my head. I know these aren’t dreams anymore. I remember living these moments, knowing people, feeling safe in my home.

Home.

Vegas isn’t my home. But New York is. New York is my fucking home. I know where I came from.

What I am still fuzzy on is how I got to Vegas. I remember walking the streets of New York. I remember the cold, bitter winters, the snow, and holiday decorations. I remember Central Park and hanging out there to soak up the sun.

It’s as if the hit to my head knocked something loose. Someone pressed play on all the movies stored in my head.

I have started to feel more like myself. I am starting to remember who I am, where I came from, what I did in my life before I was with the kidnapper.

Before all the pain.

And I haven’t shared those memories with the guys yet. Honestly, I’m still trying to sort them out. The dreams still don’t make sense, and the images and visions I have in them still have not surfaced as actual memories.

A sigh from the man who wants to see me pushed off a building interrupts my thoughts, and my eyes dart toward him.

“I’m sorry, is my silence annoying you?” I narrow my eyes.

“No, me babysitting an adult who is capable of taking care of herself is,” Cameron sneers.

“Please leave if I am keeping you from your anger management meetings,” I fire back.

“Anger manag— Listen, I am only doing this because the guys are my life. You are an inconvenience. For some reason, Drew has a boner for you. Though, I’m sure once he fucks your whore pussy, he will quickly realize the error of his ways.”

Setting the Kindle down, I slowly stand up and saunter over to where Cam is lying on the other couch. I lean over him, his eyes watching every move I make.

“Aw, is that why you hate me? Because you play for the other team and are secretly in love with Drew? Or because I won’t let your shrimp dick near my pussy, ever?”

Before I can pull away, Cam grabs me and has me flipped onto the couch with him now hovering over me. He lets out a growl as he grabs my hands and places them above my head.

“Let me ask you something, princess.” He grinds his hips into me, and I suddenly realize my error. He leans his head down, his lips grazing my ear. “Does this cock feel like a shrimp dick?”

No. No, it absolutely doesn’t. Fuck.

I shake my head, still in shock at his dick rubbing against my very sensitive core, my brain malfunctioning with each movement.

Why am I letting him do this to me?

A small fear starts to build in me, and my heart starts to race.

He immediately stops. “And just so we’re clear, I don’t fuck guys. And the only reason my dick won’t ever be inside you making you scream my name, is because it doesn’t like used, slut pussy.”

“Hm, and yet you will fuck any little thing screaming your name after your game. Maybe you’re the whore. Man-whore,” I sneer back.

“I can get all the pussy I need. Yours is not one I want or need.”

I let out a laugh. “And yet here you are with me, grinding your cock against me. And let’s not lie. That thing’s as hard as stone. So, I’ll ask, who’s needy?”

With a frustrated groan, Cam pushes off me and stomps away to the game room.

Good. Fuck off, asshole.

I close my eyes for a moment, and my body won’t stop vibrating from his touch. And at the same time, his body on mine made me sick to my stomach.

Why? Why is my body torn on how to react? Why is it even reacting like it wants more of it?

I can’t stand the ass!

Grabbing my Kindle and the phone Asher bought me, I head toward my bedroom. I need to cool off. My interaction with Cam has my body feeling like it’s ready to combust.

Out of anger or sexual tension, I’m not sure.

With my phone in hand, I scroll through the music app Asher put on it. I find one of my favorite bands, In This Moment, and set it to play from its playlist of songs.

The grey tile is cool to the touch as I walk across it, and it’s a hard contrast to the fluffy black bathmats that are strategically placed by the sink and in front of the shower. The white countertop jumps out against the dark cabinets.

There’s beautiful blue irises in a glass vase next to the sink, adding a pop of color. On the other side of the sink are a couple of blue candles that I can tell have never been lit before, sitting on a black tray.

I reach into the large tiled shower and press the buttons on the side to start the water. I turn it up, making sure it’s super hot, because I like my skin to practically melt off. I need to wash away my interaction with Cam.

He confuses me so much. I don’t understand his hatred for me. I mean, I get it, he wants me gone. And as soon as I can leave, I’m out of here.

Slowly, I strip off my clothes and throw them in the hamper inside the walk-in closet right off the bathroom.

I turn to look at myself in the mirror, and I don’t know what I expect to see.

There are dark circles under my eyes, my hair is flat and dull.

I look tired. And honestly, I am. My body is exhausted, like remembering all these things has just worn me out.

The shower starts to steam up the bathroom, and I let out a long breath and step inside. The minute the hot water hits my back, I instantly relax. The pulsing of the water makes the tension in my shoulders fade away, the heat calming my mind.

I reach over to the little alcove in the wall and pull out the shampoo that Drew got me. As I lather it on, the floral scent hits my nose. I let out a hum as I continue to massage my scalp. When I finish, I tilt my head back, letting the water cascade over me, rinsing away the suds.

My mind starts to turn as the water pours over me. There’s an odd comfort I find here. Maybe it’s the nice house, or it could be the guys. Well, minus the asshole who is Cam.

Logically, I should want to go home. I shouldn’t want to be locked away here. Okay, I’m not technically locked away here. And last time I went on my own, I was attacked. Just to fucking go to the bathroom.

Maybe I have Stockholm Syndrome. Is that possible?

No. Because I’m sure if I asked to go back home, Drew would help me get there.

But something is keeping me from wanting to jump onto a plane and head back there.

And I don’t know what that is.

Thoughts of the interaction with Cam just a few minutes ago start to flood my mind, and I can feel the pulsing between my legs. My hands slowly move down from my neck and graze over my nipple, causing a small moan to escape my lips.

Why does that asshole have me so needy?

My fingers slowly slide down between my breasts, softly leaving a trail of goosebumps even under the hot water. As my fingers descend, they follow the water flowing off me, down my stomach, slowing slightly as I pass my belly button.

I bite my lip as my fingers dip lower and slide through my pussy, eliciting a groan from me. My clit pulsates as I circle the tip of my finger around it, teasing it. My entire body is already on edge from the teasing that Cam did to me on the couch.

I work my finger through my slit and push it slowly inside me, tightening around my finger as I slide it in and out.

Even in the shower, I can feel how wet I am as I drip around my hand.

My breaths come out fast as I take my thumb and rub my clit as I finger fuck myself closer to a much-needed orgasm.

I turn around to face the wall to brace myself as I continue to pump my finger in and out of my drenched pussy. My eyes spot the detachable shower head, and a shiver runs down my spine in excitement.

Taking it off the mount, I hit the button, and the stream starts to flow through the head. Warm water shoots through the openings, and I push another button to change the pressure and spray type. I find the massage spray, and a thrill shoots through me.

Reaching down, I apply the spray of the water along the slit of my pussy until it hits my clit. My eyes widen at the pressure and the euphoric feeling coursing through me. I reach down and spread my lips apart, angling the spray to directly hit my sweet spot.

The pulsing water against my clit causes me to groan, my body vibrating from the intense pleasure. Trying to chase that finale, that crescendo of my orgasm.

It’s so close, the release I need. I can feel it start to crest as my muscles tighten. My breaths come out fast, moans slipping through between them. I don’t even care if anyone can hear me. This feels so good, and I can’t stop.

I need to come.

While lost in my race to the finish, the music switches to the next song in the list, and Sex Metal Barbie comes on over the phone.

My body freezes, and my chest tightens. I drop the shower head, and it falls against the shower wall. Panic surges through me. This used to be one of my favorite songs by In This Moment. And then my mind is assaulted with a memory.

“Chanel! You are on stage in ten!” Jeff’s voice rings out behind me.

I turn and look at him. “Got it. Busy out there yet?”

“Packed. So give them a good show. We have a group in here, and they look like they have a lot of money to burn. They are to the left of the stage. Give them your best shot.” Jeff pushes his glasses back up his nose. He is the owner and manager of Ruby’s, a strip club here in New York.

He’s not a bad guy, but he’s a strip club owner.

He looks grungy, like he always needs a shower.

He always smells like the club, cigarettes, and cheap perfume.

His clothes are disheveled, like he rolled off a shitty couch and came straight to work.

And I’m sure if he had hair, it would be greasy and gross.