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TRACK 32 - PART 3

TJ appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, standing next to Gwen. She didn't utter a word, just stood silently and stared. Shit. I was not looking forward to whatever this was about to be. I downed the rest of the contents from the plastic cup. TJ met my glance and nodded her head to the side, motioning for me to follow her. I excused myself and went to her side, wondering what could possibly be in store for me. She took my uninjured hand and stayed quiet as we walked down the narrow hallway.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

She was probably waiting until we were behind closed doors to yell at me. I really fucked up. And as the walls swayed back and forth, I began to think I was also fucked up. The worst way to enter a fight.

I looked around at the new space I was in. TJ closed the door and made her way towards me. She took my damaged hand in hers and lifted it to be eye level for her viewing. She placed a kiss on one of my dry, bloodied knuckles. Her action took me by surprise.

"Are you mad?"

"At what?" Her tongue ran across one of the scrapes.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "What I did out there."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because you ran off." And you looked at me like I was a mad man.

Lowering my hand, she placed it in between her legs. "Some blood ended up on my dress and Gwen wanted to get it out before it stained," she said, sliding my hand further up. "Would I be like this if I were mad at you?"

As my hand met what it was being guided towards, I instantly understood. She was turned on - very turned on. TJ sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, moaning softly as my finger slid back and forth. Her eyes flashed to mine and I realized something else in the look she gave me. Unfortunately, nothing I had done made her pupils dilate like that. She was high - off what I couldn't be sure. But it wasn't my anger or beating the shit out of her low-life ex-boyfriend that caused that. It was some type of drug. I craved to feel whatever it was she had taken.

"Mmm, more. Don't be a tease," the sound of her voice echoed in my head. "I've never seen you get so angry," she mumbled against my neck. "He must have said something really bad, hm?"

I responded with a pathetic hum, not wanting to answer with words. Her teeth grazed across my pulse before she sunk them into the skin of my neck. The pain was a welcomed distraction away from her question.

Catching sight of my reflection, I noticed the white tiled wall behind me. Something was building near the far top corner, begging to burst through. A single thick stream of red paint fell from the ceiling and ran down the wall, coating each tile it passed. I held my breath as another line of red fell.

TJ pulled her head back and pressed a hand to my cheek. "Everything okay?"

I stole a quick glance over my shoulder and a quiet shudder left my lips as I noticed the perfectly pristine white tiled wall behind me. "I'm fine."

"You can't look at yourself yet?" She asked it like a question, yet it sounded like she was stating a fact. Pushing herself off the counter, she turned the two of us so I faced towards the door. Her hands were on my shoulders, kneading her fingers into my skin. "You're so stressed. I think I know how to make you feel better."

"You do?"

She nodded. Her lips went to my ear and she whispered the most sinful words I ever had the pleasure of hearing.

"Baby," I said, holding back a groan as her words echoed in my head. "You can't say shit like that and expect me not to act on it."

She ran her tongue slowly across her bottom lip. "But I want you to," she said, pressing her back into the door. "I want you to use me," she pulled my body closer to hers, "Wouldn't doing those things to me make you feel better?"