The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Eighty

Note to self: never buy another dildo again.

I know I've made a grave mistake the second I wake. It's nearly dawn, and the pink and gold of the sun are filtering through the window. This is the longest I've slept in days.

Usually, when I try to close my eyes I can't stop thinking about the guys and how they're feeling, what they want. It's a never-ending circus in my head, and for some reason, no matter what I do, I can't get off the tightrope. Things are better when I'm with Lewis, but when he's gone, all I can think of is what I left behind.

I'm halfway sprawling off the bed, still naked, with the bottle of lube and my newest battery-operated friend at my side. They both make it appear I used up every inch of my sexual energy last night, and I did, but I'm not completely satisfied. Will I ever know satisfaction without them?

I can't ponder the answer for long. As I lift myself back onto the pillow top mattress, the shared mind link flickers. Oh, fuck, they're here...

Had I...? Had I uplinked last night? Did I...?

My memories are sketchy. They cut in and out as I reviewed what happened last night. Empty bottles of tequila and bourbon litter the floor. Had I drunk them?

The bed, a king-sized four-poster solid mahogany affair, faces a flat screen TV hanging on the wall. Beneath the TV is an oversized chest of drawers in the same lovely shade. Its eight drawers are open at varying degrees, displaying an uncharacteristically large amount of clothing.

Did I pack my entire condo?

Leggings, jeans, sweatpants, shorts, t-shirts, button-ups, and a Veronica Leyton original cocktail dress spill out like a volcanic eruption, peppered with two toothbrushes, toothpaste, my empty dildo box, empty lube box, and a host of sparkling diamond jewelry. And shoes... there are at least four pairs of heels, two pairs of slippers and three pairs of flip-flops. My stomach roils and my headaches.

Did I rob someone? Where the hell did this shit come from? I run through my stunted memories a second time.

Spent time with Lewis, stopped at a lingerie shop and headed this way by the main highway. With as late as it was, there's no way I had time to stop and do shopping at a major retailer and I wouldn't have been dumb enough to call a personal shopper, would I? My mind is more scrambled than eggs in a pan.

At least I have plenty of clothing to change into, but I don't have a moment to lose. I have less than five minutes to shower, dress, and get out of this room. They're getting closer.

Stuffing all my bottles into one bag, I thrust the clothes I don't remember purchasing with them and leave them in front of the door. Then, I hit the shower, and wash off the stench of sweat, grime, and the leftover spray paint lingering on my skin. I'm jumping off the balcony when they burst into the room.

As if the door is made from matchsticks, it splinters and explodes when Chris' boot makes contact with the steel. It's a bellow of aggression, sending the door hurtling through the room and over the balcony after me. Luckily, there are smaller balconies three floors down and I catch the banister with my hands, narrowly missing the door as it barrels to the ground.

When it strikes, screams echo and I hurry over the side to hide beneath the metal awning hanging over the hotel's pool. My fingers tinkle and my arms ache from holding my crouched position, but I don't move until I hear the heavy footsteps recede from the balcony's floor. Carefully, I apply pressure to the interior locking mechanism on the glass doors until it warps and the door bends awkwardly.

It's a risk to take the stairs and elevator equally, but I know Chris better than he thinks.

He split them up, sending one of them in each elevator and the last in the stairwell. I'm hoping they haven't completely cleared the penthouse suite I was occupying and headed back downstairs. A soft ding announces the car's arrival and I brace myself to fight as the doors swish open.