The room smells like alcohol mixed with semen and a latex scent. The familiar smell. Too familiar.
When I open my eyes, the morning sun peeks between the window shades, creating a golden sun ray in the dark bedroom. It's a reminder that my night bliss is over, and what's left now is a heavy head from too much drinking. But I'm not complaining. What more do I ask from life? I have money, friends, and sex. A lot of sex. I have nothing to whine about, except for having to meet my dad in his office today.
Lying flat on my tummy, I glance at the diamond-shaped alarm clock on the nightstand, thinking about possible ways to wriggle myself out of this appointment. But well, it's my father I'm talking about, the person from whom I inherit my stubbornness. If I escaped him today, it would just prolong my problems.
My train of thought is distracted by a hand stroking my bare back. It slowly creeps down to my lower back, down to my loin, then it makes a circular movement on my buttocks.
"I need to go soon," I say as a warm breath caresses my neck. "I need to see my old man."
"Can't it wait? I'm getting hard again."
"I wish. Why don't you tell your dick to wait?" As the stroke is getting urgent, I swat his hand and scramble out of bed, earning a groan from Dan. Or is it Bram? No, I think it's Steve.
Standing next to his bed, my eyes roam over the room to find my clothes, hoping that I wasn't coming to this place naked last night. It happened once, and it can happen again, especially when I'm that wasted.
Steve's studio is spacious with a minimalist dark interior style. I'm suspecting he doesn't actually live here since there is no sign of human touch and no stray stuff lying around. But it doesn't matter because we just needed this place to fuck. Plus, I find it easier to spot my scattered clothes on his dark granite floor.
"Are you free tonight?" Steve rolls over. His duvet is now dangerously low, barely covering his groin.
"Maybe," I say, picking up the red panties that are crumpling next to his nightstand and walking to his living room area. I groan as I grab my sequin tank top from the reading chair, thinking of going to my dad's office wearing it since I don't have time to go home and change. "Shit!" I moan when I see my short leather skirt in the entrance hall. "Do you have women's sweaters or jackets lying around in your wardrobe, by any chance?"
"Uh not sure." Steve rubs his face before propping himself up, groaning. "I think I do. Lemme check." He then trudges to his drawers, opens it, and digs into the lowest rack, his bare buttcheeks staring at me. Nice bumps, I must say. I wish I remembered what I did with them last night. "White sweater will do?" his voice croaked as he waves a white hoodie at me.
"Sure. Anything but my stupid top." I take the sweater from his hand before heading to his bathroom. "I need to use your bathroom to wash up. I can't go to his office with this smell."
The sweater is a bit too big for me but who cares? It's better than my cropped top which barely covers my ribs. The hoodie has a college slogan on its front and a name on its back: Jessica. Does he bring college girls here often? Probably. I wonder why the sweater is still lying here. Doesn't she want her sweater back given how personal it is? I just hope I don't bump into this Jessica girl on my way to the office, or worse, bump into her parents.
After a quick wash-up to get rid of the sex and liquor scents on me, I slide into the sweater and my leather skirt. I have no time to wash my hair but I can spray extra perfume on it later. From my reflection in the mirror, a dark-haired girl with a pale face and dull eyes stares back at me. I look like someone who is having drug withdrawal, but with Jessica's hoodie on, at least I look more like a uni student who was awake all night working on an assignment.
