Indecent Cravings Page 4

  “Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.”

  “No prob.”

  I watch her hips sway as she walks back to the bedroom. Definitely round and female ass, but undeniably skinny male legs with big feet. So different. So awesome.

  I pull the sheet up, take off my clothes, and close my eyes.

  Damn, what’s wrong with me?

  Chapter 8

  The sun blasting through the thin cheap blinds wakes me up, winning the battle against the air conditioning. I bet the sun wins every battle down here.

  Well, okay. Wake up is a stretch. Emerge slightly from a coma-like state is a more accurate phrase.

  Ow, ow, ow . . . put head back down, Abigail. Head back down!

  Shit, it feels like there’s a construction crew working in my head.

  I close my eyes again.

  “Are you all right?” says Karissa.

  I open one eye and see her sitting at the round table in the dining spot. “I think so.”

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  She looks fantastic in a loose print tank top over a black bra and jean cutoff shorts, legs crossed, sipping coffee, texting on her phone. Her light mocha skin glistens.

  I sit up. Ow, ow, ow. My head was in a twisted position for a long time. Not to mention I’m a little hungover. Maybe a lot hungover.

  “You okay, sister?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Holy crap, really?”

  “You sure can sleep, girl.”

  I put my hand up to my head. “Fuuuuuuuck. Karissa, I’m so sorry. I fucked last night up royally. In the restaurant. Here. Everything. I’m an idiot. I’m so so sorry.”

  “Will you please shut the fuck up? It was fun. I had a blast. Jax had a blast. But look, I got to run out and get some things. I need to be in work by seven tonight. When I come back, we should go clothes and job hunting for you.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “There’s cereal, milk, and coffee. Help yourself. I don’t have much else, which is why I’m running to the market for some basics.”

  “Okay. Um, I have no cash. Just my debit card. If you want to wait, I’ll go with you and pay for it.”

  “No, thanks to your buddy Lukas Thorn, I still have the two hundred I was going to spend last night. We good.” She gets up, picks up her purse, and walks to the door. “Oh, and you might want to check your phone. It’s been buzzing itself silly.”

  My heart kicks, sending a stab of pain to my throbbing head. “Shit. My mom. I didn’t call her. Fuck.”

  “Good luck with that. I’ll be back.”

  “Okay.”

  I get up and walk to the table, allowing the sheet to fall off me. The door re-opens and Karissa pokes her head back in, looking me up and down in my near-nakedness.

  “Mmm-mmm,” she says, smiles, throws her shades on, and closes the door again.

  I laugh out loud.

  God, this is silly. So far removed from the life I know. Is this even really happening?

  Oh shit. There are about twenty-five messages from my mom. Shit fuck shit.

  I go get another glass of water, down it, and pour another. I bring the glass to the table, sit down, take a deep breath and hit Send on Mom.

  “Abigail! Where are you?” says Concord’s queen of decency and bone china.

  “Hi, Ma. I’m okay. Everything is fine.”

  “You’re not at your apartment.”

  “I know. I’m . . . uh . . . on vacation.”

  “Vacation? What vacation?”

  Breathe, Abigail. Just say it. “Ma, I’m in Miami.”

  Here it comes. “Miami! Miami, Florida?”

  No, Miami, East Bumfuck. “Yeah, Florida. I got on a plane. I’m visiting my friend, Karissa. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. She invited me, I said yes, I got on a plane.”

  “Now I have to call Wellesley and have the campus police stop looking for you.”

  “Oh shit, Ma! The police? What? Why?”

  “There’s an alert out. You’re a missing girl.”

  “Missing? I’ve been gone less than twenty-four hours! And I’m twenty-one years old! How did you even know I was gone?”

  “You wouldn’t answer your phone so I sent Trevor to your apartment to check on you. We’ve all been so worried. Why do you do this to us time and again? You get back home right now! This is no time for a vacation! We need your help for the picnic.”

  The Trowbridge family picnic at our summer house in Hyannis is my mother’s crowning glory. Tents. Lobster. Marble-mouths. Pretentious puffery.

  “Yeah, about that, Ma. I’m not going to make it this year. I’m going to spend some time down here. What with everything that happened with Zander, I really need a break.”

  There is a long silence on the other end of the line. I place a hand up to my throbbing head.

  “Young lady, do I have to send your father down there to retrieve you?”

  Ha, that would be amusing. “No, Ma. Look, I earned some money at my job and I thought I’d splurge and take a trip.”

  “You will do no such thing! I understand you feel bad about your . . . friend . . . Zander. But you are a Trowbridge, Abigail. A Trowbridge doesn’t shirk her responsibilities to her family and just take off.”

  I have so much to say, boiling up from down within me, but I force it down.

  “Sorry, Ma,” is all I can get out.

  “You and I and your father are going to have a severe sit down when you get back. What hotel are you staying at? I’ll have Trevor book a flight and send a car to pick you up.”

  “I’m not at a hotel, Ma. I’m with my friend Karissa.”

  “You’re staying with a total stranger?”

  “She’s not a stranger, Ma! She’s my friend.”

  “Is she decent? You can’t be seen with anyone who isn’t decent.”

  Oh, she’s decent all right. “Yes, Ma.”

  “Well, you’re getting on that plane this afternoon. I’m going to have Trevor arrange it and call you with the details.”

  I take a deep breath and grit my teeth. “No . . . Ma.”

  “What did you say?” I’m hyperventilating a little. I swallow some water. “Are you still there, Abigail?”

  “Yes, Ma. I said . . . no, I’m staying here for a while and that’s that. With my friend Karissa. I won’t be at the picnic this year. I’m sorry. I need this.”

  “You’re going to actually let me handle the picnic all on my own? It’s so much work!”

  “Ma, Addison and Ashley will do fine. I’ll only be in their way.”

  Another deafening silence. “I’m going to speak to your father about having your debit card shut off.”

  “I don’t have the family card with me, Ma. I have my own money.”

  “Oh please, Abigail. You don’t have any money.”

  “I do too! I saved up from my job. Look at the account. I haven’t used it. I have my own money.”

  “The money you make in that restaurant job, which is beneath you anyway, isn’t real money. You can’t even afford to stay in a proper hotel. What’s your address? Trevor will send a car to pick you up, and that’s that.”

  “No, Ma. Trevor isn’t going to send anything. I’m staying.”

  This time the silence is bloodcurdling.

  “Abigail, you disappoint me greatly.”

  “Well, Ma, you’ve disappointed me too.”

  “Me? How can you say that, Abigail? I’ve done nothing but provide you with a proper upbringing so you can have a good life doing all the right things. I’ve toiled and slaved to get you and your sisters everything. And this is the thanks I get?”

  I grit my teeth and make a fist. “I know about what you did to Zander!”

  “Dear, I’m sorry about your little friend. But what we did had to be done. He was behaving improperly. We all feel bad about how it ended, but it’s not our fault.”

  “Of course. Nothing is ever your fau
lt. It’s not like maybe what you did influenced his decision. Did that thought ever occur to you?”

  “Dear, I’m not discussing this matter on the phone. I expect you at the picnic, Abigail. Don’t make me send your father and Trevor down there. They’ll find you.”

  Not likely. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re being terribly unreasonable, Abigail. Don’t test me. I must go now. I have a meeting with the caterers at one. We will discuss this later. I want you to take a hard look in the mirror at yourself and what you’re doing.”

  “You too, Ma,” I say.

  “Goodbye, dear.”

  I hit End.

  Shit, now I’m all fired up. I swear if Jaxon and Karissa walked back in the door right now, I’d grab both and make myself the creamy filling to their sandwich.

  The very thought sends a jolt to my pussy. No, not now. Down, girl.

  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr! I pound the table.

  I’m so going to fuck the shit out of this town!

  How do you like them apples, Ma?

  I’m about to get up and find some cereal when it hits me.

  Lukas Thorn.

  I have his name!

  I take my phone, Google him, and find nothing.

  Then I try Facebook. A jolt of electricity fires through my crotch when I see his profile pic.

  Yep, that’s him.

  Lots of friends. Lots of hot female friends. Lots of hot female friends throwing lots of messages and “Likes” his way.

  Hm.

  Bitch whore tramps.

  No relationship status. No place of work. But there’s a link to a book with his name on it.

  Oh my God, he’s an author!

  I’m re-directed to Amazon. My jaw drops open when I read the title of his book:

  The Regimen: A Suggested Routine for the Proper Training of Submissive Women by Lukas Thorn.

  I gasp.

  Then I one-click it and begin reading.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  * * *

  Watch for Indecent Cravings: Part Two

  releasing on

  July 30, 2015

  * * *

  Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to write an honest review at the site from which you downloaded this book.

  YOUR Turn

  What should happen next?

  Is Abigail/Jayd truly ready to learn submission?

  Who really is Lukas Thorn?

  Will Abigail’s past catch up with her?

  Who is Zander and what happened to him?

  Where did the money on the debit card come from?

  Who is the old lady with the empty cigarette holder in the restaurant?

  YOU tell me.

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  skcrossbooks@gmail.com

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  Also by S.K. Cross:

  The Cage Sessions

  Controlled by His Voice

  Fifty Days

  Capitol Submission

  Mastered by His Touch

  The Stark Affair