Flesh: Part Fifteen (The Flesh Series Book 15) (3 page)

“
Uh
oh, don't tell me you're tired already,” I say.

“
Nope.
Just woke up from a nap. All rested for the night to come,” she
replies. “You should ditch queer eye and come with me. I'm sure
they've got someone available.”

“
Queer
eye?” Derrick huffs, though he's obviously not too offended by
the comment.

“
Nah.
Things are going well with Lucian and me.” I shake my head. “I
wouldn't want to screw that up.”

“
Suit
yourself.” She shrugs.

“
So,
are we going to get to see the outfit?” Derrick gestures to her
trench coat. “I'm sure you've got something really skanky on
underneath that.”

“
Your
gay little eyes couldn't handle it.” She hugs herself, rocking
back and forth while pouting.

“
I'll
vomit after you leave.” He makes grabby hands at the coat.

“
Fine.”
She takes a step away and turns so that her back is facing us. “I'm
meeting with a new Dom tonight, so I wanted to wear something
impressive.”

When she slips off
the trench coat, I give her back a confused look. The outfit she's
wearing isn't fetish related at all. It's not even black. Sheer white
stockings cover her legs and are attached to matching garters. As she
turns around, I realize that it's just regular lingerie. A white silk
bra with matching panties. Everything is lacy and see-through. It's
hard for me to keep looking at her because I feel like I'm seeing all
of her.

“
Glad
I had sex yesterday,” Derrick comments, “because I
definitely won't be getting it up tonight.”

“
Oh
shut it,” Janice barks at him. “You wanted to see.
Besides, you're not that damn gay or you never would have wanted to
date Amy.”

“
Amy
is classy.” He casts a sideways glance in my direction.

“
This
is classy too.” She pulls a lacy, white jacket over her
shoulders. I never would have known it was there had she not grabbed
the sides of it from under her trench coat. To be honest, the
ensemble is gorgeous, just not something I'd ever expect her to wear
to Flesh.

“
So
what made you go with this?” I gesture to the outfit.

“
Well.”
She closes up her trench coat, her eyes fixed on Derrick as if she's
actually concerned that she has offended him with her near nudity.
“As I said, I wanted to do a rape scene, so I figured it would
be better if I looked pure.”

“
You
look purely slutty.” Derrick smirks.

“
Shut.
It.” She pretends to zip her lips.

“
I
think you look gorgeous,” I tell her. It's true. If I wore
something like that, I'd just look frumpy. White isn't really my
color.

“
Thank
you, Amy.” She bows her head to me respectfully, then goes to
the bar to pick up her purse. “Well, I'm outski. You
faggalottes have a good night.”

“
Faggalottes?”
Derrick raises an eyebrow.

“
My
word. I copyright it.” She points to the ceiling as she walks
toward the door.

“
Whatever.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

All I can do is
giggle.

After Janice leaves,
I snuggle back against Derrick and we resume watching the movie. It's
hard for me to concentrate when I'm busy wondering what Lucian is up
to.

Apparently, Derrick
is having issues too, because he randomly says, “I don't
understand what she gets out of that.”

“
I
do, to a degree.” I bite my bottom lip, thinking about the
scene I did with Lucian in his dungeon. Not the painful one that was
supposed to mimic Flesh, but the one that he tailored for me. He's
good at that, figuring out what people want and accommodating them.
That's probably why he's done so well at Flesh.

“
I
mean, who wants to be beaten during sex?” He shifts his weight,
getting comfortable.

“
It's
not all about that. It's not supposed to be about that at all,
really.” I lean into him a bit more.

“
Then
what is it supposed to be about?”

“
Pleasure.”

“
There's
nothing pleasurable about being beaten.”

“
People
derive pleasure from different things. It's like that saying that one
man's trash is another's treasure. But there's a whole list of kinks
beyond flogging and spanking and the painful stuff. You can get
pleasure from BDSM without ever being struck.” My mind
instantly drifts back to the forced orgasm tower.

I can't help but
wonder what other tricks Lucian has up his sleeve. I'd like to find
out someday. Perhaps if I tell him that, it will make him realize
that I don't have to be his submissive for him to do kink play with
me. Of course, he should know that already after everything we've
done together.

“
Well,
I don't get it, and I suppose I never will,” he huffs.

“
To
each his own.” I smirk.

We remain silent
until the credits start to roll. Then Derrick changes out the Blu-ray
Disc and returns to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder again and
pulling me close.

“
This
is nice,” I sigh contently.

“
This
is nice,” he replies, sounding relaxed. “You know, it
could have always been like this.”

“
What
do you mean?” I look up at him.

He turns to me and
brings his hand up to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. The
way he's looking at me sends tendrils of dread clawing at my insides.
I know this look. It's the same look he got when he first tried to
seduce me.

“
I
still like you, Amy, and I always will.”

Gingerly, I grab his
hand and set it back down in his lap. “I'm with Lucian now,
Derrick.”

He leans back
against the sofa to face the television. “I know, and I've made
peace with that. I just wanted you to know that I wasn't lying about
what I said. I try to cover up my feelings, but it doesn't work very
well. Still, I respect the fact that you're not interested in me. And
I know why you chose him.”

The air in the room
suddenly grows thick, but it's more awkward than choking. I really
don't want to talk about this, even though I know he's sincere. He's
not hitting on me this time. Not really.

“
I
don't ever want to lose you as a friend, Derrick,” I say
quietly.

“
You
won't. I know where we stand. And besides, I'm never going to have
washboard abs like Wonder Boy. Apparently, that's what it takes to
impress you.” He pokes my side teasingly.

“
Wonder
Boy? Really?” I shake my head.

“
I'm
happy for you, Amy. I really am. If he could just stop making you
cry, everything would be perfect.” His expression is slightly
disapproving, but I know he won't push the subject any further.

CHAPTER THREE

Derrick and I are at
the end of movie number three when the door slowly opens and Janice
walks in. When we turn to glance at her over the back of the sofa,
she seems like a deer caught in the headlights. Or more like a
raccoon. The mascara she was wearing earlier has stained her cheeks.
My chest instantly tightens at the realization that she's been
crying. Those tears are fresh too.

“
Slutzilla
returns!” Derrick says dramatically.

“
Derrick,”
I chastise him under my breath before turning back to Janice. “Are
you okay?”

“
Yeah.”
She hugs herself, taking long strides towards her room.

The fact that she
didn't stop to talk to us tells me that something is really wrong.

“
Looks
like she got what she wanted.” Derrick smirks sarcastically.

“
That's
not funny. I should go check on her.” I stare at the television
with worry plastered across my face.

She's my best
friend. Whatever happened, I'm sure she needs to talk about it. She
probably just kept walking because Derrick was here and she didn't
want to disclose the gritty details to him.

“
I'll
be right back.” I pat Derrick on the knee before standing to go
to Janice's room.

When I get there,
the door is cracked open. I peek inside, my hand poised to knock. It
takes everything in me not to gasp. Her trench coat is off, and there
are bloody marks all over her back. To make things worse, she's
sobbing quietly.

Not willing to
hesitate for a second longer, I push the door open and go inside,
closing it behind me so that Derrick can't hear whatever it is she
has to tell me. When she turns, the front of her is no better than
the back. There are cuts all over her body and tiny little dots of
dried blood. Purposeful marks. Someone has taken razors, needles, and
God knows what else to her body.

The look in her eyes
is completely defeated. I step forward to embrace her, but she pulls
away as if I'm the one who has injured her. It hurts seeing her like
this. I don't really know what to do.

“
Did
you not have a safety word?” I ask.

“
I
did,” she coughs out.

“
Then
why didn't you use it? This is horrible.” I gesture to her
body.

“
I
didn't want to seem like a pussy.” She grins sadly, drawing her
hand up to her face to wipe her tears roughly with her palm.

“
Oh,
Janice.” I push her trench coat aside to sit on her bed. “You
should have used your safety word.”

She walks to her
dresser, staring into her mirror with her back to me. “That's
not even why I'm crying.”

“
Then
why?” I curl my fingers around the side of her bed, trying to
straighten my back. All of that slouching on the sofa with Derrick
has put a crick in it.

She turns but
doesn't look at me, sucking up the tears that were falling. “I
don't want to talk about it right now. Not tonight.”

“
Is
it because Derrick's here?” I wrinkle my nose. “I don't
think he can hear us.”

“
No.
And yes. I don't know.” She shakes her head. “Could you
just give me some time alone? I want to take a shower and collect my
thoughts.”

“
Sure.”
I stand, walking over to place my hand on her shoulder. “I'm
here for you whenever you need me, alright?”

“
Tch,”
she grunts.

My jaw clenches as I
leave her room. Part of me is upset about the way that she's acting.
Even though she looks so broken, she's being cold towards me. This
isn't normal at all. Still, I can't force words out of her, so all I
can do is wait.

I return to the
living room and sit down next to Derrick, sighing deeply. He turns to
me, his previous cocky expression completely gone. Now, he looks just
as worried as I was.

“
Is
everything alright?” he asks.

“
I
don't know. I don't think so.” I wrap my arms around myself.

“
What
happened?”

“
She
won't tell me.” I lean against him, trying to hide the concern
etched on my face.

“
Why
not? Aren't the two of you best friends?” He makes it sound
like it's preposterous that she won't talk to me.

“
I
don't know. All I know is that she's not good.” I glance back
towards Janice's room to make sure she can't hear me before I whisper
to him, “She's covered in marks. Not bruises. Cuts. Dozens of
them. Maybe even hundreds. I didn't want to gawk for too long.”