Page 22 of Hell On Heels
Once she was clean faced, she headed back into the kitchen to find food. In her nervous excitement to get to the club, she’d taken a wrong turn and missed the nibbles that had been served.
Opening the fridge she sighed, there was nothing inside. She really needed to go grocery shopping. Shutting the door, she opened the freezer and smiled. A frozen pizza it would be. Lottie unwrapped the pizza, placing it on a pizza stone, and waited for the oven to heat up. While she waited, Lottie poured another glass of red wine. She was in for the weekend, why not have a glass, or bottle?
A half hour later with half of a bottle of wine gone and Lottie starving, she opened the oven door and looked inside. The pizza bubbled with a thick layer of cheese and sauce stared at her. One deep dish meat lovers was coming to her rescue. Using her oven mitts, she pulled the pizza stone from the oven, setting it on the stove. Rolling the pizza cutter across it, Lottie’s thoughts went back to Razor fucking the sub atThe Red Door.
Her mouth watered as the thought had her rethinking every touch he laid on the blonde. Every thrust as his cock slammed into another girl’s pussy. Her thumb rubbed over her bottom lip thinking of how his thick, muscular legs were dusted with soft,light-colored hair. The six pack that made up his torso and the piercings that glistened against the dark color of his nipples.
“Damn it. I’ll never forget the way the man fucks.” Grabbing a paper plate she slid two slices onto it. The flimsy plate bent. Juggling the paper plate and the smoking hot pizza, Lottie managed to have it land on the counter. “That’s about right. Even this poor excuse of a food doesn’t want me to sample it.” She slid the pizza back on, then doubled up the cheap paper plates.
* * *
Her favorite movie played on the little TV on the bathroom counter as she tried relaxing in the tub. Biting into a slice of cold pizza, she made a mental note of all the things she needed to do. The first thing on her list was finding a new job where she didn’t have to face her boss. How would it even work if she stayed?
“You’ll treat it like a one-night stand when the guy was still there in the morning,” she told herself.
“So, what, you saw him having sex with a blonde bimbo. It wasn’t that impressive.” Staring at the TV she imagined the female lead discussing Razor’s sexual performance with her.
“Lottie, did you see how he thrusted in and out like a jackhammer?”
“Yes, how could I not see?”
“Did you see how that girl looked like it was the best dick she’d ever had?”
“I did, but isn’t she supposed to perform like that.”
Laughing at her silliness, Lottie shook bubbles from her hand and reached for another slice of pizza. Just as she did so her ass slipped sending her under the bubbles. Shooting up, she coughed and choked on the soapy water as the characters on the TV laughed. Wasn’t that just great. Even the movie characters were laughing at her. She could see the headlines on the evening news;Death by Mr. Bubble.
Lottie wiped her mouth, her cheeks flushed as she glared at the TV screen like it was somehow personally responsible for her misfortune. The characters on the show were still cackling away, oblivious to the chaos unfolding in her bathroom. She shot them the middle finger, as though that would somehow make it all right.
“Great,” she muttered to herself, coughing again for emphasis.
“Just what I needed. A fitting end, huh? Lottie, the girl who met her demise in a bubble-filled slip-n-slide, pizza still clutched in her hand like a sad, greasy flag of defeat.”
Done with the imaginary conversations, bubbles trying to kill her, and cold pizza, Lottie tossed the slice of pizza onto the tray…pulled the plug and shoved up, letting the frothy soap run down her pruned skin.
Stepping out of the tub, she stumbled trying to miss the tray holding the pizza and bottle of wine she decided to finish. Her arms windmilled as she tried staying upright. Taking another step had her falling forward. Throwing out her hands, she tried stopping the fall.
Her hands hit the counter as she went down on her knees. The side of her face hit the edge of the sink causing her to cry out. Lottie dropped down holding her face as tears filled her eyes.
She stayed there for a moment, crouched on the bathroom rug that covered the cold tile floor, face buried in her hands, her breath coming in sharp, shaky bursts. The sting from where her cheek had smacked against the sink was enough to send waves of frustration and embarrassment over her. The bottle of wine rolled across the floor like it was mocking her.
Sitting on the floor, she stayed there until the pain lessened. Reaching up, she grabbed the damn counter and pulled herself from the floor. Her vision was blurry as she looked into the mirror. Her face wasn’t cut, but it was already swelling. When her fingers touched the area, she winced. It was already changing colors. Lottie wrapped a towel around herself and walked to her bed where she dropped and fell back. She’d deal with everything later. Closing her eyes, she just wanted the pain to stop.
Chapter Eleven
Razor pulled up at the clubhouse. It was business as usual as he climbed off his bike. Flicking the cigarette into the parking lot, he blew smoke into the air. It was rare for him to smoke, but lately it was that or drinking, and drinking for him was never a good thing. Stupid decisions were often made after one too many scotches.
He stopped for a brief minute to talk to Tank, one of the prospects. The brother had no idea he was about to be brought up for his full patch in a few weeks. Sticking his hand out he shook the prospect's hand, then pulled him into a hug. “Tank, how’s the family?”
“Everyone’s great,” Tank said, stepping back.
“Looks like a full house tonight.”
“Yeah, the usual poker night. We got things covered out here,” Tank told him, pulling the door open soRazor could go inside.
Stepping inside, everyone was milling around. He spotted Hemlock coming towards him.
“Razor got a minute?” Hemlock asked him.
