Page 13 of Jaded
Normally I took a shower before I went to bed, but I wanted to keep the scent of Lauren with me for just a little while longer, so I just threw on an old tee shirt, ate an obscene amount of ice cream, and went to bed.
When I woke again the sun was shining through my bedroom window. A quick look at my phone showed it was just after ten. I’d been a bartender for years and was used to sleeping late, but now that I was awake, I figured that I might as well get up and take a shower.
I padded into the kitchen to start the coffee maker and was on my way back to the bathroom when someone rang the doorbell. Assuming it was my neighbor, I opened it without looking.
To my shock, Lauren stood on my doorstep, looking significantly less put together than she had last night.
She was wearing faded jeans, a light blue tank top with the Surrender logo on the front, and a short black leather jacket. The hair that was carefully styled into windswept waves last night was pulled back into a stubby ponytail, and her face was completely devoid of make-up.
She looked beautiful.
“Lauren! How did...what are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice soft. “Please?”
“Sure.”
What was she doing here? I hadn’t had coffee yet, and there was no way I could deal with a complicated conversation this early in the morning. Maybe she was here to check on me, but she looked too subdued for that. She looked exhausted, and there were shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn’t gone to bed yet.
“I was just making a pot of coffee. Do you want some?”
“Sure, that would be nice.”
She followed me into the kitchen, looking around the room curiously.
“Have a seat.”
Grabbing two cups from the cabinet, I pressed the pause button on the coffee pot and poured us each half a cup. We could have more when the pot was finished.
“I’m sorry but I don’t have cream. I might have a packet of sugar somewhere.”
“Black is fine,” she answered.
I sat across from her, studying her face. She seemed so different from the confident woman I’d seen last night.
“How did you get my address?” I asked. “Did Angela give it to you?”
I hoped my boss wasn’t in the habit of giving out her employee’s personal information.
“No. I begged her for it repeatedly, but she wouldn’t budge. She’s a stickler for privacy. She told me if I wanted to see you again, I could wait for your next shift.”
“Oh good.”
“I didn’t want to wait that long, so I did some internet stalking last night,” she admitted with a wry smile. “That didn’t work, so I suckered a friend who’s kind of a hacker into searching for your address.”
When I looked at her in shock she grimaced, looking almost embarrassed. I had a feeling it wasn’t something that happened very often.
“Yeah, I know, it’s a total stalker thing to do, and I apologize for the invasion of your privacy. I just, I needed to see you. To tell you something. I won’t bother you again after this, if that’s what you want.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Go on.”
“I’ve been coming to the club for a long time,” she started. “To be honest, I’ve been getting tired of it. I enjoy the dynamic, creating scenes, learning how to wring the most pleasure out of someone while still bringing them to the edge of their pain threshold. But it’s gotten old, to be honest. This endless parade of nameless, faceless women is exhausting.”
She took a sip of her coffee, looking at me expectantly, but I didn’t know what she wanted me to say.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“The thing is, I only very rarely have sex with my subs. And I never, never kiss them.”
