Dirty Bad Strangers(33)

My stomach lurched. Shit. I scurried to the living room, flinching again as I dropped to all fours to recover the phone from under the sofa. Sure enough there were fifteen billion calls or thereabouts. A few billion messages, too.

“Shit,” I said. “I had my phone on silent.”

“Looks like it!” she screeched. “You’d better call her, if I don’t call back within ten minutes she’s calling the police. We thought you were being raped, or killed, or abducted or some other crazy shit.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think Tessa would get the message til later.”

“Yeah, well she did.” Chelsea dropped herself onto the sofa. “I risked my life for you, Gemma Taylor. I hope you appreciate that.”

It was strangely sweet. “You came in all guns blazing,” I smiled. “Like a real heroine.”

“I’m hardly gonna let some chatline freak kill my bestie, am I?”

“Clearly not,” I grinned. “Seriously, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry for stressing you out.”

“Tessa’s blowing a gasket, too,” she said. “You’d better call her.”

I dialled the number, bracing myself for the torrent. Luckily it rang to voicemail and I left a garbled and highly apologetic message.

“She must be with a patient,” Chelsea surmised. “Just as well for you.”

I flopped down beside her, teasing back my sweaty curls. “I really am sorry.”

Her blue eyes pierced mine. “You’d better start talking. Who is he? What happened?”

“He’s just a guy,” I lied. “It was just a date.”

She leant forward to sniff me. “Like fuck it was. This place stinks of sex, and so do you.”

“It was just a date...” I repeated. “A date with sex.”

Her face was a picture of horror. “You fucked a chatline weirdo?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Urgh, I bet he was a right munter.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I really don’t think he was.”

“You don’t think he was?!”

“I didn’t see that much of him...” I mumbled.

“So, you fucked the guy but you didn’t see that much of him?”

I shrugged and tried to bluster my way out of it, but she didn’t let it go until I relented. “I was blindfolded, ok? It was about the sex. A crazy kink. I shouldn’t have worried you, but he wasn’t a psycho killer, he was just a really hot guy.”

“You’re out of your mind!” she hissed. “Seriously bloody cuckoo!”

I couldn’t really argue with her, which made a change.

“What’s done is done,” I sighed. “I’m really sorry. I won’t worry you again.”

“But you will see the weirdo again?”

I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Probably.”

“Probably?!”

“Definitely,” I laughed. “I’ll definitely see him again. If he calls, that is.”

“Jesus Christ,” she scowled. “You’ve got serious issues, Gemma Taylor.”

I couldn’t really argue with her about that, either.

I checked the time. “I really do appreciate the rescue and all, but I’ve got pole at six.”

She stood to leave, jabbing an angry finger at me. “This isn’t the end of this. Not by a long stretch.”

I didn’t doubt it.

I thought I’d escaped lightly until she folded her arms by the front door. I died at the pout on her lips, the inevitable precursor to some unpleasant demand.

I should have seen this one coming.

“Now I risked my life to save yours, you will be coming with me to Kings on Saturday night, won’t you?”

Shit.

How could I possibly say no?









If I hadn’t wanted to see Cara so badly, I’d definitely have given pole a miss. I was practically limping, insides all mushed up from my epic fuck. I hoped they’d go back to normal, sooner rather than later.

The rest of the ladies gave it their all, while I did my best to smile and look like I was trying. I caught Cara’s eyeline throughout the class, her chocolate stare curious and quizzical.

She collared me when the room had cleared, just like I hoped.

“Something tells me you saw your mystery caller,” she smiled.

“That obvious?” I beamed.

“Either that or you’ve given birth recently,” she laughed. “My money’s on rough sex. I’d know the limp anywhere.”

“I’m really bloody limping,” I admitted, plonking myself down on a bench at the sidelines. “It was hardcore.”