Free Dirty Little Lies by Clare James Page B

she
doesn’t storm out of here before I get the chance to tell her the truth.
     
     

Chapter 1 3
     
    Gabe’s admission jolts me out
of my afterglow and leaves me unsteady as I try to make sense of what he’s just
said. He filmed us—and our filthy exploits—as some sort of twisted initiation
rite for The Club. His eyes search mine as if trying to communicate something,
but I quickly look away. I can’t believe he did this to me. Tightening my grip
on the covers, I snag each article of my clothing that Gabe passes over to me.
I keep the sheet around my body, trying to shield all my delicate bits from the
camera. And from him.
    The fucking sleezball. 
    My skin is itchy and I want a shower. I want to wash away
the entire night. Fighting nausea, I swallow down the saliva currently pooling
in my mouth. It’s hard to believe that only moments ago I was soaring from the
most intense orgasm of my existence.
    Gabe doesn’t say a word now—cat’s got Mr. Suave’s tongue.
Further proving that all of this has just been an illusion, one shattered at
the mention of a sex tape.
    After I’m put together, Gabe gently takes my arm to lead me
back to the meeting room. I yank it from him, but continue to follow because
I’m too confused—and queasy—to do anything else. By the time we reach the room
full of people, I’ve officially come down from my high.
    The entire place has now lost its appeal. The beat of the
music is too loud and forced, and the floral smell wafting through the room is
giving me a headache.
    I was ready to do almost anything to get my membership
card into this place . I wanted to bathe in the adrenaline rush I got
from Gabe. It was the most thrilling experience—there with him, in that room,
as he did the most delicious things to me. The fact that people were watching
us on the other side of the wall only heightened the encounter. It’s odd that
it’s taken me so many years to I discover I’m kinky. Who knew?
    Of course, I’ve always loved my toys—and even had a few
boyfriends who were down with it. But after Max flipped his shit when he saw my
box of goodies on move-in day, I guess I just buried that part of me.
    And that pisses me off even more. I finally uncover this
piece of myself after all this time, only to have it taken away from me.
    There’s only one person to blame, and once I regain my
balance, I’m on the attack.
    “You cocksucker,” I yell at Gabe, smacking his chest. He’s
not going to get away with this.
    Gabe grabs my arm tightly. Too tight. His mouth is in a
straight line, but his eyes betray him. They’re wide and frantic, and he looks
a little freaked out—like he is the one who just found out he’s the lead
character in a porn flick. My body is almost convulsing in anger, and hitting
him isn’t enough. I know I should be throwing some of this anger back at myself
for being so incredibly stupid.
    Now, all I can think about is where that video might land.
And all the pervs who are going to get off by watching me get off. Oh God. What
if the people at work find out? Or worse?  My parents—the sweet, suburban
Sinclairs. I could just see it: Mom and Dad shopping online for the latest
kitchen gadget at William Sonoma and stumbling upon their little girl getting
serviced on the internet for all to see.
     No, this situation cannot get worse.  
    Is it wrong I’m also worried about the angle of
the camera and if it captured my good side? What, too soon?
    “I’m sorry,” Gabe says, leading me back toward the main
bar. “I knew you wouldn’t do it if I told you about the initiation. And then
you would’ve missed out. You were on another plane, Stevie. I know you enjoyed
the hell out of that.”
    “Missing the point.” I struggle from his grip. What a
nightmare. This is why someone like me belongs at home—eating ice cream in her
Hello Kitty pjs—not running wild in the city. 
    “Please hold on for a minute,” Gabe says, tensing his grip
on me. “Give me a chance