I hated myself.
No wonder I’d gotten bored. He was far too good for me. He needed someone sweet, not wicked. I could see the line of my grin in the mirror. Yes, wicked was a good word. I was certainly debauched right now. My head tilted again, trying to remember more of what happened before I’d fallen asleep and been moved to this location. He’d told me I was a good f**k. Well, that was a given. He’d wanted me again. Yeah, well, we’d see about that.
There was also the creepy woman who thought it perfectly fine for Armstrong to take me when I wasn’t in my right senses. She wanted to d**g me, so that I wouldn’t know anything about my night with Armstrong.
I could feel it a little in my stomach, the hangover. Maybe Aiden could give me something for that. Damn, there wasn’t much else coming
