grabbing the top sheet in her wake, wrapping it around her nakedness sarong-style. She carefully opened the heavy wooden door. Peeking at the hallway, she quietly uttered a prayer of thanks that no one was up this early to witness her walk of shame. She ran like hell toward her room, hoping that her own door was open. It was unlocked, to her relief. She must’ve left it open after falling into a suspiciously deep sleep last night.
Heart racing, she quickly shut the door, leaning weakly behind it. For several seconds, she just stood there with her eyes closed, trying to process everything. How in the world did she end up sleeping with a stranger? And why did she give in so easily, like a cat in heat? She had been so careful all these years only to have her v-card punched with a one-night stand. Brilliantly irresponsible.
Nice work, Ms. Independent. A mocking voice inside her head drawled.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
How did she end up in his bed in the first place? Her memory was patchy.
The only logical explanation was she was drugged. She mentally recoiled. That would explain her lack of inhibitions, her too relaxed physical and mental state. She was extremely cautious whenever she was out on location shootings or if she didn’t know the photographer and his crew. She never drank or ate anything except if it came from her own stash. She had near-run-ins with several rohypnol-totting people in the biz. She took all precautions to avoid being victimized.
Who? Who would dare drug her here, at the castello of the groom-to-be? Why here of all places? On the eve of her best friend’s wedding?!
She shook her head to clear it.
Someone must have planned this but who? What was the motive? She racked her brain for answers and came up with none. She couldn’t think of anyone who was that angry with her.
There was only one other person who may have the answers to all of this.
The very one who initiated her into the joys of the act.
She closed her eyes again, her dismay intense.
Had she been raped? Was it possible that he was the one who planned this? Was all the bone-melting passion drug-induced?
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod!
She could feel recriminations creeping in slowly, adding further turmoil to her emotions.
She cradled her head and slid to the floor. She wanted to pack everything up and take the first flight to New York so she can pretend that last night never happened. But she couldn’t. She just can’t let Mel down on the most important day of her life.
Who was he? Well, obviously he was a guest or even a relative of the groom. She’d probably meet him at the wedding later that day.
She better prepare for that eventuality. What would she say to him?
She had to think of something!
She had to confront him and get answers. The very idea of facing him again made her flinch. It would be difficult to prove she’d been raped. Sure, he took her a bit roughly but she was a very willing participant. She didn’t feel revulsion when he touched and did all that sexually wicked things he did. Her body turned traitor on her and came alive in his hands.
She lost control over her body.
The realization tore her up. She had every opportunity presented and dangled in front of her in the past. She had practically worked with the best-looking male specimens in the world yet she never felt something as instantaneous as that.
The press would have a field day once their noses got a whiff of this. After all, she naively said she didn’t believe in premarital sex. How she fell off her high horse right now. She can’t even piece everything together. She lost her virginity to a virtual stranger who may have a hand on this all along.
But then again, so what if she lost it in the most dubious of circumstances? Her virginity brought her nothing but grief. She never really held on to it. Now that the deed was done, she can finally put this episode behind her. Besides, physically she may have been one, but in reality she had lost her
Heart racing, she quickly shut the door, leaning weakly behind it. For several seconds, she just stood there with her eyes closed, trying to process everything. How in the world did she end up sleeping with a stranger? And why did she give in so easily, like a cat in heat? She had been so careful all these years only to have her v-card punched with a one-night stand. Brilliantly irresponsible.
Nice work, Ms. Independent. A mocking voice inside her head drawled.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
How did she end up in his bed in the first place? Her memory was patchy.
The only logical explanation was she was drugged. She mentally recoiled. That would explain her lack of inhibitions, her too relaxed physical and mental state. She was extremely cautious whenever she was out on location shootings or if she didn’t know the photographer and his crew. She never drank or ate anything except if it came from her own stash. She had near-run-ins with several rohypnol-totting people in the biz. She took all precautions to avoid being victimized.
Who? Who would dare drug her here, at the castello of the groom-to-be? Why here of all places? On the eve of her best friend’s wedding?!
She shook her head to clear it.
Someone must have planned this but who? What was the motive? She racked her brain for answers and came up with none. She couldn’t think of anyone who was that angry with her.
There was only one other person who may have the answers to all of this.
The very one who initiated her into the joys of the act.
She closed her eyes again, her dismay intense.
Had she been raped? Was it possible that he was the one who planned this? Was all the bone-melting passion drug-induced?
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod!
She could feel recriminations creeping in slowly, adding further turmoil to her emotions.
She cradled her head and slid to the floor. She wanted to pack everything up and take the first flight to New York so she can pretend that last night never happened. But she couldn’t. She just can’t let Mel down on the most important day of her life.
Who was he? Well, obviously he was a guest or even a relative of the groom. She’d probably meet him at the wedding later that day.
She better prepare for that eventuality. What would she say to him?
She had to think of something!
She had to confront him and get answers. The very idea of facing him again made her flinch. It would be difficult to prove she’d been raped. Sure, he took her a bit roughly but she was a very willing participant. She didn’t feel revulsion when he touched and did all that sexually wicked things he did. Her body turned traitor on her and came alive in his hands.
She lost control over her body.
The realization tore her up. She had every opportunity presented and dangled in front of her in the past. She had practically worked with the best-looking male specimens in the world yet she never felt something as instantaneous as that.
The press would have a field day once their noses got a whiff of this. After all, she naively said she didn’t believe in premarital sex. How she fell off her high horse right now. She can’t even piece everything together. She lost her virginity to a virtual stranger who may have a hand on this all along.
But then again, so what if she lost it in the most dubious of circumstances? Her virginity brought her nothing but grief. She never really held on to it. Now that the deed was done, she can finally put this episode behind her. Besides, physically she may have been one, but in reality she had lost her
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