up sharply from my glass. The tone of her voice has altered: not consoling, not even questioning, but challenging.
She looks me square in the eyes. "He's got two girlfriends in this city alone, doesn't he?"
I nod slowly. Jake comes to town every other week for work; I let him stay at my place when he is here. He does not really hide the fact that he has several places to bunk in various cities; I just conveniently ignored that.
"You knew he couldn't give you what you wanted, but you went ahead and hurt yourself anyway." Her brows furrow. "Today, he fucked some random girl right in front of your eyes so you'd finally wake up." Her baby-pink lips twist into a sneer. "Good riddance. You should thank him." She spits the last words out and stands up.
Is Ginny angry? I have never seen her in a rage before. My heart is galloping from fear, and unexpectedly, arousal as well. Seeing her angelic face boiling with fury is electrifying.
She leans against her bar table and turns to look at me, her eyes dark and intense. "When will you grow up?"
My mouth gapes open. She is not angry with Jake on my behalf, but with me?
"Yes, you." Ginny's eyes burn into mine. "How long have we done this? Two years?"
I blush crimson as I recall my earlier thought, naively thinking I could count on Ginny to cheer me up after every bad relationship. I have never heard Ginny tell me about her problems in love. Wait. No. She has never had a lover during the time we have been friends.
"You bruise yourself over some dumb loser, and crawl over here, expecting me to nurse you back to health." She has neatly summarized the past two years of my life. That note in her voice, it is more than anger; what is it?
"Every. Single. Time." She articulates the words carefully. "You are so sure I'll lick your pussy back to happiness."
My God, is it disdain? Does my sweet Ginny despise me?
"You take me for granted." This last is spoken so softly it is barely audible, but the words drum into my heart with a force that knocks the wind out of me. My head reels with shame and a dread that is new to me. I have always counted on Ginny to be here for me, to be on my side. Have I driven her away with a lack of appreciation?
Panic strikes my heart: I cannot lose her friendship and care; I cannot lose her.
"No, Ginny," I begin to say. "I don't. I..." I stammer. For an extraordinary moment, I am at a loss for words. My hands are clammy with cold sweat.
"You're careless, sloppy." Ginny hisses. She looks me over slowly. The way her eyes travel coldly over my body sends icy shivers down my spine. I am not sure if I am frightened or turned on by her scrutiny. "You don't take care of your heart." she says as she cocks her head to one side. "Someone should teach you." A hint of a smile curls on her full lips. "Really teach you."
The word "teach" suddenly conveys a sense of menace that is foreign to me. I do not know which shocks me more: seeing Ginny angry with me, or that I am turned on with an unprecedented intensity by her sharp, harsh, but accurate opinion of me.
Ginny strolls over to me. Her long, shapely legs carry a strength I seem to have missed before. The grace in her movement is not only feminine; it is also feral and powerful. She walks towards me as a predator leisurely approaching her prey: certain of her ownership, she has come to taunt her kill.
"Don't sit on my sofa," she says.
The aftertaste of the wine turns to sawdust in my mouth.
"Kneel," she orders.
The sight of her looming tall in front of me, and the unmistakable authority in her voice make my head spin. This new Ginny incites terror in my heart, and yet, I do not dare walk away. I must obey; I want her to approve of me. No. I need her approval.
I slide off her leather sofa and kneel in front of her. I look up at her, unsure what she wants me to do next.
"Place your hands behind your back," she instructs. "Lock your fingers together and keep your wrists at the small of your back." The lilt in her
She looks me square in the eyes. "He's got two girlfriends in this city alone, doesn't he?"
I nod slowly. Jake comes to town every other week for work; I let him stay at my place when he is here. He does not really hide the fact that he has several places to bunk in various cities; I just conveniently ignored that.
"You knew he couldn't give you what you wanted, but you went ahead and hurt yourself anyway." Her brows furrow. "Today, he fucked some random girl right in front of your eyes so you'd finally wake up." Her baby-pink lips twist into a sneer. "Good riddance. You should thank him." She spits the last words out and stands up.
Is Ginny angry? I have never seen her in a rage before. My heart is galloping from fear, and unexpectedly, arousal as well. Seeing her angelic face boiling with fury is electrifying.
She leans against her bar table and turns to look at me, her eyes dark and intense. "When will you grow up?"
My mouth gapes open. She is not angry with Jake on my behalf, but with me?
"Yes, you." Ginny's eyes burn into mine. "How long have we done this? Two years?"
I blush crimson as I recall my earlier thought, naively thinking I could count on Ginny to cheer me up after every bad relationship. I have never heard Ginny tell me about her problems in love. Wait. No. She has never had a lover during the time we have been friends.
"You bruise yourself over some dumb loser, and crawl over here, expecting me to nurse you back to health." She has neatly summarized the past two years of my life. That note in her voice, it is more than anger; what is it?
"Every. Single. Time." She articulates the words carefully. "You are so sure I'll lick your pussy back to happiness."
My God, is it disdain? Does my sweet Ginny despise me?
"You take me for granted." This last is spoken so softly it is barely audible, but the words drum into my heart with a force that knocks the wind out of me. My head reels with shame and a dread that is new to me. I have always counted on Ginny to be here for me, to be on my side. Have I driven her away with a lack of appreciation?
Panic strikes my heart: I cannot lose her friendship and care; I cannot lose her.
"No, Ginny," I begin to say. "I don't. I..." I stammer. For an extraordinary moment, I am at a loss for words. My hands are clammy with cold sweat.
"You're careless, sloppy." Ginny hisses. She looks me over slowly. The way her eyes travel coldly over my body sends icy shivers down my spine. I am not sure if I am frightened or turned on by her scrutiny. "You don't take care of your heart." she says as she cocks her head to one side. "Someone should teach you." A hint of a smile curls on her full lips. "Really teach you."
The word "teach" suddenly conveys a sense of menace that is foreign to me. I do not know which shocks me more: seeing Ginny angry with me, or that I am turned on with an unprecedented intensity by her sharp, harsh, but accurate opinion of me.
Ginny strolls over to me. Her long, shapely legs carry a strength I seem to have missed before. The grace in her movement is not only feminine; it is also feral and powerful. She walks towards me as a predator leisurely approaching her prey: certain of her ownership, she has come to taunt her kill.
"Don't sit on my sofa," she says.
The aftertaste of the wine turns to sawdust in my mouth.
"Kneel," she orders.
The sight of her looming tall in front of me, and the unmistakable authority in her voice make my head spin. This new Ginny incites terror in my heart, and yet, I do not dare walk away. I must obey; I want her to approve of me. No. I need her approval.
I slide off her leather sofa and kneel in front of her. I look up at her, unsure what she wants me to do next.
"Place your hands behind your back," she instructs. "Lock your fingers together and keep your wrists at the small of your back." The lilt in her
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