Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Charlotte
Myvisionisblurryandmyheadisfuzzy.
I make my way to the bathroom slowly, but with a smile on my face. I’ve drank before but not often and definitely not this much. I’ve always been a happy drunk, just wanting to have fun.
I walk into the foyer, leaving the loud chatter of people and music behind me. I find the bathrooms around the corner and the line is so long. Easily ten women waiting outside the door. I can’t imagine how many are inside. I roll my eyes and take off back where I came from, knowing if I don’t find another bathroom fast, I’ll be heading outside to pee in the bushes. Which I really don’t want to do. This is a wedding, not a frat party. I should not have waited so long to pee.
Walking down the long hallway, past closed off rooms, the lights don’t shine as brightly down here but I make out a sign at the end with an arrow pointing towards another set of bathrooms. I rush that way and let myself in, turning the lights on as I enter.
I wobble into the first stall and sit harshly on the toilet, the seat clanks below me and I let out a laugh. A moment later the door opens. Someone must have followed me down here. My secret bathroom is no longer secret. I finish my business and flush the toilet. As soon as I swing open the door, the lights shut off. I look up, wondering if they are on a sensor, but when someone wraps a hand around my mouth and pushes me up against the cold tile of the wall, I know that’s not the case.
Panic rises through my body. Growing up as a female, we always hear horror stories of being taken advantage of while drinking, and especially at parties. But this is a wedding. I can’t be raped in the bathroom.
The man behind me presses his large body against mine, his beard covered cheek rubbing against my own. A deep, husky laugh leaves his mouth, sending chills through my body.
“Did you think that was funny?” Realization strikes. “You haven’t teased me enough over these years?” He grinds against me, letting out a groan, and I can’t help but react to him, my body heating and relaxing at his touch. I know he won’t hurt me, not really. “You are really going to regret what you’ve done.” He tsks. “I’m wondering if you’re doing this because you want to be punished?” His free hand slides down my side, stopping at the bottom of my dress and pulling it up over my ass, leaning into me his body holds it up as he pulls his hand away. A sharp sting throbs across my asscheek and I cry out, but it’s barely heard with his hand still over my mouth. “You’re wet for me aren’t you, Charlotte? Do you want me to be rough with you? Oh, I think you do. I think you like the idea of me punishing you. This game you’re playing, princess, it’s a dangerous one. I hope you know what you’re up against.” He removes himself from my body. The room is bathed in a dim light only for a moment as he exits the bathroom, and then I’m shrouded in darkness once again as it falls shut. I tug my dress back into its proper place, ensuring my ass is covered.
I take in a deep, shaky breath. My knees are even more wobbly than they were before. I walk towards the door, flicking the lights on before heading to the sink to wash my hands. My hair is a little messy but my makeup still looks perfect. I smooth my hair down, using a bit of water and smile at myself in the mirror.
Charlotte: 1
Jonathan: 1
He wants to play games? I can play games. I’m a nineteen-year-old college girl with a bunch of pent up sexual tension. Does he know what he’s up against?
A grin slides across my lips.
I’m so glad I decided to come home.
By the time I make my way back to the room, everyone is seated, preparing for dinner. I take my seat on the side of Jonathan, not a single hint that anything between us just happened. We’re served soup, then our meal, then dessert. We make small talk with the people at our table and watch as the Bride and Groom celebrate their happy day.
When we’re done eating, the dancing starts again.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Jonathan gets up and I watch as he makes his way to the bar. I hope he’s getting me another glass of wine.
I pull out my phone and check for any texts, but I have none. I thought maybe Mom would at least check in.
The seat on the side of me is taken once again by a smiling Michael who hands me a glass of wine.
“I saw that your cup was empty.”
I smile back. “How did you get this? Last I recall you weren’t any older than me.”
“I have my ways.” He winks.
I look over to the bar. Jonathan is standing there, leaning against it with one arm resting on the countertop holding a glass of whiskey while his other hand is shoved into his pocket. His stare is dark with promises of punishment. He’s not wrong about wanting him to punish me. Because I do. I want more of whatever he wants to give me. I want more of him and whatever comes along with it.
“How long are you going to be in town for?” Michael asks, pulling my focus away from Jonathan and back towards him. I can’t be sure, but I think I recall giving him way too much information about me while we were dancing. I vaguely recall mentioning something about a dry spell in bed… I probably should have slowed down on the wine, but it’s too late now.
“I’m here all summer,” I say with a smile, blinking slowly.
“Go out with me before you leave.” It’s not a question. “I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“I think that sounds nice.”
He pulls out his phone and hands it to me for me to enter my number and I do. At that, he stands and heads back to his table, telling me his mother has already threatened him for leaving her so many times tonight. I bite my bottom lip as he goes, noticing how well he fills out those dark blue suit pants.
I know someone else that isn’t very happy about him visiting me either.
Jonathan returns with a glass of alcohol for himself and a glass of wine for me.
“Seems someone beat you to it,” I say smartly, holding up my half empty glass of wine that Michael brought.
His eyes darken further and he bends close to me, whispering in my ear. “I’m not intimidated by your little high school boys. They don’t have shit on me. You’ll learn that soon enough.” He pulls away.
I take a long sip of my wine, licking my bottom lip slowly, never taking my eyes from his.
“Can’t wait.”