Boiling hot rage bubbled through her veins. He was reminding her of her promises? Promises to what, love him and stand up for him? Be there when he needed someone? Yeah right, more like he needed a toy to play with, an object to hold. Needed to control her and consume her. Own her. How could he possibly say that to her? She had needed him, and he'd let her down. Ripped the bottom out of her world. Lied, manipulated, made a mockery of – that's all he'd ever done to her. She felt so stupid.
I thought I could play in their world. That I could be a sex kitten. But I'll never be that girl from the profile. I'm just boring old beige Katya Tocci. I was out of my league.
No. NO. She would not fall into that trap. Liam may have helped, but Katya had made the decision to go out with him. Katya had walked into that club, and Katya had agreed to sleep with him. She had taken the leap, all on her own, without help from either of them. She was strong, and she was brave. She could be anything she goddamn wanted to be.
I'll show them that we're not even playing in the same league.
She started yanking open drawers in the bathroom and pulling out all their beauty products. She always wore her fresh-face makeup. Cute and innocent. Screw that – those men had fucked away cute and innocent a long time ago. She dragged some thick black eyeliner across her lids, then smudged up the line, giving herself a trashy, sexy, smokey eye. Next she found a deep red lipstick that looked great against her skin, so she put it on extra heavy, making her lips looker fuller. Pouty-er. Perfect. She raked her hair up into messy bun on top of her head, called it good, then left the bedroom.
She ran on tip toes into Tori's room and started rifling through the other girl's dresser. They were different sizes, but similar heights, and could occasionally swap clothes. Tori was a much sexier dresser, though, and that's what Katya was looking for right then.
She found a black fitted crop top. Or was it a bustier? It showed a lot of tit and all her stomach, that's all that mattered. A couple pins in the back and she had it fitting snug on her body. She wiggled into some tiny, almost microscopic, black shorts, then looked in a full length mirror.
It was probably more skin than she'd ever shown in an outfit. Awkward pins and all, the top still looked amazing on her, and even barefoot, her legs looked about a mile long. That brought back a memory from a lifetime ago. Wulf calling, asking her on their second date. She'd been so surprised – why on earth would Wulfric Stone want to see her again?
“Because you have amazing legs.”
She'd thought it was just flirting. Now she knew it was only because Liam had asked to see her again.
She stormed back into the bathroom and only turned on the lights over the mirror. She leaned backwards and forwards, trying to find the best angle for her cleavage that would still show some of her body. She held her hand awkwardly above her head, made a duck face, then took a picture. Popped out her hip, took another picture. Winked, another pic. Licked her lips, another pic.
After about ten photos, she went into the living room and powered up her laptop. She transferred all the pictures to her computer, then looked through them. She didn't even recognize herself. All the makeup and the close up lighting had washed out her face a little, making her skin look flawless. Her chest was caught in the bright light, the rest of her body carved out of shadows, making her look curvy in all the right places. The red lips and smokey eyes completed the look. She looked like a walking, talking advert for sex. Raw, nasty, raunchy, filthy, sex.
The first picture she'd taken, that was the one. Her pursing her lips, blowing a kiss. Her lids at half mast, giving her bedroom eyes. Her breasts thrust high and center stage, demanding a second glance.
Fucking perfect.
She found her way to a website she hadn't visited in over a month. Dusted off a profile and reactivated it. Since she'd never changed anything and had only deactivated, all the original info was still there. Still the same party girl with some sexy personal hobbies – but now, that girl had the picture to match. She uploaded the duck face pic to the profile, then picked up her phone.
She had to redownload the Eros dating app, but once she did, she went straight to her own profile. There was the sexy party girl, blowing her a kiss from the top of the screen. Talking about being kinky at the bottom of the screen. Absolutely perfect.
She put down the phone. Shut off the laptop. Leaned back into the sofa and stared at the ceiling. It was so quiet in the apartment, she could hear her own heartbeat.
I don't need them. I don't need them. I don't need them.
“Kat?” Tori sounded sleepy from the hallway. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Katya took a deep breath.
“It's the only place I feel comfortable,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing, let's go back to bed.”
She scrubbed off the make up and changed into pajamas. Crawled onto her bed and pressed her back against Tori's. As she closed her eyes, she took a couple more deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Looks like little Katya Tocci finally grew up.
To Be Continued ...
SOUNDTRACK
Songs that I listened to while writing, songs that made me think of the story, and a couple that inspired actual scenes.
● Sia – Cheap Thrills ● Caterina Valente – Kiss of Fire ● Lisa Fischer – Ruler of My Heart ● Creedance Clearwater – I Put A Spell On You ● Ke$ha – Dirty Love ● Ariana Grande – Dangerous Woman ● Bryan Ferry – Slave to Love ● Zayn Malik – Pillowtalk ● Nick Jonas ft. Tove Lo – Close ● Lo-Fang – Boris ● The Chainsmokers – Don't Let Me Down
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I went through a super long dry spell. I wrote The Bad Ones in December of 2015. Of course there was lots of editing and rewriting that happened, but the rough draft and main content were done in December.
And then I didn't write anything else until August of 2016.
Oh, for sure, I started things. Started lots of things. Even got up to 40,000 words on one story (about half of an average length novel). But nothing stuck. Everything felt forced, I wasn't into it. Since publishing, that was the longest stretch of time I've gone without completing some kind of work. It wasn't even necessarily writer's block – I just didn't WANT to work.