High (3 page)

I’ve completely lost track of where I am or why. All I know is I’m in a hotel suite, and there are lots of people here. Everything is trashed, furniture is overturned, lamps and glasses smashed on the floor, and I’ve never seen so much blow, pills and booze in one place in my life. In the middle of the room is a glass coffee table and in the centre is a glass fruit bowl with a block, not a bag—a block of coke in it. Now
this
is a party.

I may have inhaled a fair amount of said block because it’s free, why not? Music blares around the room, and I’m dancing, my hips swaying to the beat as I throw my head back.

The girl dancing with me laughs, tossing her purple hair over her shoulder. Her black dress has diamond shaped holes cut out of it, showing her tanned skin. She runs her hands over her body as she moves, and she’s beautiful. Everything about her is sensual, confident, perfect. She moves closer to me, running her hands over my stomach and her fingertips set my skin on fire. I glance down as her black painted nails lightly trail over my body, and…I’m in my bra. Where did my top go? She steps closer, pressing her body against mine, and dropping her face to my neck, kissing me gently, her lips are barely a whisper against my skin, but it feels so good. I’m too hot, too sensitive, too much. I tilt my head to the side, allowing her more access, and then I spot Rush, leaning against the back of a sofa watching us, with a smile on his face. He has a look in his eye that makes me lean into her kiss and thread my fingers through her hair. I am completely in the moment, ruled by sensation and instinct alone. There is no thought, just feeling. So when she lifts her face from my neck and presses her lips to mine, I kiss her back. I kiss her because she feels good. Her lips are soft and she tastes of vodka and cranberry.

Goose bumps prickle my skin as she sweeps her fingers over my shoulder, sliding my bra strap down.

“Let’s go.” She whispers against my lips, and I let her take my hand. She leads me to a bathroom and closes the door. I let her kiss me and touch me, and I like it, I want more. She shoves my bra straps down and then the cups until my boobs are pushed up and on display. She sucks one nipple and then the other, grazing over the sensitive skin with her teeth. Her touch is gentle, sensual, attentive. I’ve never been with a girl before, but now, I wonder why. Her lips skim down my body until she’s crouched in front of me. She smiles, her teeth so white against her red lipstick.

“What’s your name?” She asks in a southern accent as she slowly drags my lace thong down my legs until I step out of them.

“Blake.” My voice is thick, husky, laced with sex.

She slowly rises again, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’m Stevie, you’re beautiful Blake.”

I nod and she smiles again, pushing me back until my legs bump the toilet. “Sit.” She says, patting the top.

My head spins. It’s like I’m not really here. I do as she says, sitting on top of the toilet. She grips both my thighs as she leans over me, nipping at my bottom lip. I’m so hot. I press my back to the tile, relishing in the coolness. My heart hammers against my ribs as the room starts to spin. I’m vaguely aware of her pushing my thighs apart, and then her lips are on the inside of my thigh, moving, up, up, until her tongue brushes my clit, sending little tremors skittering over my body. My back bows away from the wall and my fingers find her hair, teasing through the soft strands.

The music outside the room grows louder and then quiets again. When I glance up away from the back of Stevie’s head, I see Rush, standing, watching. My eyes lock with his, and all I can see is pure, raging lust. He’s going to watch her fuck me, and that’s hot.

My eyes never leave his as Stevie spears me with her tongue, making my mouth drop open in a silent moan. Rush groans, biting his bottom lip until his lip piercing clicks against his teeth. She turns and glances at him for a split second before going straight back to what she was doing.

He yanks his belt open, shoving his jeans and boxers down like they’re on fire. My eyes drop to his cock—his big, pierced cock. He fists it, stroking over the skin violently.

Stevie forces my thighs further apart, flicking her tongue over me until I’m rolling my hips and gripping her hair, riding her face shamelessly.

“Fuck!” Rush growls, stepping up behind her and ripping her dress up until it’s around her waist. My own breathy moans intertwine with the sound of material tearing before he grabs her hips and slams into her. Letting out a long groan, her nails sink into my thighs. as she lets out a long groan. I whimper as her hot breath blows over me, causing me to whimper, and then she’s licking, sucking kissing me frantically, whilst Rush pounds into her. His eyes hold mine the entire time. I watch him fuck her and he watches her fuck me. It’s so fucking dirty. Every time he thrusts inside her, he pushes her against me more and her nails dig into me harder..

“Fuck. Come for me, babe.” He growls pounding into her harder, but it’s not her he’s talking to. The harder he fucks her, the harder her tongue is fucking me, until I fall apart, shattering. I scream as my entire body tenses and then explodes outwards. The orgasm seems to go on forever, that much more intense thanks to the blow. I watch as Rush snarls like a feral animal and then stiffens, thrusting into Stevie and gripping her hips on a roar.

I lean my head back against the bathroom tile, trying to catch my breath as my pulse hammers in my ears. I don’t know what just happened, but it was really fucking good. I climb off the back of the toilet while Stevie rearranges her dress. Rush leans against the vanity, dick still hanging out as he lights a cigarette. I find my thong and hot pants and put them back on before putting my tits away. I still have no idea where my top is, but fuck it. I glance up at Rush and he’s watching me, a wry smile on his lips as he exhales smoke through his nose.

Stevie places a quick kiss on my cheek and leaves without a word. And then it’s just him and me, in a bathroom together. Me, with my bra on, and him with his dick still out, still hard, and that piercing glinting under the bright bathroom lights.

Moving closer to him, I take the cigarette from his fingers, press it to my lips and inhale. His eyes drop to my lips, and as I pull the cigarette away from my mouth, he grabs my waist, yanking me close to him. His lips touch mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. I make no move to touch him as my eyes flick between his mouth and his eyes.

I should step away because he’s a rock star, and as much of a slut as I am, even I don’t like herpes. Usually, I would, I should, and yet something about him makes me want him.

“Cushion?” He breathes against my lips. “I’ll even let you snort a line off my dick.”

Well now, there’s an offer I can’t resist.

I wake up and roll over wincing when something hard and very uncomfortable presses against my spine. I reach underneath me and pull out a ball—a pool ball, because, yep, I’m on a pool table. I sit up slowly, squinting as I glance around me. The pool table is littered with used Jonny’s. I don’t know what day or time it is. I’ve lost track. All I know is that I’ve been in a non-stop cycle of booze, blow, and Rush for days now. Rush is passed out next to me, his dick still hanging out…standard protocol for him.
What the fuck? Oh, God…no.
I reach up, pulling a sticky condom away from my cheek.  I grimace as I remove another one from the back of my thigh. That’s fucking gross.

I slide off the table and stagger through the suite because I really need to piss. Bodies are everywhere, and when I push the bathroom door open, there are two more people in here. One passed out in the bath, the other asleep with their cheek pressed against the toilet seat.
Gross.
I shove him with my foot and he falls to the side, smacking his head on the tile. He doesn’t even wake up. I piss and wash my hands, glancing in the mirror at my reflection. God, I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I don’t think I’ve washed. I’m wearing an over sized band t-shirt, nothing else, and there are thick, scabbed over claw lines down my thighs.

My hands shake as I dry them. I can feel the imminent come down just waiting to hit and drag me into the depths of hell. I take a few lines at a party for fun. I like it, it makes me feel good, it makes life more fun. This rock star shit, though, it’s like taking a kid to a candy store and turning them loose. No one can take that much coke for several days and just go cold turkey afterwards. I need a line. Just a small line.

My eyes roam over the carnage as I move through the suite looking for a baggie. Any fucking baggie. The longer I look, the more violent the shakes become, until they’re nearly convulsions. I catch movement to the left and spot the lead singer coming out of one of the bedrooms. His eyes skirt over me and fix on my face, narrowing. Wordlessly he walks up to me, shoves his hand in his pocket then hands me a tiny bag of white powder and a twenty-dollar note.

“Chase the fucking dragon, princess.” And then he just walks away.

I rush to the coffee table, pouring out a messy line and snorting it. I fall back against the sofa, the cool wooden floor biting into the backs of my thighs.

The coke kicks in and pulls my brain back into sync, calming my convulsions. I slowly open my eyes, mortified at what I see. Right there, in the middle of the coffee table, at eye fucking level is a human shit. Someone took a fucking shit on the coffee table.

I guess there are moments in life that make you re-evaluate yourself. This is one of them. Maybe it’s the fact that I just snorted a line off that table only feet from said offending shit, or maybe it’s just the concept that I have lowered myself to socialising with people who would take a shit on a table. I mean, it’s not like I have high standards for these things, but a human shit? A. Shit.

I’m done.

I need to go home.

When I wake up, I have no clue where the fuck I am. It takes me a second to catch up. Milly’s flat. London. I glance at my phone and it’s one in the morning. Fucking hell. Jet lag is a bitch, and to top it off I’m on the most horrific come down of all time. Apparently that was a three-day non-stop party before the turd incident, and the sudden lack of drugs has hit me hard. Everything just seems shit, not helped by a severe lack of sleep and my body clock being shot to shit.

I pick up my phone and a text flashes on the screen.

Felix:
Yo bitch! I hear you’re back. Come see me ASAP. Xx

I lay back against the pillows but this shitty feeling will not leave. If there is one thing I don’t do, it’s come downs. Fuck this shit.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and go to the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Fuck, I look like something that just fell out of a dying animals prolapsed bowel. I splash cold water on my face and drag my fingers through my hair in an attempt to disrupt the birds nest. I jump when I catch sight of something in the mirror and whirl around to catch a tiny furry bum nip around the corner of the door frame.
What the fuck? Is that a hamster?
I go after it, but when I poke my head around the door, it’s gone. Okay, way too many drugs. Apparently I’m now hallucinating.