*Author's note- This is the fourth installment of the Goddess series. This chapter will make more sense and be much more meaningful if you read the previous Goddess stories—
Goddess
,
Leaving Heaven Behind,
and
Gladiators
—first.
I allowed Jeff to carry me all the way up the stairs to their dorm room, but had him put me down as Mark unlocked the door. I felt silly. I had no idea what they could possibly show me that would make me feel better or less embarrassed, but I was glad they were speaking to me again. I was also relieved to be out of my room, away from the tiny shards of my beloved mask that littered the floor.
Mark ushered us in and shut the door and we all just...stood there.
I didn't want to say anything. One: I was afraid of reminding them they were upset with me, and two: I didn't want to try and answer questions about Vegas. There was no way I could make that night sound any more coherent in their room than I had downstairs in mine. At this point, I felt certain I'd made it a much more poignant memory than it actually had been; it simply wasn't possible that it was as amazing as I kept remembering it to be.
Mark and Jeff looked at me, then at each other, then at me again, fidgeting and pacing as much as they could in the small space. Mark would open his mouth, look at the two of us, and then immediately shut it again. A few seconds later Jeff would do the same; it was getting weird. When I finally felt like I had my emotions under control, I cleared my throat.
"Well? What did you want to show me?"
They looked at each other again, a loaded stare that I'd seen between them before—usually out of the corner of my eye. Mark sighed and nodded, and Jeff retrieved something from the dresser between their beds. Without turning around, Jeff said,
"We didn't know how to tell you, especially once we thought you regretted it."
He stood with his back to me for another beat, then turned to me, handing me a piece of paper. Wait, no—a note. A note with Caesar's Palace letterhead. My stomach dropped into my shoes.
Oh my god...
I couldn't look away from the note, from the way it was puckered at the top with juices—my juices—that were long dry. The events of that wild masquerade night in Vegas flashed before my eyes. Prancing around in public while practically naked. Propositioning strangers. Letting two complete strangers fondle me and lick me and fuck me
at the same time
. My pussy was wet with the memories even as my face burned with humiliation and shame and...and I didn't even know what else.
How could this be here? How did they get it? How much did they know?
I anxiously looked up at Mark and Jeff, my eyes wide. Theirs were tense. My voice was small, but I was amazed that I could speak at all.
"Oh my god. How did you...where did you get this?"
Jeff gave me an exasperated look. Mark gnawed on his bottom lip and it finally clicked. His short, blonde hair notwithstanding, I was looking at the dark haired gladiator. One of two that had made me so wet with a stare across the dance floor. The one that had bitten his lip just. like. that.
I looked back and forth between the two of them and wondered how I'd been so goddamn stupid.
Blue hair? Shaved heads? I'm a fucking moron.
The note clutched in one hand and the mask fragment in the other, I put my fingers into my hair and clenched my eyes tight, my face on fire. The actions of our night together burned incessantly behind my closed lids. These men—my best friends!—had not only seen me naked, but had touched and licked my entire body, and fucked me every way conceivable.
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god! Oh my god! OH MY GOD!!!"
Hands still intertwined through my hair, I opened my eyes.
"Did you know it was me?"
Jeff gestured toward the note as if to say,
well, yeah
...I gripped my hair tighter and shook my head.
"I mean, obviously you know now, but
when
did you know it was me?"
Mark and Jeff looked at each other before they looked back at me, their eyes pleading.
"Uh...we recognized you at the bar, but...uh...we went there looking for you, Sara."
As the words left Jeff's mouth, I could better identify the other emotions that were making me burn now—betrayal and anger. My hands balled at my sides, the mask fragment cutting into one hand, the note crumpled in the other.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE LOOKING FOR ME??? How did you even know I was going to be there???"
They looked at each other uncomfortably. Jeff mumbled something about seeing something on my computer, but I wouldn't let him finish.
"So what? You followed me all the way to Vegas for what? To throw me a pity fuck???"
I was furious. The anger that had been directed downstairs at Michelle was nothing compared to what I was feeling towards the men I'd considered my closest friends. The fact that my nipples were achingly hard and my groin was throbbing from being so close to them only served to fuel my fury.
"You think I'm so pathetic that I couldn't get laid at a literal orgy???"
I don't know how I expected to react when I'd hoped to learn the identities of my gladiators, but it wasn't this, and every hypothetical conversation I'd had in my head that night had not prepared me for it. At all. The humiliation was crushing.
"DID YOU THINK THIS WAS FUNNY???"
Both Mark and Jeff stood staring at me like the proverbial deer in the headlights, and it made me all the more furious. How could they not expect this? Not see that their lack of faith in me as a woman would be construed as hurtful? And damn, it fucking
hurt
. The most incredible lovers in my life had only been there because they thought...what? That I was piteous? A joke? My voice fell into a harsh whisper.
"You fucks sat in my bed and
taunted
me. You knew, and you fucking
taunted
me. Did you come back here and have a good laugh about it?"
"No! No, Sara, not at all! It wasn't like that!"
"Really, Jeff? What was it like, then?"
I was so mad that I could see he was afraid to answer. I covered my face with my hands, the piece of mask poking between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, the note poking out of the other.
"Oh my god. Oh my god! I can't believe you saw me like that!"
My hands moved from my face to rake through my hair, and I started pacing in a tight circle, my stomach in knots.
Jeff reached out a hand to my shoulder to stop me, plucking the note from my fingers.
"Sara, look!
You
wrote this,"
The puckered note mocked me, and I felt my face burning an even deeper shade of red.
"But it was the best night of our lives, too!"
He looked at Mark. All Mark could do was nod mutely, but I saw it. Jeff turned back, hoping I'd calmed down, but his words didn't register with me and I was as mad as ever. I pushed his hand off of my shoulder and shook my head. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep humiliation from boiling over into tears as I had another epiphany.
"Of course you knew it was me. Your hair. You both cut and dyed your fucking
hair
to disguise yourselves? Why would you do that to me? What made that seem like such a great joke???"
"We weren't trying to trick you, Sara, we were trying to..."