A Secret She Holds

Chapter three

My fingers traced the scar hidden by powder that spiraled down my arm as I waited. This idiot was taking an obscene amount of time to get ready.

The door bashed on my wall making me flinch. Taylor stood in my doorway with her arms open and her head back.

"How do I look?" she gave off a massive smile, retaining a laugh. She had on a short black dress and black pumps, her long blond hair reached the middle of her back. Dark red lipstick coated her lips which matched her dark eye makeup perfectly. She looked gorgeous.

"Perfect, now let's go." I slapped my thighs, pushing myself up. A pout replaced her glamorous features.

"I was expecting a bit more praise than 'perfect'. And no we can't leave. I refuse to let you leave this room looking like..." she gave me a quick look over "that." I scoffed at her rudeness. Taylor walked over to me and pulled me around by my shoulders, leading me to my closet.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I stared down at my t-shirt and jeans.

"My dearest Blake, what am I going to do with you?" She clicked her tongue. I sighed just as she gasped. "Where in god's name did you get this?" she held out one of my, well Faith's, very red, very revealing, skin tight dresses. It's a lot easier to fight in than it sounds. I must have forgotten it here after a job.

"Oh, ummm, I think my mom bought it for me a while back." The lie came out like a second language. She bought it almost instantly before shoving it in my direction.

"Put it on, now." She instructed reaching for my shirt. I slapped her hand away and snatched the dress from her grasp. In the bathroom I stripped and slid on the dress adjusting my binds in record time, Faith is used to quick changes.

"Yes!" Taylor clapped her hands together as she took in my outfit. The red dress with thin straps hugged my body tightly and reached less than mid-thigh, it went into a V down my chest. She took hold of my arm and dragged me to my bed where she then placed a bag and a curler next to me. I stared at them with fear in my eyes.

"What are you going to do with those?" I don't really do my hair, I do my makeup sometimes but when she pulls her stuff out well you better duck and cover. She is amazing with styling hair but she is nowhere near gentle, if it's not to her standards of perfect she gets frustrated and attempts to rip my hair from my skull, and she takes for fucking ever.  I don't mind her doing my makeup because frankly I suck and she always manages to make me look hot.

She waves the curler and starts taking slow steps in my direction. With every step closer I scoot back a little further.

"Blake, get your scrawny ass over here right now! We are leaving in 45 minutes and you don't look like fire." I knot my eyebrows together in sudden confusion.

"Fire?"

"Yes, fire. Completely mesmerizing, so luring, but if you get to close... you get fried like a damn piece of bacon on the hood of a black car in the middle of an Arizona summer!" she replies without hesitation. I laugh at her comparison and sadly she takes that opportunity to pounce on me. She straddled my hips as I squirmed and pulled my hair up. "If you don't sit fucking still I'm going to burn your hair off!"

I didn't really give a shit, I wouldn't stop moving. So of course my dad marches through the door. He froze and stared at our position. Taylor straddling my hips holding my hair to one side with my hand on her face and the other in the middle of her chest between her boobs. I'm pretty sure my dad thinks were lesbian already, this didn't help our case.

"Oh, umm, sorry. Bye." He said awkwardly before shutting the door. Taylor rolled off me turning red with laughter, I was chuckling as well.

Suddenly a piercing shriek echoed through the room, I looked over my shoulder at her. She was rubbing her bare shoulder holding the curler away like it was a penis that belonged to an old hairy hobo with AIDS. Her face held a pout as she stared at it angrily.