The Perfect Scandal

Chapter Eighteen

Waking up to a flood of sunshine and the strong scent of coffee brewing, I stretched like a cat underneath the plush covers. I felt peaceful and well rested, ready to conquer this day despite the awkward tension I knew would be between me and both Morgans.

Only two more days Esme. Two more days, and another car ride. Stick to your guns, and keep your mouth shut unless it's to answer a question or ask one.

Wow I'm so full of good ideas.

As soon as I rolled out of bed, a rush of cool air grazed my bare skin. I shivered in delight, only to shriek at the sight of Mallory a few feet from me in the "kitchen", staring with a mug in hand. Grabbing one of the blankets off of the bed, I tried covering myself up to give myself at least a sense of decency.

"Good morning, Esme," the older woman purred, throaty and seductive. "Please, no need to hide yourself; I've seen it all before."

Rolling my eyes, I shuffled to my suitcase, not trying to lose my grip on the little coverage I had. This could have gone better. I wish she would have just stayed with her husband, rather than come back to the room. Would she talk to me about what happened last night? Well, let's hope not.

"Before you hurry off to get dressed, I want you to get into my luggage, pull out the small grey bag, and sit on the bed."

Humming in acknowledgement, I pulled out a simple outfit; dark jeans, white shirt, brown leather jacket, and a matching panty/bra set. I hadn't a clue what was scheduled for today, so better safe than sorry, aka punished.

I grabbed the bag, something light and oddly shaped inside, and held it in front of me, my eyes locked on Mallory. She didn't speak, instead flicked her eyes from me, to the bed. Taking the hint, I carried the item, and my sheet, over to the bed and plopped down. My limbs felt heavy already, and I knew if I sat any longer, I would definitely fall back asleep.

The dark haired woman rounded the counter and strutted towards me, wearing the same nightie she had had on last night, minus the robe. God, she's beautiful though. As disgusted as I was last night, and still nauseous this morning, I couldn't help but gawk at the vixen.

She snatched the bag from my hand, and used her other hand to grip my covers. "Either let go, or I'll rip it off of you and add a punishment."

Well, my options were limited.

Releasing my hold, a gust of air rushed over me from the movement of the blanket. Ignoring my instinct to shake and curl up into a ball, I clutched my palms to my thighs and watched Mallory open the bag and remove the mysterious object. It was pink and slightly resembled the ugly, deepsea fish that had a light over its head, except the "fish" part was smaller and slightly egg shaped and the whole thing was in the shape of a "C".

Mallory pressed her free hand against my knee, pushing it out and exposing my slightly unkept vagina (Mallory had told me to start growing out my hair). The same hand moved slowly, fingertips dragging up the inner portion of my thigh. I shivered, anxiousness and excitement swirling in my stomach.

Her palm covered me, fingers dancing in dark curls. "How wet are you, Miss Holland?"

"Probably enough," I rasped, my toes curling into the carpet.

A soft breath of ear escaped sinful lips, "Well I certainly can't have you guessing whether you're wet enough or not, so we'll have to fix that."