Abigail
Note to self, getting your brains fucked out on a Sunday night has consequences you'll regret on a Monday morning.
My head was threatening to split open as I stepped out of my car.
Ugh, too bright.
It was barely eight, the sun had no business being this bright. I adjusted my sunglasses, gripping my Stanley cup like my life depended on it.
Three orgasms at the sanctuary last night and barely four hours of sleep, a lazy smile curled my lips.
It was worth it.
My hair was pulled behind in a ponytail, I needed it out of my face completely with the headache trying to pound my brains to mush. It was back to its natural black, every trace of the chestnut dye was rinsed out in this morning's shower until the water ran completely clear.
I couldn't have Finnegan sniffing me out now, could I? If Aphrodite showed up with a different color of hair that I did at work, that should get him off my trail.
Gosh, was it terrible that I was getting rather good at this?
