Forbidden Thirst

Exhausted from yet another disheartening interview, I trudged back home, my spirits deflated. Collapsing onto my bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling, the weight of disappointment settling over me like a suffocating blanket.

The creak of my bedroom door signaled Dillon's entrance; my best friend's concern evident as he took in my defeated posture.

"Lily," he said softly, his voice a gentle balm to my weary soul. "Another rough day?"

I nodded wordlessly, too drained to summon the energy for conversation.

Perching himself at the edge of my bed, Dillon's presence offered a silent comfort that words couldn't convey. For years, he had been my anchor in stormy seas, his unwavering support a constant source of strength.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he murmured, his gaze filled with empathy. "You deserve so much better than this."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back, refusing to succumb to despair.

"I just don't understand," I whispered hoarsely, my voice raw with emotion. "I've worked so hard, done everything right...and yet, it feels like I'm stuck in this endless cycle of rejection."

Dillon reached out, gently squeezing my hand in silent solidarity. In that moment, his touch spoke volumes, conveying a depth of understanding and compassion that transcended mere words.

"We'll figure this out together, Lily," he vowed, his voice infused with quiet determination. "I won't let you face this alone."

As we sat side by side on the bed, his embrace provided a momentary solace, allowing me to lean into the warmth of his shoulder.

"Do you know what might help?" he ventured, breaking the silence.

"What?" I responded, my confusion evident. At that moment, my mind was consumed by the pressing concern of finding a job, which seemed increasingly elusive.

"A drink, some music, and perhaps a one-night stand to alleviate some of your stress," he suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in his dark brown eyes.

I recoiled slightly, taken aback by his proposition. "That's easy for you to say. But how will a night out address my student loans or assist me in securing a decent job?" I grumbled, frustration lacing my tone.

"It's simple, like being a sugar baby. Long curly brunet hair, light brown eyes and chocolate skin. Sounds like all the recipe for a sugar baby." he quipped, his tone light but his suggestion landing with a weight I couldn't ignore.

"That's not funny!" I retorted, delivering a playful slap to his shoulder, though my discomfort lingered.

"Are you seriously suggesting I engage in such arrangements just to pay off my loans?" I demanded, incredulity coloring my words. "I'd sooner face the consequences of defaulting on my loans than resort to selling myself. The very idea goes against everything I've worked for. I didn't endure the hardships of university life just to become dependent on others." My arms crossed defensively, a firm resolve settling within me.

"Absolutely no baby-making in my house! This is a god-fearing household, and I won't tolerate any of it," my mother declared sternly, her finger pointed firmly at both of us as she retreated once more.

"Of course, Momma Daisy," Dillon sheepishly replied, his tone carrying a hint of embarrassment.

"Well, you could always consider becoming a surrogate. You carry the baby, give it away, and voila, no responsibilities. Plus, you're not technically losing your virginity, and it comes with a hefty paycheck," Dillon suggested, his words whispered into my ear.

"No," I responded firmly, shaking my head in disbelief at the audacity of the suggestion.

Dillon, with his neatly trimmed brown hair swept to the side, his skin as pale as snow, and his mischievous dark brown eyes, was undeniably handsome. He always seemed to have a line of admirers vying for his attention.

As for Dillon Simon, my only friend, he had a special place in my heart. We had met during our first year at Michigan and quickly became inseparable. Despite his relationship with Stella, who didn't see eye to eye with me, Dillon and I shared a unique bond.

Though they had been together for over four years, Stella remained possessive, always on guard against any perceived threats to her relationship with Dillon. She made it abundantly clear that she didn't appreciate the closeness between Dillon and me.

On the flip side, my own romantic history was embarrassingly sparse—I hadn't even experienced a kiss, let alone had a boyfriend. I lived my life strictly according to my mother's principles and values.

My mother's aversion to anything remotely associated with the "devil's work" resonated with me deeply, reinforcing my commitment to her way of life. It was this staunch adherence to our beliefs that had caused a strain between me and my best friend. While he and Stella indulged in activities that didn't align with my convictions, I found solace in attending church every Sunday, seeking refuge in familiar hymns and prayers.

"Lily, it's just for one night. You need to loosen up a bit. You don't have to go overboard, just have a little fun. You'll be with me and Stella the whole time," his persuasive tone chipped away at my resolve.

I knew I shouldn't even entertain the idea—it felt inherently wrong. But a small part of me yearned for a taste of freedom, a break from the monotony of my sheltered existence. At twenty-two, I hadn't experienced anything remotely resembling "fun."

"I'll... I'll think about it," I murmured reluctantly, fully aware of the potential repercussions if my mother ever found out. She'd likely cast me out without a second thought.

"Great! Just in case, Stella brought you a dress to wear," his casual remark caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless.

Stella buying me a dress? It felt like a twist in the plot. Given her clear disdain for me, something definitely felt off about her gesture.

Examining the garment, my stomach churned uneasily. The dress was a far cry from anything I'd ever wear willingly. It was a crimson lace creation, barely skimming my thighs, with an off-the-shoulder design that left little to the imagination.

"No! I can't possibly wear this. It's far too revealing," I gasped, the shock evident in my voice.

"Well, what do you expect to wear, Lily? A church dress? Remember, it's a club, not a church," he retorted, his tone tinged with exasperation.

The moment I held the dress up, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. Would I regret this decision in the morning? I had always resisted their invitations, knowing full well the tales of their wild escapades the following day.

"Now, don't you disappoint," he admonished gently, planting a kiss on my cheek before departing.

"But I haven't even decided whether or not..." My protest fell on deaf ears as he disappeared from sight, leaving me alone with the offending garment, its presence mocking me from across the room. Slumping onto the bed, I couldn't help but glare at the dress, a silent reminder of the impending choice I had to make.

Later that night..................

"You'll be fine, Lily," Dillon's reassuring whisper barely registered over the pounding of my heart. Stella, clad in a sleek black dress, stood beside him, her demeanor icy and aloof. Not a single greeting escaped her lips, confirming my suspicion that Dillon had coerced her into this charade.

"She only gave you this dress to save face. You two aren't even friends," a bitter voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of the underlying tension between us.

Despite my reservations, I had resolved to endure this for just one night. Sneaking out of my bedroom window at ten in the night, a time when my mother typically drifted off to sleep, I joined Dillon and Stella as we ventured towards the club.

Thankfully, years of walking in heels to church had prepared me for the six-inch stilettos adorning my feet. As we approached the entrance, I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. This wasn't just any club; it exuded an aura of opulence and exclusivity.

Observing the affluent patrons entering the establishment, I couldn't help but marvel at the extravagance of it all. It must have cost Dillon and Stella a small fortune, I realized with a tinge of bitterness. The money spent tonight could have easily wiped out my entire student loan debt.

"This must have cost you a fortune," I remarked, my tone betraying a mixture of awe and resentment.

"Actually, Stella has a friend who knows a friend that managed to get us in for free," Dillon clarified, shedding some light on our stroke of luck.

As my phone began to ring, I fumbled to retrieve it from my purse, only to collide with someone in the bustling crowd.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I apologized, hastily bending down to retrieve my shattered phone from the ground. Without bothering to check the caller ID, I stashed the broken device back into my purse.

Standing back up, I found myself face to face with a strikingly handsome man. He exuded an aura of athleticism, his well-built frame evident beneath his perfectly tailored suit. Towering at what seemed like six feet seven inches, he commanded attention effortlessly.

Were men like him a common sight in this club?

With Dillon and Stella already walking away, oblivious to my plight, I hurriedly dashed after them, determined not to be left behind in this unfamiliar territory.

The bouncer's approving glance lingered on me a little too long for my comfort as he ushered us into the lavishly dense club. I couldn't help but tug at the hem of my dress, feeling exposed under his scrutiny.

Once inside, Dillon and Stella made a beeline for the bar, eager to kick off the night with drinks. Despite my initial refusal, Stella was insistent, thrusting a cup of liquor into my hands. Not wanting to be a wet blanket, I reluctantly took a few sips, which quickly escalated into a few more cups.

"Come on, Lily, loosen up!" Stella encouraged, dragging me onto the dance floor where the pulsating beat of the music seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of my heart.

For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to surrender to the intoxicating atmosphere of the club. Lost in the euphoria of the moment, I danced as if I had not a single care in the world, the weight of my responsibilities momentarily forgotten.

It wasn't until I felt a pair of strong hands encircle my waist that I snapped out of my reverie. The familiar scent of cologne enveloped me as my mysterious dance partner pulled me closer, our bodies moving in perfect harmony with the music. Before I could react, his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Come away with me," his seductive whisper caressed my ear, sending shivers down my spine as his warm breath danced against my skin. It was a sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced, stirring pleasures I had only dreamed of.

Lost in the haze of the moment, I giggled in response to his words, my body still moving in sync with the pulsating rhythm of the music.

As I turned around, I was met once again by the strikingly handsome man I had collided with earlier. His sultry blue eyes bore into mine, sparking a fire within me that I couldn't ignore. His lips, glistened, beckoned to me, tempting me with promises of forbidden delights.

Without hesitation, I looped my arm around his neck, pulling him closer until our lips met in a fervent kiss. In that moment, I lost myself in the taste of him, savoring every sensation as our bodies pressed together in a passionate embrace.

Before I knew it, I was lifted effortlessly into his arms, his strong embrace enveloping me as he carried me towards the exit. With each step, I felt the familiar world I knew slipping away, replaced by the exhilarating unknown that awaited me beyond the club's doors. Little did I know, this encounter with a stranger was about to irrevocably alter the course of my life.