I pushed past the door and stepped into the hallway.
The party was still going. Loud. Drunken. Horny.
I could barely see through the haze of lights and sweat and bodies moving. Music pounded through the walls. Someone screamed from upstairs.
I didn’t stop.
I didn’t look back.
I walked fast, clutching the hem of my dress like it could hold me together. My thighs were ruined. Clinging to me like glue. I could feel the mess I’d made of myself every time I moved. Wet. Hot. Raw.
A hand reached out.
Tried to grab my waist.
“Hey baby, where you goin—”
“Don’t you f*****g touch me,” I snapped.
The guy jerked his hand back like I’d burned him.
Good.
Because I was f*****g burning.
I shoved past him, past a couple grinding against the wall, past two girls licking something off each other
