Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page A

places?She’d thrown herself at him and he’d said yes.He was obliged to be charming and sexy, the guy every woman wanted in her bed and a lot of men, too.But Charlie was tired of waking up and wondering who lay next to him.
    This one was like all the others.Hot body, single brain cell.Charlie hadn’t even been to sleep and he still couldn’t remember her name.He focused on her chest as she ran her hands around her perfectly round breasts, pointing little brown nipples in his direction, her weapons of destruction.His cock twitched and he licked his lips.
    “Don’t you want me, Charlie?”
    Yes and no.He looked under the bed.No underwear but plenty of empty condom wrappers.He grimaced.Charlie gave up, grabbed his jeans and went commando, zipping himself up carefully.The bitch had probably hidden his boxers so she could sell them on eBay.It wouldn’t be the first time.
    “Charlie?”
    “Sorry, I’ve got a job first thing tomorrow,” he lied.
    “Got any coke, then?” She lay back, tweaking her diamond-hard nipples with fidgeting fingers.
    He’d wondered if her tits were fake because they were so perfect.He hadn’t seen a scar, though he’d heard surgeons could go in under your armpit.Charlie had a vague interest in checking, but didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, plus she looked too young to have had that sort of surgery.She looked very young. Shit.
    “How old are you again?”
    “Sixteen.Do you think I’m big enough?” She squeezed her breasts.
    “Yeah, you’re great,” Charlie said. Jesus, sixteen!
    He slipped on his shirt and pulled a foil wrap from his pocket.He tossed it onto her flat stomach, looked for his shoes, and remembered he’d left them downstairs.
    “Great fuck, thanks a lot,” he said and left without a backward glance.
    Downstairs the party was still in full swing, swing being the operative word by the look of the two half-naked men and one naked woman entwined on the couch, but he’d had enough.Charlie located his shoes and left.
     
    It wasn’t until the next day, when Charlie heard a TV newsreader say it, that he remembered her name.India Westerby.Age sixteen.In a coma after a party at the home of Justin Denton, lead singer of “Blast”.Charlie’s first thought was, thank God she really was sixteen, then, thank God it happened after he left, and then, fucking hell, had he done that?He looked at the wrap of coke in his fingers, thought about using it and tossed it in the toilet.The poor kid, he thought and threw up.
    Justin didn’t answer his calls until late afternoon.
    “What happened last night?” Charlie’s heart hammered so hard and fast, he imagined it was the start of a heart attack.It would serve him right.
    “Christ, it’s been a fucking nightmare.I went upstairs about three this morning and found her on the bed, coke and blood all over her face.Brian Jackson was in the corner, gibbering like a baby.I had to call the police.Brian admitted he’d given her coke and they arrested him.God, I am so fucked over this.My house,” Justin wailed.
    Charlie tried to swallow the lump in his throat and failed.“Did the police want to know who was there?”
    The pause said everything.
    “I had to, mate.Everyone saw you.You were with her for a while.”
    “Umm.”
    “Don’t get in a twist about it.She was down here dancing topless after you left, dipping her tits in Grand Marnier and letting everyone have a suck.The stupid bitch.My manager’s back again.I got to go.”
    Charlie’s hands shook as he put down the phone.Brian Jackson, drummer of “The Flakes” might have given India coke, but so had he.The packet had his prints on it.His fucking boxers were still in the room.Probably.Had he flushed the condom?Charlie couldn’t remember.He retched.He was pathetic.He could have killed her and all he could think about was saving his own ass.The contents of his stomach rose into his mouth yet again and he rushed to the bathroom.
    When he looked in the mirror, Charlie