Help Yourself (Billionaire Book Club 3) by Nikky Kaye

Author:Nikky Kaye [Kaye, Nikky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781988673028
Publisher: Nonskid Publishing
Published: 2018-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Serena

I didn’t have Marcus’s cell phone number. Not being able to get in touch with him now was even more frustrating than after graduation. After an hour (and a therapeutic shower), I called work. Mrs. Blake was fine, so all I could do was fall into bed with questions and a body that still vibrated from his visit.

What had taken him away? Maybe it was nothing, and he just used the opportunity to run. It was that possibility that kept me tossing and turning most of the night.

When I woke up, it was with an aching body, itchy eyes, and a rash of questions. Maybe I was allergic to Marcus Blake.

I didn’t know what hotel he stayed at—if he even did. I didn’t have his phone number. Hell, the best I would be able to do right now would be to use the contact form on his book’s website, and my pride had some limits. I wasn’t a stalker, for god’s sakes.

My questions would have to wait. Everything would have to wait.

So I did. I tried to go back to sleep, but I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for an hour before giving up.

Part of the problem was that my body was still humming from Marcus’s ministrations. My nipples were sensitive and swollen against my sleep tank, and there was a deep awareness of recent activity pulsating between my thighs. I wasn’t sore down there, exactly, just… wet with the memory, and I knew that if I tried touching myself, I would feel twinges from where he’d ruthlessly fingered me.

It was so… intense. Just like Marcus himself. He’d always been like that—dark, brooding, passionate. That much hadn’t changed in the years. If anything, he’d lost his vulnerability. A knife twisted in my chest at the thought that I was partly responsible for that.

I busied myself for the rest of the weekend with housework. Cleaning my parents’ house took longer than the rented condo I lived in before, but not long enough to fully distract me. Sunday afternoon I decided to get lost in a novel on my “to be read” pile. At one point I put down the cozy mystery to have a nap on the couch, and the sun streaming through the window lulled me to sleep like a cat. It was dark when I woke, and I felt a little more refreshed.

No word from Marcus. But what had I expected? As far as I knew, he didn’t have my phone number either. I was annoyed with myself for being disappointed by not hearing from him. When the irritation faded, it left insecurity and paranoia in its place.

Maybe he’d just gone home, wherever home was. Maybe I’d never hear from him. Maybe I’d never meet him again. Maybe he regretted ever seeing me, touching me. Maybe he was somewhere, bragging to his friends about how he got back at the bitchy cheerleader…

Oh god. You can take the girl out of high school, but you can’t take the high school out of the girl.

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