Chapter 3
Chapter Three
B linding white light shone behind my eyes, turning my world from dark and comfortable to bright and painful.
“Oh my god,” I groaned. My mouth felt like I’d slept with cotton in it and my eyes seemed glued shut.
I flopped over onto my front to bury my face in the pillow and hide from the light. I realized my mistake when the world spun, and my stomach heaved.
I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, passing a towel-wrapped Frankie to dive for the toilet.
“Whoa!” She backed to the edge of the hall as I passed and then peeked into the bathroom while I heaved. “Fun night?” I didn’t even have the brainpower to process the teasing note in her voice before I face-planted onto the tile floor, looking for a cool surface to stabilize me.
“Apparently,” I said around the bile flavored sand coating my mouth. There were faint traces of maraschino cherries on my lips, and fuzzy memories of ordering cherry martinis after last night’s failed date flitted in and out of my foggy brain.
“Drink water. Put a little salt in it and when you’re ready, eat some eggs—with more salt.” She rattled this off like a hangover pro, though I rarely saw her drink in all the years we’ve lived together.
I still couldn’t quite lift my head, so I just gave her a thumbs up and spread out further on the cool tile floor.
“Turn the light off.”
“Sorry hon, but that ‘light’ is the sun and last I checked, I could not turn it off. At least, not without risking killing everyone and everything.” She still stood, leaning against the doorjamb, with her towel wrapped around her, water dripping on the floor.
“That would be ok.”
She just laughed, the sound too loud and grating on my poor, abused body.
“Come on sleepyhead, you’ll feel better when you get some water.”
“You’re the devil.” I stood and followed her laughter to the kitchen, though. Hopefully, she proved right, and water would help. Anything to end this misery.
She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and handed it to me, which was… weird. I looked at her again. She bit her lips, her eyes sparkling with laughter, though I didn’t know why she held back since she’d already laughed at me this morning.
“What is it?” I tried to run my fingers through my hair and caught on the tangled, matted curls. My dress from last night sat crooked on me, showing more to Frankie than I’d usually be comfortable with, but I didn’t have it in me to care right now .
“Just get your water.”
“Ok.” I didn’t have the energy to figure out this game. My headache worsened by the minute and at the mention of water, my body remembered it had needs and my throat felt drier than ever.
Frankie snorted once behind me while I filled my water, my forehead resting on the cool stainless steel of the fridge.
“Just tell me,” I said.
“The note by the dispenser.”
“What?” I lifted my head and sure enough, some of my bright pink note paper stuck out from behind a hamburger magnet Frankie bought for me the last time she visited Nevada.
Today was not the day for a joke, but I pulled it out anyway.
My handwriting stared back up at me, but no matter how much I blinked, I couldn’t bring it into focus.
I gulped down some water, and salt hit my tongue. Frankie must have put some in while I stared at the paper. The water felt like a godsend to my parched body, and I tilted my head back in relief as I felt the cool water move to my empty stomach.
I wanted to guzzle it, but I worried I wouldn’t be able to keep it down if I did. One more sip and then I tried reading the note I left for myself last night.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Frankie burst out laughing behind me and I spun toward her. Whoa, not ready for that.
“What the hell is this?” I thrust the note at her.
“A note from yourself to ask Duke for sex, apparently,” she said between hiccupping giggles. She bent double from laughter, the towel making a valiant effort to stay tied. I didn’t even realize people actually did that .
“This is not funny.”
“It’s hilarious. Please tell me you remember writing that?” She leaned back against the counter, fixing her towel, a smile still stretched across her face.
“No! When did I write this? Why did I write this?” Vague flashes of Duke at the restaurant came to me.
“Oh god. Please tell me you’re the one that picked me up last night.” Mortification washed through me at the thought that it wasn’t Frankie that gave me a ride like we had planned.
“Nope. Got a phone call while I drove back last night to get you. Duke said he was taking you home.” She adjusted her towel again and sat across from me at the small dining table. “Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know anything!” Another memory swam to the surface. Duke in the moonlight with his arms around me. “Wait. I think I remember him. Oh my god. I think I’m going to be sick again.”
I slumped in the dining room chair, the tall back of it digging into my lifeless harm, the note heavy in my limp hand.
“Just don’t vomit on the carpet,” Frankie called as she walked to her room, leaving me to my misery.
What the hell happened last night?
Duke was probably the only person who knew, and I didn’t think I could face him.
I drank the rest of my water and then crawled back into bed. Drunk sleep left me more tired than before, and I still felt like I had been hit by a truck.
Unlike the black void from before, Duke invaded my dreams with his warm hands, soft lips, and devilishly good looks. I woke up aching for something I’ve dreamed of having for so long, but that seemed further out of reach than ever before.
Unless…
I closed my eyes as I stood under the warm spray of the shower I stumbled to, trying to wash away the night. Duke stood behind me in the close shower, the warmth of his body pressed against me and his soapy hands splayed across my back, slowly moving forward until he held my waist.
“Tell me you want this,” he would say as his hands slowly worked up to my breasts, the soap providing a smooth glide until he reached them, cupping them gently and simply holding them… waiting for my answer.
“Yes,” I breathed into the steam as a shudder worked through me.
My own hands followed the path of my imagination, holding myself up for him.
I clenched down on nothing, spasms racking my core as I pictured him leaning into me, his hard length pressing against me, demanding my full attention, robbing me of sense.
“Good,” he said, low and gruff, just as his lips brushed over my shoulder.
Water cascaded over me—us—as I went boneless, giving into the pleasure of my dreams.
This isn’t real , my brain whispered to me before I could even touch myself, and the image, the feeling, disappeared.
“Dammit.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, the heat and steam and disappointment stealing my breath from me, making the world just a little darker.
Did I… did I actually want this?
“Ask me again when you’re sober.” I couldn’t remember much of last night, but I could picture this. It’s exactly what he would say, and I would write that note to remember, because I did want it. I wanted pleasure, and Duke… Duke was known for pleasure .
My body betrayed me at the preposterous idea. My clit pulsed lightly, begging for his touch.
Shit.
Feeling out of sorts, defeated, and restless, I ended my shower and sought the one thing that never failed to help—books.
I shed my towel and pulled on an old worn Marine Corps shirt. Duke gave me it so I wouldn’t stain my clothing in a spaghetti eating contest we’d had at the housewarming party he had thrown when he moved into the penthouse he lived in now.
I’d shown up uncertain and dressed in my best, thinking it would be an elaborate party.
I’d drug Frankie along to keep me company and drive me home early if it became overwhelming.
I was surprised when I showed up. The only guests were Duke’s marine brothers, a new guy I’d never met and two other women, Grace and Jessica, all casually hanging out.
Somehow, that made me more uncomfortable than the party I thought it would be. Duke proved to me why he held the position of my favorite person when he pulled me aside without a word and threw me a shirt and sweats, so I would be comfortable.
The shirt had stains I couldn’t ever get out and he insisted it belonged to me now, anyway.
I ripped the shirt off and threw it to the side. Nope. That wasn’t going to help. I picked a neutral shirt and then nudged the tea cups littering my nightstand out of the way to look at the books piled there for something good.
Duke’s Wallflower
Taming the Wild Duke
The Damned Duke
Oh. My. God .
What was wrong with me that this is all I had right now? I searched through my list looking for something not about a Duke, a lord, a billionaire, or a Marine… and nothing.
“God dammit.” I threw my reader across the room and went through the piles of books stacked on every surface.
“Here we go.” I picked up one with a bright cover, the colors splashing across the front highlighting a dark figure on the cover with horns and a tail. “Aliens.”
That would be safe.
“One month,” Gloorick said as he traced his tail up the inside of her thigh, petting lightly, bypassing the one place she wanted to feel him most. “You give me one month, and in exchange, you’ll get all the coin you could want.”
“Yes,” she gasped as his tail parted her lips and settled just over her most private part.
She knew she shouldn’t. She’d been spurning his advances for months now.
How could she accept him when she could never give all of herself to him?
One month with him, and then she could walk away.
She would get the money to buy her freedom and then…
then she didn’t know. She couldn’t think that far ahead. One month.
I’d read this one before and knew exactly how it ended. Love. True love. That’s how it always went.
It wasn’t real life, but that’s what made it perfect.
An idea came to me, outrageous and insane, but desperation drove me, and books always held the right answer. Maybe… maybe I could make it work .
I picked up my phone and messaged Duke for the first time since my drunken antics.
lily
come over
duke
now?
If I said ‘yes,’ I know he would, and that’s why this would work. I was sure of it.
lily
whenever you can
duke
I’ll come by after work is everything ok?
lily
can’t a girl just want some time with her best friend?
duke
brat I’ll come over later