8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
C assie
Stupid. Crazy. Slut.
My father’s voice echoed in my head as I sank down on the bed in Marcus’ bedroom. He’d said those words to me and my mother daily. Maybe he was right. What the hell had happened to me a few minutes ago?
You’re just like your mother. There was my father’s menacing voice again. No! I forced the voice away. I was not like my mother. I would never be like her. But the fear remained inside me, eating slowly at my confidence.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander back to what had happened downstairs. What kind of game was Marcus playing? Or was he? Consenting adults learning about each other, exploring each other, enjoying themselves—that’s what he’d said.
I didn’t want him to learn about my past. I could handle the exploring and enjoyment, and that was it. Sex, pure and simple, was the best way to silence the voices in my head. My heart fluttered.
Marcus wanted to know what made me tick. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. This weekend was simply to get Marcus out of my system so I could move on. That’s what we agreed to, and I was going to hold him to that agreement.
Surging to my feet, I crossed the room. A shower would make me feel better, so I stepped into the bathroom and undressed. I turned, slid the shower door open, and stopped. This wasn’t a shower; it was a lavish paradise.
He had not one, but three different shower heads. Two hand-held and one rain water type. I flipped the handle, and water came out of the big hand-held. I pinned my hair up and checked the water temperature before stepping inside.
The warmth surrounded me, and my shoulders relaxed. I needed this. I was so keyed up. Was this weekend with Marcus really going to be that bad? I grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squirted some in my hand.
No, I would make the best of this weekend—as much as I could. It was a few days and then Marcus and I would be over. I slid my soapy hands over my body. My nipples perked up. What would his touch be like?
Soft or firm? I pinched my nipple, sending a zing of arousal to my clit. Yeah, that was it. He’d be both soft and firm. I moved my hands down over my belly, to the top of my mound.
I shifted my feet as I dipped a finger between my labia. I gently caressed my clit before slipping a finger in my pussy. I closed my eyes as I stroked myself. How long had it been since I pleasured myself? A while.
Maybe that’s why I was primed and ready. I slipped a second finger inside myself, stroking slowly. Would Marcus go slow or fast? My eyes opened. Enough.
This wasn’t the time to fantasize. Later, once this weekend ended. Right now, I needed to be ready for Marcus. To shore up my shields, so to speak. The man wouldn’t know what hit him. Because I was going to be in control.
Shutting the shower off, I stepped out and wrapped my body in a soft white towel. I wouldn’t be caught in a towel. Nope. My defenses were coming back online. I’d show him who he was dealing with.