The Revenge Games Duet - Page 23

Cheers,

Nina

P.S. I spoke to Wesley this morning. He’s been trying to call you.

The temptation to chuck my iPad across the room crossed my mind. But I’m done throwing my expensive electronics because of what he’s done.

Two million dollars?

Fuck! Money we worked hard for, down the fucking drain. I don’t even want to think about how that affects our investments, it’s the last thing on my mind right now.

I can tell by Nina’s tone she hasn’t slept. Probably the biggest scandal to rock her portfolio since one of her clients impregnated some illegal immigrant who babysat his kids.

My head falls back on the headboard. I have two choices here—one, l work with Nina and fix this fucking mess or two, bury my head in the sand like an ostrich.

There were so many things to think about, but my head’s aching and my stomach begins to growl. To be honest, I’m surprised I even have an appetit

e given the amount of alcohol pumping through my bloodstream.

I climb out of bed knowing there’s no way I can continue to sit here and do nothing. If I sneak downstairs now, I can possibly avoid Logan. I didn’t even ask where he, Ash, or Alessandra were staying because I was too caught up in my own mess to think about any of it. I assume they’re staying here and that thought makes me want to retreat back to bed.

There’s no chance in hell I can look at Logan again. We can also kiss our friendship goodbye. Last night was many things, and regret is one of them.

As I step into the bathroom, I strip down to nothing and stare at myself in the mirror. The reflection shows my pale skin, a few scratches on my leg from the random creature who attacked it. I run my fingers along my collarbone and notice a small bite mark on the top of my shoulder. The tips of my fingers run over the minor groove and my senses heighten. His teeth had bitten so hard it’s left a small, purplish mark against my pale skin.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the throb between my legs which is persistent and ravenous. How did I let this happen? Was this a pity fuck? It wasn’t even a fuck, merely a finger fuck for God’s sake.

Jesus! I got off on one finger.

Opening my eyes quickly, I twist my body and turn the faucet allowing only cold water. I need to wash this away. The hurt, guilt, and desire for someone who should never ever be in my thoughts.

Logan Carrington? What the fuck were you thinking!

I linger in the cold shower blissfully unaware of my surroundings until I hear the lawnmower outside. Wow! Dad’s really pulling out all the stops. Quickly getting out, I dry myself and dress in my denim shorts and a white tank with a unicorn on the front. I purposely wear my bikini underneath, hoping to catch some rays later when everyone’s gone.

When Logan is gone... that’s what you mean.

My hair is wet and tangled, which I manage to brush and tie up into a bun. I had it cut recently to the length of my collarbone, something Wes hates because he loves long hair.

Before I leave the bathroom, I pick up my damp and reeking of lake water clothes from last night. Throwing them into the basin, I run the water allowing the dress to soak before handwashing out the grime. Poor kitties. Their faces look sad and riddled with guilt.

Taking a deep breath, I walk to the door and place my hand on the handle. I haven’t thought about what I’ll say if I see him. It’s only 7:05 a.m. and the boys train every morning for two hours. They won’t be home until eight. That gives me forty-five minutes to grab breakfast then find somewhere to hide. So much for not being an ostrich.

I make my way to the kitchen. Only Mom is inside, sipping coffee and reading some book with a chick on the front titled Hooker.

Great, nice reminder of your cheating fiancé.

“Thinking of switching professions?” I tease, sitting on the stool facing her. When my ass touches the hard wood I’m quick to flinch, uncomfortable and sore.

Don’t go there. Not in front of Mom.

What if she can hear your thoughts? She will forever judge you for what you’ve allowed him to do.

Mom places the book on the table, careful to keep her bookmark in place. She’s dressed in a light blue buttoned shirt and white tennis shorts, her hair is swept back into a tight ponytail. “Good morning.” She smiles, sliding the box of cereal my way and follows with a cup of black coffee just the way I like it. “You got home late last night. I’m guessing you crawled home considering the dark circles around your eyes?”

I nod, lips pursed with my hands wrapped around the warm mug.

“I see nothing much has changed with the three of you. Instead of staying out and sneaking in candy, you’ve swapped it for rounds of alcohol.”

Tags: Kat T. Masen Romance
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