Page 39 of Shattered

I open it up, do a quick scan over the very few pictures in her profile to confirm it’s her, then click on the most recent one, which is from about six months ago. Obviously, she’s not very active on here, either.

Sienna sits with her childhood friend Sarah, wearing a yellow bikini beside a pool. Her face looks like the same Sienna I used to know, but older and with a tiny nose stud. Something stirs in my chest as I look at her smile, and I find I’m grateful that she looks to be doing well. I did unintentionally break her heart, after all.

My gaze travels down her body, noting how her figure has filled out, making her look more like a woman rather than a girl—a gorgeous woman with an incredibly sexy body and a belly ring. I can’t seem to stop looking at her, and my dick takes notice.

But then her final words to me trickle back into my thoughts, and I quickly exit out of her picture and throw my phone on the bed beside me.

It took me a while to move on from all that shit, and it’s why I’ve turned into such a loner these past couple of years. A loner can’t hurt anyone or be hurt.

My cock doesn’t seem to care about any of that, though, and the image of her wet skin glistening in the sun is now burned into my brain. Shit.

Though her bikini wasn’t indecent, it still left little to the imagination. She’s not sixteen anymore.

Removing my glasses, I rub a hand over my face.

Don’t do it.

I reach down and squeeze my cock through my pants.

Don’t you fucking do it.

Then I slide my hand into my sweats and grip the base, closing my eyes.

A soft feminine body floats into my imagination, with curves that lead to a round ass and small but perky tits, covered by triangular pieces of fabric. Long blonde hair flows over her shoulders, almost reaching the jewelry on her stomach.

Fuck it. It’s not like I’m ever going to see her again.

I push my sweats down a little with my free hand, making room to stroke myself.

The image of her in a bikini is so clear, and I can picture touching her warm and inviting skin, running my fingers over her breasts and down between her legs. I stroke faster, harder, letting myself become absorbed in the moment. My cock feels hot and heavy in my hand, begging for a release. I jerk myself until all my muscles tense, and I’m shooting cum onto my stomach and chest with a quiet groan.

My eyes fly open a second later, and I release my dick, my breaths still coming out fast. “Shit.” Guilt assaults me right away. I just jerked off to someone whose heart I broke, someone who probably still hates me—Jason’s little sister.

Blowing out a breath, I push up from the bed and get cleaned up. I need to forget I ever looked her up.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sienna

I watch from afar as the beautiful dark-haired woman leans in to hug him, all smiles and kindness, before taking the hand of the most adorable little boy I’ve ever seen and walking to her car.

Neilix stays leaning against the doorframe, the light from behind him leaving his face cast in shadows. Once they’ve driven away, he closes his front door. And that’s when I step out of my car into the evening light.

A swarm of bees invades my insides, causing my body to buzz with nerves. Each step toward his front door has my heart pounding harder, slamming against my ribs. I haven’t spoken to or seen him since that day he came to talk to Jason, and I had wished him luck before closing the door in his face. Gosh, I remember exactly how his face looked at that moment, and a wave of guilt pummels my chest.

Sucking in a deep breath, I hold it for a few seconds before blowing it out and lifting my hand to knock.

Neilix opens the door, already speaking. “Did he leave someth—”

Surprise.

Shock.

Confusion.

They all cross his face before a wary but blank expression remains. My heart hasn’t lessened its thumping, and I can hear it louder than anything else as I stare at the man before me. Neilix has changed over the past few years—no longer a teenager with innocence in his eyes. I should have expected it, but I find that the sight of him has my voice trapped somewhere in my throat.

Working in construction has made him thicker, harder, and more tanned. Muscles I don’t remember him having press against the fabric of his T-shirt, and my eyes linger for just a second.

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