Page 11 of Innocent Bratva Virgin

Much harder to do with brothers.

There was no rug. I didn’t bother with curtains because I was usually waking up around dawn anyway, and I had one cable in here to charge my phone. That was it. And speaking of it, the good old Samsung probably needed to be plugged in.

Leaning over, I grabbed the charger and pulled out my cell to plug it in. With the thing set for the evening, I scooted to the foot of my bed so that I could grab a book from the shelf. I wasn’t in the mood for pool with Abe, and I wasn’t leaving this room, so I’d throw myself into a classic.

I snaggedDraculaand brought it back to the bed, leaning against the wall and kicking off my shoes. It wasn’t long before sitting around in my jeans was too uncomfortable, and I stripped down to my boxers so I could just pass out when I got tired enough.

Horror was a go-to of mine, and I didn’t really care which author or type. Scary was scary, and that was really all I was looking for. I wasn’t here to read romances or bullshit stories about a family dog. I didn’t need a happily ever after. In fact, I hated them. Life didn’t give you that shit, and I didn’t want it in my fiction, either.

However, as the pages flew by, the story that usually entertained me, regardless of how many times I’d read it, wasn’t doing the trick anymore.

My brain kept circling back to what we’d talked about in that damn session.

Something happened when I was a kid.

Yeah, something had happened all right, and I saw visions of it every damn night. The screams and blood haunting me all these years later. Worse—or maybe thankfully; it was hard to tell—I could also remember my mother’s face as clear as day. She was beautiful, with soft brown hair and pale eyes that couldn’t decide on green or blue.

And I had loved her more than anything in this damned world.

So naturally, the world had seen fit to take her from me in the form of my father.Thanks, Universe. Get fucked.

I shoved the book away with a sigh, shuffling down in the bed so that I was lying on my back. The ceiling was nothing much to look at, and yet, I was staring at it again.

What in the absolute fuck is wrong with you?

That was a loaded question, of course. There was quite a lot wrong with me from an objective standpoint, but I wasn’t really concerned with what the shrink thought, or anyone else for that matter.

No, what was really plaguing me was that even after everything, after the memories of the past rushing up to the surface and threatening to choke me and the knowledge that there was absolutely zero chance that I was going back into that office and seeing Emory again, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Not for a single fucking second.

Every time I blinked, I saw her there—the swell of her hips, the way her warm tan skin glowed when I’d worshipped every inch of her, the way she tasted with her legs wrapped around my head.

My cock twitched beneath the fabric of my boxers, and I looked down at it with a sigh. As I quirked a brow, I shook my head.

I really don’t have time for you, asshole.

But I was already knee-deep in visions of Emory dancing in my head like fucking sugarplums. I could feel her beneath me, the curves of her breasts absolute perfection as I sheathed myself deep inside her pussy.

I twitched again, and a low groan escaped me. I was reaching down and pressing the heel of my hand to my erection before I could even process what I was doing. The pressure was enough to ache, but I needed it—cravedit.

I craved her, and it looked like there was no getting away from that fact right now.

“Ugh.” I buried my face in my other arm as I let out the low noise.

I do not have time for this.

But then Emory was asking me for more and more, begging me to fuck her inside my head, and I couldn’t turn off the vision that was playing on repeat.

It was broad fucking daylight outside, and it seemed odd to be thinking of her when there was still so much day left. But it was no use. I wasn’t snapping out of it anytime soon.

With much more effort than I cared to admit, I dragged myself off the bed and walked into the en-suite without turning on the lights.

There was a single window in the shower, but the room was mostly dark when I got inside, which was exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want to be doing what I was about to do with the sunlight streaming in.

At first, I half considered getting in the shower, but I didn’t. I just sank to the floor, resting against the same wall with my bedroom on the other side. I sat there, my legs splayed wide, and for several long moments, I didn’t move.

I wondered if the need to imagine her would fade and if the pictures in my head haunting me would get tired and fuck off for a while.

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