Page 72 of Broken Promises

If I wanted company, I had to get over it, so I headed to the bedroom to grab a hoodie, my eyes landing on the messy bed. My muscles ached at the memory of Ander and Zavier making me come over and over, and I couldn’t help but smile a little.

I barely remembered half of it, I’d practically blacked out from the pleasure, and Zavier had needed to help me shower this morning since my limbs wouldn’t work properly.

Eyeing Ander’s drawers across the room, I moved towards them and slid them open to find a hoodie, pulling one out that I’d seen him wear a lot of times. It smelled like him, and that stupid girly feeling washed over me as I pulled it over my head and let it hang off my small frame.

It was a little larger than the guys’ hoodies since he hadn’t been starved most of his life, and I felt tiny in it.

I loved it.

Once I had my shoes on and had tied my hair into a messy ponytail, Ander walked in and did a double take. I hadn’t thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me wearing his clothes, and I cringed.

“Sorry. I’ll take it off.”

“I like you wearing it,” he said slowly as if it confused him. “You should take photos in it and send it to the guys so they know I own your ass. Better yet, post it on your social media so everyone knows.”

I snorted, knowing he was joking. “Don’t taunt them. I don’t have apps on my phone anyway.”

“You don’t?”

“My phone’s too old,” I shrugged, holding up the extremely outdated device.

“That belongs in the museum,” he scoffed. “I’m buying you a new one.”

“Um, no, you’re not. I like my phone,” I argued, holding it to my chest as if he was going to snatch it away from me.

“Keep it for all I care, but you need a new one. You can’t even google your location if you get lost somewhere,” he said seriously.

“I don’t?—”

“Next time we go shopping, you’re getting one. End of story,” he said as he cut me off. “Where am I taking you? Beckett’s?”

Arguing was pointless since we weren’t going shopping today, so I sighed. “The Psychos Shed.”

“You hate that place.”

“I know, Beckett doesn’t care,” I deadpanned, following him from the room as he grabbed his keys.

Once in the car, he gave me a serious look. “Now, I know my car turns you on, but we don’t have time for a quickie today. I’m really sorry.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

He smirked but didn’t say anything as he started backing out of the garage, heading towards Ashburn Valley.

My knee bounced nervously the closer we got to the Shed, and I could feel Ander’s eyes on me every so often.

Would the Psychos be hostile towards Ander when we arrived? I should’ve gotten him to drop me off down the road and walked the rest of the way.

I went to bail the second he stopped in front of the Shed, but his hand darted out to snag my wrist.

“I know you’re safe with Beckett, but call me if you need me,” he said firmly, scowling when I ignored him and tried to pull back. “Your hot and cold bullshit isn’t cute. I get it, you’re processing last night, but don’t shut me out over it.”

“You know I hate being manhandled. Let me go,” I growled, hating how my stomach tightened with anticipation as he released my wrist and grabbed my throat instead.

“You say you hate it, but it soaks your panties every time I do it,” he said in a low voice, leaning forward to nip my lower lip. “Enjoy girl time with Donovan, Bluebird.”

He kissed me and I kissed him back, some of the nerves simmering. It was dangerous how much I was relying on him.

I’d relied solely on the guys my entire life, and look how that had turned out?

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