Page 182 of Bratva's Vow
The fabric loosened, and my hands fell free. I barely had time to move before he was pulling me into his arms, wrapping himself around me like he could fuse us together if he held me tight enough.
He kissed my temple. My cheek. My jaw. My nose. Then everywhere again.
“I love you,” he said between kisses, like it was the only thing he could think to say. “I fucking love you.”
I melted against him, turning in his arms so I could press my face to his chest. “I know. I love you too.”
He held me until my heartbeat slowed. Until the post-high fog lifted and we were just two men tangled up in sheets.
Eventually, he stretched, bones cracking in that satisfyingly gross way. “Shower,” he muttered. “Today’s the day, remember?”
I groaned and nuzzled deeper into his chest. “Let’s just stay here. Forever. We’ll order food. Send smoke signals. Hide from society.”
Laughing, he rolled out of bed and stood at the edge with a grin that belonged on a billboard. His whole body belonged on a billboard. He was so fucking hot. He scrubbed one hand through his hair while he rubbed his abs with the other with exaggerated flair.
“I got more of a workout this past week than I’ve had in my entire life,” he announced proudly.
I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. “Are you calling me a Peloton?”
He caught the pillow and flung it back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Might as well. I ride you like one, and you love it.”
He bolted for the bathroom, and I scrambled off the bed after him, still laughing. “You’re disgusting!”
“And yet you keep spreading your legs for me,” he called back.
We showered fast—too many hands, not enough time—and yanked on our clothes. We’d spent almost two months in Pennsylvania due to my outpatient treatment. Since returning home, we’d been staying with Jess and her two men. Not because we had to, but because I felt weirdly nostalgic and wanted to be with everyone under one roof. Maxim had reluctantly agreed.
What greeted us in the kitchen was a wall of judgment. Jess sat at the counter, arms folded tight across her chest. Darius leaned back in his chair, looking like he was reconsidering his life choices. Nik, poor Nik, had the kind of thousand-yard stare people got from war zones or particularly bad Tinder dates.
Darius muttered, “They’re too loud.”
“We don’t need to know how deep Maxim is every damnnight,” Jess groaned.
“I’m traumatized.” Nik placed a hand over his heart. “I thought Wren was an innocent, but after this week, I’m billing Maxim for therapy.”
I froze in the doorway. “Oh my god,” I whispered, face burning, and clutched Maxim’s arm like it could shield me from the humiliation.
Maxim, on the other hand, puffed up like a peacock. His chest visibly swelled with pride as he towed me farther into the room, smug as hell. “Well, hello to you too,” he said like he was handing out souvenirs. “I trust your morning was as splendid as mine.”
Jess pointed a knife at us—well, at him. “You’ve got to move out.”
Maxim arched a brow. “Didn’t you invite us to stay with you? In fact, I had a beautiful five-star hotel booked, and as I can recall, you and Wren manipulated us into staying here.”
I held up both hands. “In my defense, I didn’t expect them to have a conference over our sex life.”
“You,” Nik said dramatically. “I thought you were the vanilla one. There’s no safe room in this apartment. No corner I can hide where I don’t hear ‘Yes, Maxim, harder, Maxim,wreck me, Maxim.’”
Darius shuddered. “I heard things I can’t un-hear. You two need to get a Scrabble board or Monopoly or some shit. No one should fuck as much as you two. There are three of us, and we don’t even fuck that much!”
Jess narrowed her eyes at me and shook her head in mock horror. “Wren, I underestimated you. All those times, you didn’t need my advice at all.”
I tried to hide behind Maxim, who still wore a big grin. “What do you say, Wren? Do we need to put on a show for them right here?”
“No!” we cried all at once.
Maxim took my arm. “Prudes. We’ll be out of your hair, looking at our new house. Come on, Wren. I’ll treat you to a filling breakfast.”
“If you ask me, I don’t think he needs anymore filling,” Jess muttered behind our backs.
