Page 20 of Brooklyn Bratva

I lay in bed for a few minutes, making sure I couldn’t hear Mrs. K bustling around in the kitchen, glad I’d set my alarm a whole hour earlier, even if actually getting out of bed wasn’t all that appealing.

With a deep breath, I threw off the covers and changed my Minnie Mouse sleep shirt for my running gear – sports bra, three-quarter length leggings and a tank top, as well as a zip-front hoodie to keep me warm before I got there on my own. But I was planning on getting sweaty pretty quickly.

The whole day traveling, followed by all the food Mrs. K had been laying on, and a shift at the clinic stretching out ahead of me that I knew would mostly be standing around trying to pick up the ropes, was making me feel stuck and heavy.

It wasn’t long before Ivan would be here to take me to work, like his mother had instructed and I needed to burn off some energy first.

It felt ridiculous that she’d demanded he turn up to chaperone me, even though I knew I could walk to the place in less than fifteen minutes. Still, I was glad she had. Any excuse to spend time with Ivan was a good thing.

I needed to move. Get the blood pumping. Make my body work. I’d feel better once I shook off this fatigue.

Pulling on my running shoes, I stepped into the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as possible flushing the toilet and splashing water on my face to wake me up.

I twisted my curls up into a high ponytail and double-checked I had the door key on me, as well as my headphones and music player and then I was out the front door quietly with barely a glance around the rest of the darkened apartment. I still felt very much like a guest, even in my bedroom.

When I got back, I’d unpack properly and start making myself at home.

I ran towards Coney Island, taking in the flat sea and the pale sky, picking up the pace as my feet hit the boards more fluidly with every step. The large expanse of open water and the sky above that mirrored it always made me feel like I was looking into infinity. I loved the hugeness of it. Loved that I could see all the way to the horizon.

At this time of the morning, the boardwalk was mostly empty. High above me, gulls were circling, and I wasn’t the only jogger. One woman had about five dogs twined about her legs on string like leads and I laughed as I watched her try to negotiate them while she kept pace.

When I got close enough to the twining loops of the rollercoasters of Coney Island to see the entrance signs, I dropped down onto the beach and turned around to come back, pushing myself to run through the fine, shifting sand.

The best workout you could ever get was when the ground moved under every step you took, and I was dripping with sweat by the time I collapsed into the elevator back up to Mrs. K’s apartment.

I’d long since pulled my hoodie off and it was tied tight around my waist. My white tank top was clinging to me, see-through in long, wide streaks along my back and between my breasts. My leggings were sticking to me uncomfortably and little grains of sand had glued themselves to my skin.

I was breathing hard and my face was bright red, but I didn’t care. I felt alive, and once I’d had a shower I was going to feel amazing.

I opened the door of the apartment and came face to face with a very bare, very broad chest.

I screamed before my brain kicked in, and recognition hit me.

Ivan’s hand closed over my mouth, stemming the sound and pushing the front door closed behind me.

I tugged at his hand, pulling it away from my face so I could rasp in another gasp of air.

“What the hell are you doing here? You scared me half to death!”

I had to be hallucinating. Or maybe I was still dreaming. In no universe did it make sense for Ivan to be standing there mostly naked. My eyes tracked down his chest to his lower half, and refused to move from the generous bulge at the crotch of his pants. Who wandered around like that? It had to be illegal. He should write himself up a ticket for indecent exposure.

“I slept on the couch.”

“Oh.” Suddenly I was incredibly thankful I was already beet red, because the thought of him being only inches away when I touched myself, thinking about his hands on me instead made me want to crawl into a hole and die. I’d dreamt about impaling myself on the monster cock he had hidden beneath his pants, and the way it twitched under my gaze made me even hotter. I could see I wouldn’t be disappointed.

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