Page 44 of Their Broken Legend

She’s a liar.

And you told her as much!

Fuckhead.

Don’t think about her.

She’ll fucking destroy me.

From the moment I saw her again—the memory of the first incident completely absent—she has been all about taking what she wants. I thought she was worldly, experienced, adventurous, and— Not a virgin. I would have never guessed she was a fucking virgin.

The image of Grayson’s smirk, his lips glistening from her pussy, carves into my brain, making the ice pack in my hand bleed with water under the pressure of my white-knuckled grasp.

I want to rip the echo of her from his mind, beat him until that part of his brain flickers out, and the memory of her juicy pussy and the smell of her sweat vanishes.

Don’t think about her!

I’ve never cared about sharing a chick before this… before her. I fuck experienced girls who like it rough and hard and dirty and leave me the hell alone afterwards. Because I don’t get attached, because they aren’tmine. I don’t care what they do or who they do it with.

But she isn’t experienced.

She could be mine.

And I care.

Can’t stop thinking about her.

This is dangerous. I never wanted the intensity of love because I knew I’d fucking struggle with it. Obsess over it. Drown in it. Bury myself in it.

My father’s love for another woman destroyed my mother, fuelled her hatred for me and my brothers, and ruined our childhood. I saw her pain in every action.

I never want that kind of love.

My eyes scroll the bar, landing on a man leaning over the wooden top, beckoning the staff. He’s around Kaya’s age. He could have licked her. She likes to get off.

To use men.

She could have used him.

My brows knot tightly, the tension of my frown, of the punch, of the headache that is Kaya Lovit, a throb in my temple. And Grayson’s words taunt me to its blunt tempo:“I have her pussy all over my lips.”

The water from the pack rushes down my face as more leaks from it within my fist.

Absently, I lift my beer, and Stacey starts talking about the fight this weekend. “You should back out, Xander.”

Her words are quiet.

She is far away, but she is right there. I’m in a tunnel, my eyes on this dickhead bothering the barmaid—and accompanied by Grayson’s words.“I’m good with licking pussy! But she’s impossible to plea—"

The image of Kaya’s naked spine darkens my vision, and now I see Grayson knelt behind her. The way her smooth skin curves around that elegant as fuck frame of hers. The perfect amount of fat on her thighs, on her hips. So fragile. So feisty. So soft. My cock gets hard to the reverie, and I don’t even care as I consider beating one out in the toilet.

I clench my teeth until they ache.

In my mind, Grayson flips her over and then it’s not Grayson, it’s the unruly dipshit across the bar.

He bothers me.

Kaya’s breasts meet the pillow, her mouth opens, panting, her pussy exposed to him like an offering just for him. She chose him, and I’m losing my fucking bearing with reality and the present and— She’s going to choose someone one day.

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