Page 31 of Blood

“Mothertrucker!” I burst upright in bed and flick my gaze toward where Alex stands beside my queen-size bed. His expression is devoid of any emotion—an impenetrable mask of absolute assery.

Get it? Ass-ery?

I crack myself up sometimes.

I glare at him and attempt to run my fingers through my snarled hair. I didn’t shower before I collapsed into bed, so I probably resemble a Barbie doll that’s been tossed off a cliff, run over by two consecutive semitrucks, lit on fire, and then thrown into a meat grinder.

“Why the fuck did you hit me with a pillow?” I demand when it’s apparent Alex isn’t going to say anything. I can’t help but note he wears a skin-tight black T-shirt that clings to his muscular physique and accentuates the tattoos on his arms. He’s still dressed in his sleep shorts, so the final result is a sexy, rumpled, sleepy Alex that definitely shouldn’t make my heart race as fast as it does.

No, siree.

A scowl twists Alex’s lips as he continues to glare down at me. “You were moaning. Rather obscenely, if you ask me.”

Heat floods my body almost instantaneously.

Barret...

Vin...

My pussy instinctively clenches around nothing but air. I swear I can feel Barret pistoning in and out of me as I rubbed Vin’s hard, long cock...

I clear my throat and, once again, attempt to tame the disheveled mess that is my hair. I’m desperate to do something besides sit here and gawk.

“I was having a nightmare,” I lie smoothly.

“You were screaming, ‘Barret, oh Barret, fuck me harder, Barret. I love your huge dick inside my pussy!’” Alex raises his voice in a piss poor impersonation of my own.

I think back to the dream and definitely don’t remember screaming those explicit words.

“Maybe you heard me wrong. Maybe I said... ‘Tarot, oh Tarot, show me my future, Tarot. I love your huge mick because you’re a wussy.’”

Nailed it.

Alex folds his arms over his chest and scowls.

“And then you said, ‘I love the way your asshole clenches around my cock, Vin. I wish I could actually feel it.’”

I wince imperceptibly, even as my pussy begins to spasm. Because...yup. I’m horny as hell right now.

“Maybe you were dreaming of me?” I suggest with a sheepish shrug.

Honestly, I don’t remember saying any of those words, but there’s a chance that dream Violet behaved differently from real Violet.

Talk about awkward.

Alex dips his chin to my chest, and I follow the direction of his gaze with a curse. How did I not feel the breeze against my bare tit?

“Where did you come from, little guy?” I murmur to my boob in surprise.

“You started plucking your nipples and screaming your release,” Alex deadpans.

“Oh.”

I shift uncomfortably on the bed as I attempt to wrangle my breast back into my shirt and bra. It’s only as I’m straightening my clothing that I realize...Alex didn’t wake me until just now.

If what he said is true, then I was a writhing, moaning mess on the bed. Instead of immediately shaking me awake, Alex watched long enough to witness me scream my mates’ names and play with my tit. Only after I orgasmed in my dream and in real life did he deem it necessary to whack me awake.

I drop my eyes to his shorts, noticing something that evaded me during my first perusal of him.

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