The V doesn't care. It just sits there, carved into me, a permanent reminder. My jaw tightens. I finally let my fingertips brush the edge of it. The touch sends a sharp sting through my skin, but I don't pull back. I trace the angle slowly, forcing myself to feel every centimeter.
If this is my reality now, I have to own it even if it kills me.
"Hotter than Wonder Woman," Brax's deep voice rumbles from the doorway.
I jump, jerking my hand away from my chest as my gaze snaps to his reflection behind me. "What are you doing here?"
His lips twitch. His eyes drift over my body. His voice grows lower. "Trying to decide if I like your ass or your tits better."
A laugh flies out of me.
He steps forward, kisses my forehead, and states, "I made breakfast. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go eat, Minx."
12
Brax
Pancakes are my favorite breakfast food. Anytime they're in front of me, I gobble them up so I can eat more. But today, I barely taste them.
Valentina's sitting in her red silk robe, legs crossed, and her hair pulled into a messy knot. Worse, every time I tell her a stupid joke, she laughs. Her face lights up, and the old her comes roaring back.
It's torture.
I should be dragging her back into bed, kissing and holding her until everytrace of last night fades out of her muscles and her mind.
So here I am, forcing myself to keep the mood light while she takes dainty bites of pancakes like the world didn't try to break her hours ago.
She takes a bite and groans. "Who knew pancakes could taste so good?"
"Me," I boast, puffing my chest out.
Her lips twitch. She pokes the stack of leftovers on the serving plate. "Youmade too many."
I stab another forkful. "Nah. You can never have enough pancakes."
She smirks. "You've eaten six."
"Are you counting my cakes?"
"Yep."
"Watching every bite that goes into my mouth?" I pin a heated look on her.
She blushes. Her gaze drops to my lips, but she catches herself. She sits straighter and shoves another forkful into her mouth. "Mmm."
I wait until she swallows, then I tug on her chair, pulling her closer to me.
"Whoa!" she laughs.
I hold a fork to her mouth. "This has the proper amount of butter and syrup." I lean into her ear. "It's like you. Sweet and creamy."
She takes a deep breath, pinning a hazy gaze on me.
I wiggle the fork in front of her, softly ordering, "Try it."
She opens her mouth.
A sharp knock erupts.
