I’d fucked her so hard the night before, she’d cried in my arms until she fell asleep.
Avery had confessed some deep shit to ‘Michael’. To be honest, I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. Ineededher to know it was me, needed to see the shock in her eyes, needed her to realize onlyIcould make her feel satisfied and indulge her darkest fantasies.
She’d need time to accept it was me, sure, but it wouldn’t take her long to admit we were made for each other.
I felt her before I saw her, my pulse quickening and skin heating in response. Her soft footsteps were unmistakable. It was a sound I’d always recognize, just like her breathy little moans.
She padded into the kitchen, hair in a messy bun, shoulder peeking out from the oversized lavender tee, legs bare.
I wanted to eatherfor breakfast. I wanted to throw her on the counter and start our morning in pure bliss.
She was facing away from me, unaware she wasn’t alone. Her ass swayed as she hummed to herself, tempting me, practically begging for me to grab it. Once her coffee was made, she turned and stopped short.
Most would’ve been offended or upset at the flicker of disgust that flashed across Avery’s face, but I loved it. It meant she saw me, and even though her eyes were full of hatred, they also held a fierceness I was hooked on.
My fierce little kitty.
Iintentionally woke up before sunrise to enjoy the quiet.
Alone.
But then, I sawhim. The fucking bane of my existence.
I hated the way Rowen’s eyes roamed over me with concern, like he was checking on me, even though there was no way he actually cared. It had to be another way for him to get under my skin.
Regardless, it wasn’t like I was going to tell him a masked man crawled through my window last night, split me open, and made me come so hard as he fucked my ass that I cried and released all my pent-up emotions.
It probably scared Michael off. No way he wanted a woman who cried herself to sleep after having sex. He probably thought I was a lunatic now.
Rowen walked over to where I was, pinning me against the counter, reaching for a mug from the cabinet above my head.
“Why the fuck are you up so early?” I spat.
He stopped his motion, eyes flicking to mine, and smirked. “Good morning to you too.”
His cheery, sarcastic tone was like nails on a chalkboard. His arrogant attitude made me want to punch his stupid face.
I hated how comfortable he seemed around me, in my house, like we were actually family, a close sibling duo.
“You know the worst part about living in this house right now?”
He was still close to me, too close. I tried to slide sideways, away from him, but he put his arm down on the edge of the counter, trapping me.
“Let me guess. Me?”
Smug fucker.
I fought the urge to put my hands on his chest and shove him, but I remained stoic, unbothered.
“Realizing I have to breathe the same air as you,” I bit back at him.
His amused smirk widened. “You could always hold your breath when I walk into the room if I disgust you that much.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I just wish you’d stop coming back here. Then, I wouldn’t even have to bother hating you.”
His eyes, his smirk, the smugness, it all flickered for a split second before slipping back into place, and it stunned me.
“You don’t mean that,sis.” He finally grabbed his mug and backed away, allowing me to slide to the side.
