Vengeful Soul by Emma Creed
Idon’t know what time Brax came home last night but I find him fully clothed, laid out on the couch when I step out of the bedroom to make myself some breakfast. I clang some cutlery in the drawer and slam some cupboard doors to ensure that I disturb him, before figuring out how to use the ancient looking coffee machine. Then I stand over him with a hot steaming mug in my hand.
“Black coffee.” I place it down hard on the coffee table, and Brax moans as he shifts to sit up.
“What time is it?” he asks, rubbing his head like he’s in pain.
“Just gone 8.”
“I gotta take a shower.” Brax stands up and takes the mug with him as he moves toward the bathroom.
“You didn’t come to bed last night,” I blurt out weakly, clenching my palm for giving him the inclination that I actually care.
“I told you I was taking the sofa.” He doesn’t bother to turn around but I still need those answers, so against all my better judgment, I go after him.
“Why am I here?”
“You know why you’re fucking here, Gracie.”
“I don’t mean on the compound, I mean here, in your cabin.”
I use my body as a barrier between him and the bathroom door so he can’t get out of telling me. I want to see it in his eyes, I need to hear it in his voice. I want him to admit that he likes to keep me close, just as much as I like to be close.
“Because when I get given a job, I do it properly.” He stares back at me shielding his emotions. “You breaking the rules I lay out for you doesn’t make that easy,” he points out.
“And do you always punish with your cock?” I look down between us, remembering last night and the way he fucked my face against the truck. I’m a little disgusted at myself, not just for obeying his demand, but for actually enjoying it.
“You didn’t take it much like a punishment. In fact, if I recall…” Brax takes a step forward, closing the gap between us and pushing me into the doorframe, “…you enjoyed it.” His thumb slides over my bottom lip, and I watch his tongue wet his. If I had one wish, it would be not to desire him.
“We ain’t here to play house, Gracie. And I put my rules in place for a reason.”
“You know, you could try just asking me nicely. Calling something a rule will only make me want to break it,” I admit.
“I guess we’re both gonna have to learn some restraint.” His cold eyes scorch me as he releases me, and when I turn my body to follow him, I’m greeted with the back of the door.
I laugh, which considering my situation is ironic. I’m stuck in a compound with a bunch of criminals that seem to be my only hope at survival. My parents are dead, and the sultry biker who stole me from my home has me yearning over him like a needy teenager. The real joke in all of this is me.
I wait for Brax to come out of the bathroom before I head in there myself to take a shower. The tiles are still wet and I can’t help but wonder if he relieved some of his tension while he was in here. I’m about to give into willpower and release my own when a loud thud against the door pauses my hand from sliding between my legs.
“Gracie,” Brax’s rough, unforgiving voice accompanies another loud bang of his fist.
I jump out the shower and wrap a towel around my chest before I rip the door open.
Brax looks a little taken back when I snarl at him.
“I’m… um, heading out for a few hours, Prez wants to meet up with Lector and iron out what me and Jessie discussed.”
“You don’t have to explain shit to me, Brax. We ain’t here to play house,” I remind him, before slamming the door in his face, and I swear I hear the growl from the other side of it. I drop the towel and hop back in the shower to give Brax another of my orgasms, courtesy of my own fingertips.