The Storm In Their Hearts - Aching Hearts Series #3

I Hate You

Brief, but necessarily a stand alone :P

CHAPTER 11 - I HATE YOU

When my eyes opened, the first thing I felt was the soreness of my bones. I was barely able to stretch. Well, that was mostly because there was a heavy weight behind me, spooning me. I smiled when I recalled what we did last night, and that that could only be Byron.

His muscled arm was draped over me, and he held me so close to him that I could feel not only his chest, but also the steady beat of his heart against my back, and I won't deny it felt nice. 

I mean, the last time I had sex with someone and we actually slept together was years ago. With ... Tom, obviously. 

I mean, as soon as we're over, I slip out of Jerkface's bed while he watches me with that grin that's so typical of a man whose needs have just been satisfied, cuddling closely, spooning me like Byron was doing and did all night would never even cross Jerkface's mind, I think he's actually pretty happy when I leave.

Now, Byron's grip on me was pretty tight, and he was pretty heavy, therefore moving wasn't easy, so I settled for just glancing over at his nightstand to see what time was it. 7.45 am. I ought to be at work by 9 am, which is when both Mr. and Mrs. Coleman leave for their respective jobs, leaving 4-years-old Jackson with me.

Starting from this week I'll also cover more shifts at the ice cream parlor, seeing as the other girl left, and I offered, just to get some extra money, and given what I did last night and how sore I am, I wonder how will I able to stand today. Hopefully Jackson was worn out by the weekend with his cousins, so he'll be calm, opposite to the usual.

Slowly, I started moving, trying to sneak out of bed without waking Byron, and after something like ... 20 attempts, I made it. My ... my bones were so crispy when I stretched. But recalling that the sex god now sleeping peacefully had me pass out for the intensity of the orgasm only brought a naughtily satisfied, happy smile on my face. I guess there is a good competitor for Jerkface.

Not that Al is bad, hell, no, he's freaking good too, but ... had I to make a chart, I'd say he comes third, while the other two kind of even out each other, maybe Byron wins on intensity, while Jerkface wins on number. 

Either way, all three of them are more than up to the expectations. I'm afraid poor Rebecca will barely be able to move after a night with all three of them together. Somehow that's no deterrent. If anything, it only makes me more eager.

Seeing as I'd discarded my blouse in the living room, I grabbed one of Byron's t-shirts from his wardrobe, and that was enough to cover me till my knees. No surprise, he's so massive compared to me. I grabbed my panties and shorts, and got ready for the walk of shame towards my bedroom. Hopefully the other two weren't awake yet.

Of course, luck wasn't on my side. Because when I had the brilliant idea of slipping into the kitchen to grab some water - my throat was so dry, I felt like I'd been in a desert for weeks – I found the familiar sight of a dark-haired head focused on the stoves. Of course, how could I forget? He wakes up before all of us every morning to cook breakfast.

Trying to be nonchalant, despite my predicament, I cleared my throat, and greeted: "Good morning, Will." I even tried a small smile. He only grunted in response, of course. I swear, I don't even know why do I bother this much. 

Why do I even try to be kind with him? He's done nothing but treat me like garbage ever since I came here, the sole moments he's appreciative is when we're in bed. I should probably quit giving in. Be it only for a matter of pride. 

Then I think of how damn good he is, and of the eventuality of all four of us together and ... meh, I can put up with his moronic attitude for the sake of great sex.