Bend - Bromberg K. (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации .txt) 📗

I lick the tip of his fingers, tasting my own sweetness. He sticks them in farther, grinding his erection against my hips, and the pulsing between my legs is back. Just like that, I am ready again.

The laundry room light flicks on around the corner and he backs away, taking his hard dick and his fingers with him. My body feels cold and empty now that it’s alone again. My arms wrap around myself instinctively and hug.

A palm reaches across the space and cups my cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

I blush. After all that kinky stuff I just did, I blush at the word pretty.

“You don’t believe me?”

I shrug. “I don’t know,” I mumble truthfully. “I haven’t had a lot of feedback in that area.”

“But you have a mirror?” He laughs as he says it.

“Blonde hair, brown eyes, brown skin.”

He shoots me the dimples and my insides tumble around like I’m being tossed in a wave. “Your eyes aren’t brown, they’re amber. It’s striking to see them in the light of the setting sun. And your hair is streaked blonde from years on the sea. That gorgeous brown body is golden, like you own the definition of tanned. And you’re the perfect combination of hard and soft. Killer and lover. Sweet and deadly.” He reaches around and grabs my ass. “I’m gonna take that ass,” he whispers, making the wetness pool between my legs. “Next time, I’m gonna take your ass and your pussy.”

I swallow hard and stare at him, trying not to picture this right now. Because I’m so out of control, it scares me.

“When you’re ready, Harper. Come find me.”

And then he walks away and rounds the corner, calling out a, “What’s up, dude?” to the person grabbing their dry clothes in the laundry room.

Chapter Eleven

HARPER

The shadow catches my eye as I roll and I sit upright instantly, staring at the empty chair across the room.

Nothing.

I look over at the clock. It’s 3AM and I haven’t slept in two days. I haven’t left the apartment since my last encounter with James in the hallway. I haven’t eaten, or showered, or met the sun. I’ve simply… existed.

This guy. Never has anyone affected me like this. He’s all I think about. He seems so… familiar. And maybe it’s just because I’ve seen him out of the corner of my eye once or twice. He’s admitted to watching me. But that just doesn’t seem right.

There’s something else…

I kick off the light covers, get out of bed, and pad over to the kitchen where I’m keeping the pills. I’ve avoided them successfully these past two days, but I’ve had enough. It’s not safe to go without sleep. It messes with your brain. Makes you see shadows of beautiful men sitting in your living room while you sleep. It makes you wish for their cock down your throat.

Holy crap, I have problems.

I eat three pills, chase it with water, and then pad back over to my bed and lie down.

My heart and brain slow simultaneously. It’s a trick of my mind, I realize this. The drug takes a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in. But I slow anyway. And it’s welcome.

My eyelids droop, then close. My shoulders relax as I turn on my side and let out a long breath.

Some peace is all I want. Just some peace.

And my brother.

But he’s gone.

So I’ll have to settle for my fake sedative-induced peace.

The dawn erupts with a burst of orange across the water and the day begins just like any other. My feet are rocking with the waves, a gentle sway of balance I adapted to before I could walk. I was born on this ship. I drank my first milk on this ship. Crawled the deck, slept in a berth, and learned the fine art of getting wet on this ship.

And even though my childhood was perfect—sun, sand, tropical islands, snorkeling and diving, exotic food and people and destinations—it all ends today.

Today we are eighteen. We have never spent a night apart in our lives, but we may never spend another one together again.

Because by the time the sun sets… only one of us will be left.

I jolt awake, the tears still in my eyes. I hate that dream, I hate that dream. Why do I have to relive that day of all days?

Nick and I were entwined in the womb together, so tightly embraced we killed our mother during childbirth because we refused to let go. He was all I ever had that was truly mine. We were all either of us had.

I was always the trophy. Not a princess, no. Trophy. Promised to a Company associate when I was six. I was molded and fashioned into this perfect thing. Something to look at, to admire, but not something that was allowed to have her own opinions about how she wanted to live her life.

Or the man she would be forced to marry once she came of age.

The training was an indulgence. I could not survive those hours Nick went away each day to train, so they indulged me. Every few years some uptight nanny would insist young girls did not learn martial arts and spend their days spear-fishing and I’d have to throw a fit. But the Admiral always gave in. I’d like to think it was because he had a bit of guilt over selling me off to an associate when I was a child. But he’s told me more than once that he never regretted that decision.

My twin brother, Nick, never had things so easy. He was expected to contribute in a big way. Even though we had physical training together I was never allowed to go with him to do the jobs. And those started when we were still very young. You can convince almost anyone that a nine-year-old boy is innocent of just about anything.

Every time he left the ship I’d stand on the deck and look out across the sea. Watching for his return. It felt like… like I was holding my breath until I saw him again. Every time he left I cried out of fear. And every time he returned I cried from relief.

He was not supposed to tell me about the jobs. But we are twins. Not identical, but we see ourselves as one. Not two.

So of course, he told me everything. Not right after the job. The ship was never a safe place to pass secrets. But we were in port or anchored off some remote island almost as much as we were out to sea, so there was plenty of playtime on the reefs and in the tidal pools of random beaches.

Since we were so well-behaved we were left alone. The crew ignored us completely. Nick’s trainers only paid attention when they were around, and since playtime on the beach is not a function of grown men hired for security, they never saw us crawl around on the rocks, or shimmy up a palm tree to gossip about our lives under the long fan-like leaves. The Admiral’s gaze swept past every evening at dinner with a smug smile at our manners. He was never around. Our care was entrusted to others.

We were, for all practical purposes, ignored.

It took them many years to realize their mistake.

And even though I feel a lot of satisfaction from overthrowing the Company yacht crew and making my escape, I’d rather relive those moments out in the hallway when James had his hands between my legs instead of that last day on the yacht.

I turn over in bed, my mind still groggy from the pills, my body still seeking relief from the exhaustion that’s been creeping in since my first real orgasm.

If I could only release again. Maybe I could relax?

My hand slides down my belly and pushes past the elastic waist of my panties. I hesitate for a moment. I want so much more than this life. I’m so tired of being alone. I’m so tired of being lonely. A tear runs down my cheek as I move my fingers the way James did. Pushing them inside myself. Pumping as I picture the way he undid his belt buckle and released his cock. I wish I had looked up at his face. I’d give anything to have seen his face when he came down my throat.

That thought is enough to trigger the release. But it’s small and unsatisfying. Only good enough to amplify my drug-induced drowsiness as I turn over.