KYRIE.
I rolled out of bed, and thankfully, Jessa was still sound asleep.
I grabbed my keys off the nightstand and slipped out of the house like it was a goddamn crime scene. My hands were shaking so bad I nearly dropped the keys twice. My entire body was trembling.
While I couldn't stop thinking about why the hell I would dream of Saint and me... tag-teaming his stepsister of all people, whom he had taken to be a responsibility no one assigned to him, I couldn't help but feel the fire in my balls. And the worst part? Some deranged part of me wished it were real.
It wasn't even one of those vague, blurry dreams you forget the second you wake up. No. This one stuck. This was a fantasy. Filthy. Violent. Addictive.
I don't dream often. And when I do? I wake up, roll my eyes, and move on
