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My eyes pop open,my limbs flailing a little as I rip myself out of the dream.
The scratchy generic comforter covered in pastel geometric shapes is too heavy on my body. I shove it away, breathing hard, and lie still on my back for a few moments as the air conditioning cools my heated skin. Early morning light creeps in through the gap in the curtains, and I stare at it as my pulse slowly starts to return to a normal rhythm.
I can still feel Kian’s thick length between my legs, Malix’s tongue on my clit, and Frost’s hard chest pressed up against my back.
Why the fuck am I still dreaming about them?
They’re not even my mates anymore. They’re just three assholes who mean nothing to me. No connection. No bond. There’s no reason for my mind to still be drawing them back in like this.
Goddammit. I’m going to be haunted by them for the rest of my life through no fucking fault of my own.
I kick at the blankets that are still wrapped around my feet—maybe a little petulantly—and they fall off the bed. The annoyingly pastel art on the wall above the TV pisses me off. More than the dream, even.
I want to get the fuck out of here.
After a quick shower, I pack my few belongings and then swing by the registration desk to check out. I have no intention of returning today. Or ever.
I slam through the hotel’s front door and step out into the quickly warming morning.
