Broody Brit: A Hero Club Novel by Naima Simone & Hero Club

Author:Naima Simone & Hero Club [Simone, Naima]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cocky Hero Club, Inc.
Published: 2021-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Axel

She’s nervous.

I can’t put my finger on what tips me off to it. But as Zenobia leads me off the hospital elevator onto a floor with pastel walls and all kinds of animals and flowers painted on them, I can definitely tell something has her skittish. Maybe it’s that she hasn’t stopped rambling on since she met me at the emergency room entrance. Or that she keeps tugging on the hem of her light blue top. Or that she hasn’t really looked at me.

And I’ve noticed the latter, because I can’t stop looking at her.

With her dense curls pulled up in a bun, her lovely, clean profile is exposed to my greedy stare. And I gorge on it.

Just like that golden-brown gaze feasted on me last night.

Did she think I wouldn’t notice? As if I wouldn’t feel the almost physical touch of her eyes on my chest, my hips, my thighs—my dick. Jesus, how I managed not to harden and rise right then with her eye-fucking me was a minor miracle. But goddamn, it was close. Hunger had darkened those gorgeous eyes. Hunger for me. And when I asked her what she needed from me, I’d prayed she’d ease this voracious craving we both suffered and demand my cock. Demand me, plowing so deep, so hard inside of her that the walls would rattle with it like restless ghosts.

But she didn’t.

And I wasn’t surprised. Because God wouldn’t answer a supplication about fucking anyway.

He wouldn’t answer any prayers from me at all.

But then again, maybe I’m wrong on that. Maybe He did answer by saving me from assured damnation if I’d tasted that beautiful, lush skin and the undoubtedly even softer, sweeter flesh between her thick thighs.

Moments after stopping by the nurses’ station where Zenobia speaks with her coworker, I stand next to her in front of a partially closed room door.

“Ready?” she asks with another pull on her top and a quick swipe of her tongue across her full lips.

The sight of that has lust grinding my stomach to dust, but my attention focuses on the meaning behind that gesture. “Are you?” I shoot back.

Her head snaps up, and she frowns. “What do you mean? Of course, I am.”

Instead of answering, I jerk my chin toward the door. Exhaling a deep breath, she raps on the wood then enters the room, me on her heels. It’s more of the same child-friendly decoration in here, a mounted television with that irritating-as-hell yellow sponge yapping away, medical equipment, and a bed with a young girl wearing a pink cast on her arm reclining in the middle of it. Zenobia greets the girl, and a smile blooms across her face, and shock jackhammers the breath out of my lungs. The eye color is different, but the shape of those eyes, the nose, the features and that smile…

Zenobia’s taking the fucking mick. Last night she made it seem like this girl was just a patient, but it’s obvious she belongs to Zenobia in some way.

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