Page 13 of Embraced in Ink

But she knew he was going to be here today.

They would have to talk about it. Fix it.

Somehow.

The doorbell rang twice in a row, and it sounded almost angry.

And then she realized exactly what had woken her up from her naughty dream.

No, it wasn’t the orgasm, it was the doorbell.

She jumped out of bed and searched for shorts or pants but couldn’t find them.

The doorbell rang again, and then her phone started buzzing. She ran to the door, afraid it was an emergency.

She didn’t care that she was only wearing panties and a tank top, and her nipple was showing. She had to make sure everyone was safe.

She flung open the door without bothering to look and froze.

“Marcus,” she said. She couldn’t help but remember exactly the way her voice had sounded when she breathed his name as he pistoned inside her with that thick and meaty cock.

She did not know what Marcus’s cock looked like, and only Dream Bristol had ever thought about it—lie. She was never going to know what his dick looked like.

Right?

Dream Marcus was a totally different thing. He did not exist. She was fine. She wasn’t losing her mind.

Bristol looked up at her best friend—or maybe he was her fiancé, she wasn’t quite sure right then—and tried to catch her breath.

He had on a leather jacket, a white T-shirt, and jeans. His hands were in his jacket pockets, and he looked at her, his jaw tense.

“Bristol,” he growled.

Growled? Marcus didn’t growl at her.

And then she remembered what she was wearing. Or rather, what shewasn’twearing.

She stumbled back, tripped over her shoe since she hadn’t put them away the night before, and nearly fell right on her ass before Marcus reached out and grabbed her by her elbows. He was strong enough to keep her on her feet, and she was grateful.

Because she would’ve gleefully fallen on her butt, broken a hip, anything to protect her hands and her arms.

They were insured, after all, and needed for her livelihood.

And now she was thinking about injuries to herself rather than the fact that she was now firmly pressed against her best friend/fiancé—nearly naked.

“I really need to put on some clothes.”

“Yeah, I think you really do.”

But he didn’t let go of her. And she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she swallowed hard and looked up at Marcus, and then licked her lips.

She noticed thathenoticed the action, and she knew they’d both lost their minds. Because that was the only rational explanation for what was going on.

She did not want to have sex with her best friend, but that sex dream, and the way her pussy still clenched at just the thought of him? Okay, maybe shedidwant to have sex with her best friend.

Oh my God, how did this happen?