Morning light crept across the hardwood floor.

  I blinked my eyes open, shifting my weight, only to find the sheets beside me completely cold and empty. A heavy, suffocating panic instantly seized my chest.

  It was a dream. The crying, the suitcases, the desperate confession on the sofa—my lonely brain had just hallucinated the entire thing. I closed my eyes, a crushing weight pinning me to the mattress. I just wanted to go back to sleep and find the dream again.

  But then, my senses caught up. The sharp, unmistakable sound of sizzling broke the quiet hum of the loft. And then came the smell: sweet, melting butter and warm vanil.

  I threw the bnket off and practically sprinted out of the bedroom.

  Jessica was standing at the kitchen isnd. She was wearing one of my oversized bck t-shirts, her bare legs shifting as she casually flipped a pancake in a skillet. She looked over her shoulder and saw me standing there, panting like a lunatic.

  "Morning, Tiger," she greeted me, her face lighting up with a brilliant, domestic smile.

  Thank God. The tension drained from my body so fast my knees almost buckled. I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms tight around her waist and burying my face in the crook of her neck.

  "I thought I was dreaming," I mumbled against her skin, pressing a soft kiss below her ear.

  "Yeah, well, I wonder what you were dreaming about," she ughed, leaning her weight back against my chest. "Because you snored incredibly loud all night long."

  "What the fuck! I do not snore!" I argued, my ego instantly fring up.

  "Oh, really? Hear this if you don’t believe me!" She dropped the spatu, pulled her phone off the counter, and tapped the screen. A loud, rumbling, rhythmic snoring echoed through the kitchen speaker.

  "Damn you!" I ughed, reaching over her shoulder to snatch the phone. "I was physically drained st night! It’s normal to snore when you're completely exhausted!"

  "Hahahaha! You literally just said you didn't snore!" She swatted my hand away. "Come on, grab some ptes. I made pancakes and I’m starving."

  We didn't talk about the suitcases sitting by the door. We didn't talk about why she was crying. We didn't talk about the university, or her parents, or the boys back home. We just ate breakfast in our own isoted universe.

  And after that? We built a fortress out of pure physical distraction.

  We spent the entire week communicating entirely through our bodies. We fucked everywhere. On the leather sofa, pressed against the cold marble of the kitchen isnd, under the hot water of the shower, and even out on the freezing balcony in the dead of night. We fucked like rabbits, desperately trying to outrun whatever reality was waiting for us outside my front door.

  The only time we paused to catch our breath was at night, sitting on the balcony floor cushions, sharing a cigarette and a beer before dragging each other back to the bedroom. It was an intoxicating, exhausting blur. I was addicted to her, and the sex was only getting better.

  **

  Bzzt! Bzzt! The harsh vibration of my phone rattling against the gss coffee table shattered our week-long bubble. It was Monday morning. I picked it up and saw the caller ID. Nikoy. If the loudmouth Russian was calling me before noon, it meant trouble.

  "Danke, Broda!" I answered, answering with German just to piss him off.

  "Mudak! Danke means thank you, Derro!" Nikoy roared through the phone. Because his thick accent couldn't wrap around "Daeron," I had officially become "Derro."

  "You’re welcome!" I grinned, leaning back on the sofa.

  "Blyad, Brat! No messing around in the morning!" he groaned miserably. "My head is still ringing like a church bell just trying to dial your number."

  I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. You drink way too much vodka, Broda. So, what’s new?"

  "Party tonight!"

  "Wait. Isn’t the massive frat party scheduled for next Saturday? Today is only Monday."

  "Derro... Derro... Derro," Nikoy tutted, sounding like a disappointed professor. "Like the wise men always say: before the main dish, we must first eat the dessert!"

  "You mean the appetizer?"

  "Blyad, you posh people make too big a deal out of food terminology! The important thing is, we need a warm-up party to prepare our livers! And that’s happening tonight!"

  "Can I bring a plus-one?" I asked, gncing toward the bathroom where I could hear the shower running.

  "Ohhhhh… Derro has a chick already! Bomba!!" Nikoy cheered, his hangover completely forgotten.

  "Why do you automatically assume it’s a girl, though?" I joked dryly.

  "Don’t tell me you’re gay?!"

  "Blet! I like pussy!" I fired back, adopting his heavy Russian cadence.

  He roared with ughter. "Yes, yes, bring as many chicks as you want! But remember the golden rule of the crew, Derro!" His tone dropped into dead seriousness. "She must be hot! I absolutely do not want another Triss situation like st month!"

  I burst out ughing, remembering the time a bckout-drunk Nikoy had accidentally hooked up with a terrified, socially awkward math major. "She’s gorgeous, don’t worry. But she’s strictly mine. Keep your smelly hands off her, Broda."

  "Derro! I am a refined gentleman! I never steal my own brother's cheese!"

  "Yeah, sure. Text me the address. See you ter, Broda."

  "Adios, senorita!"

  He hung up. Just as I tossed the phone back onto the table, the bathroom door swung open. A cloud of steam rolled out, followed by Jessica. She was wearing my sweatpants and a small tank top, vigorously drying her damp ginger hair with a towel.

  "I heard you talking," she said, looking at me. "Were you on the phone?"

  "Yeah. Nikoy just called me. He invited us to a frat party tonight."

  "Us?" She paused, lowering the towel.

  "Yep. Are you coming?"

  "Of course," she smirked, tossing the towel over a chair. "You aren't going to leave me locked in here all alone, right?"

  "I don't know," I teased, leaning back and crossing my arms. "Are you sure a preppy girl like you can keep up with the Russians?"

  Suddenly, a heavy, wet towel flew across the room and smacked me squarely in the face. The bubble had officially popped. We were going back out into the real world.

  **

  At 8:00 PM, my tires crunched over the gravel of the dark, off-campus bar parking lot.

  I parked the car and killed the engine. Through the windshield, I spotted Nikoy and the rest of the crew already waiting for us under the flickering orange glow of a streetmp.

  "Ready?" I asked, looking over at Jessica.

  "Let's do it," she smirked, adjusting the colr of her jacket.

  As we stepped out into the freezing winter air, Nikoy threw his arms wide open, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. "Bozhe moy! Who is this absolute hottie?!" he shouted over the heavy bass vibrating through the brick walls of the bar.

  "This is Jessica," I said, sliding a protective hand around her waist and pulling her flush against my side.

  "Ohhh…." Nikoy stopped mid-stride. He slowly lowered his cigarette, his eyes darting between us. He looked at me with a sharply raised eyebrow. "That Jessica?"

  Jessica froze. She turned her head slowly, staring at me like a hawk hunting its prey. "Which Jessica?"

  "Hahaha, Bomba! You actually brought that Jessica!" Nikoy roared, his booming ugh echoing across the empty parking lot.

  "Daeron. Define 'that'," Jessica demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

  "The only girl that Derro ever talks about or wants to spend his time with!" Nikoy ughed, cpping his massive hands together. "So, you two have already..." He made a highly inappropriate, unmistakable hand gesture for wild sex.

  "Alright, that's enough," I cut in quickly, feeling my face burn red in the cold air. I pointed to the other two guys leaning against the brick wall. "Let's ignore this maniac. Anyway, the giant over there is Boris."

  Boris gave Jessica a slow, silent, intimidating nod.

  "And that cool guy with the drink is Andrew." Andrew offered a friendly, slightly drunk wave. "So, come on, Broda! Get us inside. Show me to the table!"

  As we walked toward the heavy front doors, Jessica leaned close to my ear, her warm breath ghosting over my skin. "So… that morning in your loft really was your first time, wasn't it?"

  I squinted down at her, trying to look deeply offended. "Did you honestly think I was a slut?"

  She burst into a fit of giggles, elbowing me hard in the ribs.

  We bypassed the massive line wrapping around the building. Because Nikoy was basically the unofficial king of the underground college scene, the bouncers just nodded at him. We walked right through the doors, no fake IDs required, and stepped directly into the chaos.

  *

  The bar was an absolute madhouse. It was dark, packed with sweating bodies, and lit only by fshing neon strobe lights. We pushed through the crowd and took over a rge, curved leather booth in the back corner that Nikoy had permanently reserved.

  "Whoa, you guys actually manage to slip into these 21-plus bars and even get a VIP table?" Jessica yelled into my ear over the deafening music, clearly impressed by the setup.

  "Yeah. Nikoy knows his shit."

  "But, you told me we were going to a frat party on campus tonight."

  "The frat party will happen ter, Systra!" Nikoy interrupted loudly, smming a massive tray of shot gsses onto the table. "Tonight is a RAVE! We warm up here!"

  Not long after that, the DJ cranked the volume. The bring electronic bass literally shook the drinks on our table. It didn't take a second for the massive dance floor to fill up completely with college students dancing wildly to the heavy, synthetic beat.

  Our table started throwing down multiple rounds of cheap vodka shots. The Russian strategy was simple: get as drunk as humanly possible before stepping onto the dance floor. As always, Andrew was the first casualty; he literally jumped over the back of the booth onto the dance floor, immediately trying to grind with a group of sorority girls. And Boris? The silent giant was an absolute menace when he had vodka in his system. He walked out into the crowd, and within five minutes, he returned to our table with two gorgeous, highly intoxicated girls draped over his massive arms.

  Nikoy was a biological tank. His tolerance for alcohol was genuinely terrifying. He spent the first hour nursing us, pouring shot after shot down my throat until the neon lights started spinning into a blur. Once his job was done, he hit the dance floor with a half-empty bottle of Grey Goose in his hand.

  "Damn, this pce is totally wild!" Jessica yelled, her eyes wide as she looked around the dark, chaotic room.

  "Yep! These guys thrive on this kind of energy. You wanna go dance now?" I offered, holding my hand out.

  "Let’s go!"

  We pushed our way into the center of the sweaty, crowded dance floor. Jessica started dancing wildly, her body moving perfectly to the heavy, synthetic bass. I looked at her face under the fshing strobe lights; her cheeks and ears were flushed bright red. Yep. She was absolutely wasted.

  She turned around and leaned back against my chest, starting a slow, highly sensual grind against my hips. I slid my hands down her waist, gripping her tight. Suddenly, she jolted backward, gasping loudly.

  "Fuck!" Jessica whimpered, her head falling back heavily against my shoulder.

  "Fuck... did you just finish?" I whispered in disbelief, my lips brushing against her earlobe

  "Mmmhhm," she nodded frantically, biting her lower lip to stifle another moan. "We didn't have a quickie before we came here tonight! I’m so fucking horny, Tiger! Let’s go back to the dark table right now."

  We shoved our way off the dance floor and stumbled back to our secluded corner booth. When we slid into the leather seats, we saw Boris already heavily making out with the two girls he had brought back.

  "Fuck! Watching them is making me even wetter!" Jessica whispered fiercely into my ear.

  Without waiting for an answer or an invitation, she pushed me backward until my spine hit the back of the leather sofa. She immediately climbed over my legs, straddling my p in the dark corner of the booth. She grabbed my face, and we began making out aggressively, our tongues battling for dominance.

  She began to roll her hips down against me in a slow, agonizing circle. My hands eagerly explored her body, gripping her thighs and waist. Her wild excitement, combined with the heavy amount of vodka burning in my blood, completely destroyed my self-control. My jeans were painfully tight.

  I couldn't contain my lust for another second. "Let’s fuck. Right now."

  I slid my right hand down, slipping two fingers inside her panties. She was completely, totally soaked. I rubbed her center gently, the wet, slick sounds completely drowned out by the bring bass of the DJ.

  "Pull it out. Put it inside me, babe!" Jessica demanded breathlessly.

  I gnced at the crowd packed only a few feet away, the strobe lights fshing over oblivious faces, but the risk only spiked the adrenaline completely frying my brain.

  Her hands frantically unzipped my jeans. She pulled me free into the cool air of the bar. She grabbed my hips, aligned herself, and rubbed the tip against her soaked center for a brief, agonizing second before dropping her weight, taking my entire hard length deep inside her.

  "Fuck!!!" Jessica shouted, a loud, unapologetic moan escaping her lips as we fully connected.

  She began riding me aggressively. I grabbed her firm hips, holding her tight to help her move faster and deeper against the leather cushions. I pulled the colr of her top down, exposing the top of her chest to the dark room, and I devoured her neck and colrbone wildly.

  Her breathing became incredibly heavy, her nails digging into my shoulders as I thrust my hips up to meet her frantic, sloppy rhythm.

  "What the fuck, brother?" a deep, rumbling voice suddenly asked.

  Boris, who had been busy groping his two girls on the opposite side of the rge, U-shaped booth, had finally noticed the intense, rhythmic shaking of our side of the sofa. He reached across the table and tapped the back of my hand, which was currently bruising Jessica’s hip.

  My protective, violent subconscious instantly took over.

  I snapped my head up. I gred at him fiercely, my grey eyes completely cold and deadly in the neon light, silently signaling him that if he disturbed or messed with me right now, I would end him.

  Boris stared at my deadly gre for a long, incredibly tense second. The two girls next to him completely froze in fear.

  "….. BUAHAHAHAHAHA! That’s my fucking Brotha!!!" Boris suddenly roared with ughter, his stern, quiet, stoic mask completely shattering into pieces.

  Boris stood up from his seat, leaving his two terrified girls behind. He stepped in front of our section of the booth, turning his massive, towering back to us to completely block the view from the rest of the crowded bar. "Go finish it first, Brotha! I’ll keep an eye out for the bouncers!"

  Boris's sudden, chaotic, completely insane intervention actually made me even hornier. The sheer thrill of the exhibitionism spiked my adrenaline. I could feel Jessica become even wetter around me as she realized what was happening. Her breath hitched, and we began to fuck even more aggressively in the dark booth, no longer caring how much noise we made.

  Her inside tightened perfectly around my shaft, gripping me like a vice, and I knew I was right on the absolute edge.

  "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! HARDER, BABE!! LET’S CUM TOGETHER!!" she screamed, her voice completely lost in the heavy electronic bass drop.

  A heavy, intense wave of fluid gushed from her just as I released a massive, blinding load deep inside her. My vision went white. She colpsed forward, completely spent, leaning her sweaty forehead heavily against my neck.

  "Fuck! That was awesome," she giggled breathlessly, her heart hammering against my chest.

  "Yeah! Fucking A!" I grabbed the back of her neck, gently moved her flushed face in front of mine, and ravished her lips in a deep, sloppy, vodka-tasting kiss.

  "Damn, Brotha! You two are absolute Sex Demons!" Boris ughed hard over his shoulder, still standing guard like a brick wall and trying to cover our messy aftermath from the view of the wild dance floor.