Page 31 of Pomegranates and Olive

I try to focus on his face, to see the man that was making love to me, gaining momentum with each stroke. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you!"

"Louder!"

"Yes, Yilmaz, I want you! Yes, yes, YES!"

I shot straight up in my bed, gasping for air. My dream had taken a terrible turn.

No! Not Deniz. Anyone but Deniz!

I wanted to cry as my traitorous brain had let me down again and taking my desperatemiciowith it.

I was jetlagged. True.

Exhausted. Yes.

Frustrated. Definitely.

Not thinking straight. Apparently.

I fell back into bed and threw the covers over my head and begged for sleep.

Ugh!

* * *

I rub my face and pull myself back to the problem at hand.

Unfortunately, none of that explains how I ended up on the terrace in a Justin Bieber t-shirt, in my red Hanes underwear and spooning a snoring Kangal. But I couldn't let myself dwell on that right now because, well, I might not like the answer that I find.

But one thing is absolutely clear to me… I really need to get laid!

7

You’ve Been Outed As A Belieber!

Everything aches and I'm a little shaky from the exertion of simply standing up. Still, I manage to drag myself inside and fall onto the bed. As expected, with the movement comes a splitting headache. To anyone else, this headache would be considered an epic hangover but I'm a Russo and we don't do hangovers. Period. You might see me with bloodshot eyes or maybe a little fatigued, and I've also been known to lose my breakfast on occasion, still, it's nothing that an enormous coffee and a couple of headache tablets can’t fix.

Having said that, the headache, coupled with my personal humiliation of my near Yilmaz orgasm, makes me want to crawl under my covers and sleep the day away. It will never happen, though, because as soon as my head hit the pillow the smell of freshly ground coffee wafts under my door. There's also the familiar sound of pots and pans banging together alerting me to the happy family in the kitchen. And breakfast.

Time to get up. I moan as I stand back up and stare at myself in the mirror. Yikes. JB t-shirt aside, I'm a hot mess right now. Smoothing down my hair, I retrieve a rogue leaf that I find and toss it out the window before grabbing my sunglasses. It's all a little too glary right now.

Wandering down the hallway I poke my head around the kitchen door. Yep, this truly is the definition of a picture-perfect family. Ginny's at the stove cooking, Aydin's sipping coffee, and Emine’s on the floor petting the tabby cat. "Morning."

"Morning, darl. Coffee's on. How's the head?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." I strike a pose as I step in and point at the JB t-shirt. "Any idea where I got this from?"

"You don't remember?"

"I know I don't own a Justin Bieber t-shirt."

"I do." Aydin puts his hand up meekly. "Ginny gave you my t-shirt to wear to bed last night."

"Why do you have a Justin Bieber t-shirt?"

Ginny starts laughing as she skilfully flips a pancake. "That's the question you want to ask?"

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