by Kira Graham
Since her accident, and after the doctor told me just how close we were to losing her, I’ve had mini panic attacks just thinking about something happening to her. In the last two—nearly three—months, I’ve veered between being sure that we should stay away from each other, to doing weird shit like parking outside this building, watching the entrance for hours.
In my head, I know that we’re too explosive to make sense, but every time I see this woman, all I can think is that I want her. I want her so badly that I can’t stand the smell, the touch, or even the physical nearness of other women. I want her so badly that I wake up in the middle of the night jacking off to dreams that are so erotic that I’ve become obsessed with the idea of knowing what it would be like to finally have her.
In my dreams, I see us entwined, sweaty, and so closely joined that it’s out of control and wild enough to burn us both. And I will have that, I think, as I look at her and take in her defiant expression. I don’t know what will come after, or even if I want an after, but right this minute, I have every intention of releasing the fury that I felt when I watched her flirt with Heath. On her. Inside her. All over her, if we survive this first battle.
“I’m moving on.”
Those words are like a spark to gunpowder, and before I can stop myself, I kiss her. To shut her up. To erase the words. Because I need to, and nothing will stop me now.
Sin goes stiff on me and gasps, and I use the moment to lick inside her mouth, a groan leaving me when I taste her. She’s a drug in my veins, slowly filling me until all I feel is the zing of her. And I love it.
“Wait,” she gasps into my mouth, her tongue plunging in to circle mine before she can stop herself.
I don’t wait. In fact, I kiss her harder and slip my hands down to her ass, squeezing the tight globes before hoisting her up so that her legs wrap around my hips, and her sex settles over my cock, right where I need her. The heat and pressure has my eyes rolling back, and I hear her own moan as I stumble backward, blindly walking until I meet a door. With our mouths still locked, our tongues dueling and sucking, we reach a room and stumble inside, my willpower deserting me hard and fast when Sin starts to writhe, rubbing herself against me.
I can smell her arousal now, and feel the wet heat seeping through the fabric of my pants. I want that all over my cock, soaking into my skin as I pound out this need that’s curled low in my gut. Knowing that I won’t last long, that I need to relieve some of the urgency first, I kiss her hard and start a pumping rhythm with my hips, hitting her clit with the head of my cock on every upstroke.
The sensation is torture, but I want her so wet for me that when I rip her clothes off, she’ll be on the brink of climax.
“That’s it. Yeah. Grind on me, baby,” I whisper, pulling my mouth back so that we can both drag in a breath of air.
Sin moans, the sound going straight to my leaking dick, and I find myself in the precarious position of wanting to lose control. I promised myself a long time ago that if I ever got this far, I’d take my time, seduce her to the point of madness, and give her so much foreplay that she’d be ruined for anyone but me.
Now, I need to come so badly that I have to bite my lip and count in order to distract myself from giving in. Fuck.
“Oh, God. Oh, God—harder,” Sin moans, leaning her head back and grinding down against me, her mouth hanging open as pleasure streaks through her.
This feels like heaven. Not having much more control left, I pull away from the door after making sure it’s locked, walk the few steps to the bed, and drop her down, using her surprise and unfulfilled need to rip her clothes off fast. I do it so skillfully that by the time I’m naked, she’s blinking up at me, a look of confusion in her eyes. She’s trying to shake off the sex haze, trying to regain her sanity.
But I won’t let her. I’ve been half-insane since the day I met her, so it seems only fair that she’s here with me now, feeling this way, too. That’s why I fight for control, and instead of falling on her like my dick demands, I scoop my hands around her thighs, pull her to the edge of the bed, and fall to my knees.
She can’t move, the way I have her pinned, and I like the sound of distress that she makes when she realizes this, right before I drop my head and bury my face in her sex. That first touch, that skin-on-skin contact, makes pre-come shoot from my tip, and I groan right along with her as I rub my cheeks against her and breathe in deeply.
I’m a man, not some screwed-up poet who uses prose to describe what a woman smells like between her legs, but I swear to God that this is unlike anything I’ve ever had before. Vanilla hits my senses, mixed in with that tangy, musky scent that is sex. It snaps my control in half, and before I can stop, I twist my head, open my mouth wide, and lick into her, my growl of pleasure vibrating into her flesh as her flavor bursts onto my tongue.
Fuuuuck.
“Oooooh. Shit! Oh. There!” she screams, when I pull her closer to the edge and more tightly against my mouth, my tongue delving deeply into her, where she’s so wet that all I have to do is suck to get a mouthful of her flavor.
Heaven. It’s all I can think as I continue to make love to her sex, kissing her the way I would her mouth, before moving up to suck on her clit. I show no mercy as I apply strong suction, and a growl of satisfaction breaks free when I feel her stiffen beneath me and yell, the tightening of her clit telling me that she’s on the brink.
I should eat her out, make her come at least twice before I take her, but I don’t have it in me right now. Reluctantly dragging my mouth free, I stand and, using my hold on her hips, pull her onto my cock with one brutal thrust. Warmth engulfs me. Tightness. Heat. Perfection. It’s the greatest pleasure I’ve ever experienced, and it only gets better when Sin suddenly screams low in her throat and goes stiff beneath me, her sex convulsing around me as her orgasm hits.
I can’t hold on. It’s impossible. I come with a roar and savor the way it feels when my climax sets her off again, her sheath giving a tremulous clench before it tightens again in a second orgasm that locks so tightly around my dick that I almost pass out from the pleasure.
And it’s just the beginning.
Sinai
Tiptoeing out of my bedroom, I slowly close the door and cringe with every squeak of its hinges. When the panel is shut, I turn slowly and fall against the wall, closing my eyes and letting out a breath of relief.
Waking up the morning after sex, the likes of which we just shared, is…phew. What can I say? I’m equal parts smug and terrified about what happened last night. And this morning. And a little after that—
Okay, so we hardly slept last night, and I’m exhausted to the point where I should probably go back to bed and sleep half the day away, like Paris probably will. Thank you, Lord, that it’s Saturday, and thank you, Lord—
“You little whore,” I hear, the drawl accusing and so amused that I have to slap a hand over my mouth in order to muffle my scream.
Popping my lids open, I glare at Tee and come this close to slapping her smiling face. Unfortunately, hitting Nefertiti is like aiming a loaded nuke at someone who’s willing to take the hit. And then point ten back my way.
“Go away,” I hiss, literally tiptoeing down the hall in order to get to the kitchen and the coffee that I smell brewing.
Once I have a cup in my hand, I lean against the counter and peruse my outfit, feeling like a cliché but also loving the fact that I’m currently wearing his shirt, just like I’ve seen women do in the movies. I always wanted to do that; I just never liked the way a guy smells enough to risk putting their sweaty clothes against my skin. Until Paris. God, what am I going to do about Paris?
“Can’t. This is my apartment. Plus, you know that I’ll just find out anyway,” she replies, getting herself a cup of coffee and then settling at the breakfast bar with a slice of chocolate mousse cake that I find myself coveting. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll bite something off if you come near me.”
The warning is one that I take to heart
, so I end up dropping two Pop-Tarts in the toaster before I turn to face the firing squad with a groan of defeat.
“I don’t write in that diary anymore, so—”
“Yeah, I know. You do that online journal thing. Bad idea, cuz. Terrible idea, especially when you consider that Rosetta and Zeus spend at least three nights a week sleeping in Brent’s hospital room, and she gets bored,” Tee points out, grinning when I curse and curl my lip at her.
I know all too well that Rosetta would hack into my private journal without a second thought, and that she’d do it without shame, too, so keeping anything to myself is just like loading the gun that they’ll point at me later.
“No change with Brent?” I ask, my chest aching.
The cop, as we used to call him the few times that Rosetta let us near her “contacts,” is a well-liked and very much missed part of our clan, and it hurts us all that he’s still in a coma, thanks to the injuries he sustained when Barnes Hilan broke into Rosetta’s building and attacked the security guys. Brent suffered near fatal injuries that saw the doctors putting him into an induced coma until his body could heal. But it’s now been months since they tried to wake him and failed, and at this point, every day is a waiting game. The doctors have finally just told Rosetta that Brent will either wake on his own, or not at all.
I pray for him daily and keep him in my thoughts, hoping that all of the prayers will somehow pull off a miracle, and that he’ll wake up one of these days ready to rock and roll as he always did.
“Nada. He’s off the ventilator, so we’re thinking that that’s at least some kind of improvement, but Rosetta is starting to lose it. It doesn’t help that she just found out she’s kno—” Tee stops abruptly and grimaces, her eyes going soft.
That’s never a good thing, because it means either that she’s toying with me, or worse, that her conscience is actually raising its head, and there’s something that she doesn’t want to tell me.
“She’s what?” I ask softly, though I think that I already know the answer.
It thrills me and kills me at the same time, and I have to steel myself for the news, because the truth is that breaking down and acting like this is a bad thing would be a total dick move on my part. Other people deserve to be happy. Rosetta deserves to be happy, and if Tee’s going to say what I think she’s going to say, then I will be happy for her.
“Sinny—”
“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?” I ask, croaking out only the last word and feeling proud of myself for getting so close to being okay.
Tee sighs, and in that sigh, I hear a lot of stuff that I don’t want to. She’s feeling what she’d call sympathy for me, and I call pity, an emotion that stirs my fury to the point of madness. I can deal with just about anything at this point, but pity is not on that list. And honestly, what do I have to be pitied for? So I can’t have kids with my own uterus—so freaking what? Pregnancy isn’t exactly a freaking fairy tale, and thanks to the crap that poor Alex went through while she was carrying Seth and Axel, I’m thinking that I may actually be dodging a bullet. It doesn’t matter that I feel defective, or that I won’t get to brag about how hot I look even after eating a whole cake—again, Alex’s experience—because these are things that I can’t change, and hoping for miracles isn’t something that I’m willing to do.
This is good. It is. It’s so good.
“Sinny, I wanted to tell you—”
“Why didn’t Rose tell me?” I cut in, my teeth grinding down so hard that I hear them crackle.
Tee shrugs, but her face says it all, and dammit, that makes me feel like hell. Here she is, finally getting the news that she’s been dying to get for months, and I’m the downer in the situation, that dark spot on the horizon of her sunny sky.
“She didn’t know how,” Tee says, once again giving me that soft look before I curl my lip, grab a soft handful of her cake, and shove it into my mouth with relish.
See how sorry you can feel for me now, bitch, I taunt silently, smiling around the mousse that’s covering me from lips to chin, while she curses and glares up at me darkly.
“You bitch. I warned you!” she hisses, losing the pity and getting to her feet, a growl brewing in her chest.
“And I’m warning you that I won’t stand for that pity bullshit, and I am not okay with you and Rosetta talking about me like I’m some poor defective loser! I can’t have babies, and she’s pregnant; so fucking what? I’m happy for her, you fool!” I yell, slamming my half-full cup down with a bang that sloshes coffee over the rim and onto my hand.
It’s scalding hot and burns me, but the sting erases the haze that’s come over me and brings me back to reality with a harsh thump that leaves me a little rattled. I just yelled my secrets out, and Paris is asleep in my bedroom. Oh, God.
“Calm down, Sinai. Breathe,” I hear, coming to and realizing that I’m seated on the couch with Tee crouching beside me, her concerned eyes meeting mine. “Jesus, you’re a mess, cuz.”
I know. I’m insane, messed up, and weird, but as she continues to stare at me, I find a giggle bubbling free—until Tee frowns and then, miraculously, starts giggling, too.
“Paris Hart is in my bed, and I’m sitting here with you, arguing about happy news. I really am messed up,” I admit, snorting when Tee shrugs and flops down, resting her head in my lap.
“Paris Hart is sawing logs after the two of you screwed all night, loudly enough to cause a noise complaint, and you’re sitting here with me freaking out because, well, you’re so messed up lately that you tell everyone the truth but yourself.”
“Don’t get all shrink-esque on me, loser,” I warn, chuckling when she turns her head and bites my stomach gently.
“Who’re you calling a loser? I’m cooler than you. I didn’t have a nervous breakdown when I heard that Rosetta was going to spawn,” she says proudly, shuddering along with me.
“That’s ’cause you’re probably so fertile that you could get pregnant if a guy even mentioned coming inside you,” I snort, the words somehow not hurting as much as they would have a few months ago.
In fact, I find it as funny as hell, and laugh loudly when Tee stiffens and looks up at me, her eyes murderous.
“That isn’t funny. Take it back before you jinx me,” she hisses, her hand reaching up to twist my nipple before I slap it away and keep laughing.
“Nope. No way. Someone in this family has to have some semi-normal offspring. Alex’s two monsters are already watching the world with that calculating gleam she has, Cleo is nuts and will one day have crazy babies just like her, and don’t even get me started on what’s going to come out of Rosetta,” I wheeze, giggling when Tee snorts and cracks up while crossing herself. “It’s a sad fact to face, but face it I will. You’re probably the only hope that poor Honey and the rest of the parents have for normal, un-homicidal grandkids.”
Tee snorts again and looks up at me, her eyes filled with a million thoughts before she purses her lips and shakes her head.
“I don’t want kids; did I ever tell you that?” she asks, stalling my breath in my chest.
It’s as ironic as hell that she’s saying this to me, the woman who would do anything to simply have the ability.
“You don’t? Why not? Don’t you like children?”
“Nah, I like ’em just fine—just don’t want to have any of my own. Just don’t tell my mom, or I’ll be dragged to church to have my demons exorcized,” she says playfully, smiling when I giggle.
I can totally see something like that happening, because in this family of staunch Catholics, who see marriage and parenthood as the ultimate success in life, it’s a sin to profess your lack of maternal instinct. A few months ago, I thought exactly the same thing, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t raring to spew out a bunch of offspring any time soon, either. I’m still young, and I have a lot of adventures left to live, so kids weren’t exactly an immediate future kind of item on any list of mine.
Huh.
“My lips are seale
d.”
“I’ll have your babies, though,” she whispers, reminding me just why Tee and I have always gotten along as well as we do.
Of the five of us, we two have always been tight. She gets me, and I get her moody, murderous personality, because I also see the softness that she so rarely lets others see. Tee is a solid chick, and one that I would be honored to ruin with my babies, if that day ever comes.
“Thanks, but with the way that things are going right now, that may never happen,” I muse, my ears perking up when I hear movement in my bedroom.
“The Sexinator seems to be coming back online,” Tee says with a smirk as she rolls to her feet and walks towards her bedroom, pausing at the door to look back at me. “Be strong. Or I’ll fuck you up for being weak. Sex can be sex just for the sake of it, or it can be about love, but your self-respect is the keystone of it all. Don’t falter.”
Taking her advice, I force myself to go back to the kitchen and pour two cups of coffee, grabbing the Pop-Tarts on the way to my bedroom. My heart is beating in my chest like a drum, and my legs are quivering as I stop in front of the door, pausing to take a deep, steadying breath.
I’m not a coward, and I am not a liar. I will go in there and face this and tell him the truth about how I feel, even if some part of me knows that that’s a bad idea. The truth will set you free, I remind myself, my lips quirking at the memory of Uncle Jack telling me those exact words when I was ten and on the hook for breaking Jesse Niles’s nose because he’d made fun of me. Of course, Jack also added that lying and using my cute face could save me if I didn’t want to face the music.
But I told the truth then, too, despite the punishment that I knew was coming my way, because—why not, ya know? I like it when people get pissy. It’s as entertaining as hell.
Taking another breath, I remind myself that I don’t care if Paris wants me or not, because I want him, and I push through the door with that resolve clear in my mind. “Go after what you want,” Uncle Jack’s voice whispers in my head. “Don’t take no for an answer. Take your dreams in hand and make them a reality.”
