Snare (Falling Stars #3)

by Sadie Grubor

  The girls decide to finish the game singing together. They bring up a song I'm not familiar with, but holy shit, it's about masturbating. Biting my lip, I try not to laugh.

  "What the hell is this song about?" Ember asks, looking from me and settling her eyes on Xavier.

  Sherry raises her glass of wine in the air, giving a woo-hoo.

  He's mid-shrug when he gets it, a flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks until he's completely red-faced.

  "What the fuck?" he asks on a yell.

  The girls stop mid-verse about loving themselves and screaming their own name, and that's all I can take. I lose my shit, laughing so hard, I almost slide out of the chair.

  "There will be no loving yourself," he scolds, pushing up from the couch and turning the game system off.

  "We were in the final round, Dad," Lyra argues, hands on her slim hips.

  I gasp, trying to breathe, but it just fuels my giggle fit.

  "And you…" his voice drops deep, mustering all the authority a father can, "you fucking knew what they were singing, didn't you?"

  I can't stop laughing long enough to defend myself. Instead, I say, "You," I giggle, "cursed."

  "Yeah, that's sixty—" Cass begins, but doesn't get to finish.

  "Not this time," he barks, turning to face his daughters. "I get a free pass when my little girls are singing about… about…" he doesn't finish, instead motioning toward the game with his hand.

  "It's a female empowerment song, Dad," Cass tells him.

  I pull myself up into the chair and hide my face in my hands, trying to breathe through the hilarity.

  "Keep your empowerment covered and don't speak of it again," he snaps.

  "Oh my god," I squeak, peeking through my fingers and trying to remain calm.

  "You—" his narrowed eyes pin me.

  "So," Ember interjects, "what are we doing for dinner?"

  Sidra

  "I fold," Xavier grumbles, throwing his cards onto the table.

  "You're counting cards," Nate accuses.

  "Such a cry baby," Ember taunts.

  "She has to be," he exclaims, throwing an arm out in my direction.

  "Can't prove it," I say, keeping my eyes on the cards on the table.

  Giggles fill both my ears. Cass and Lyra are sitting on either side of me as I covertly educate them on card counting.

  "That's illegal," Ian adds from his spot in front of the TV, Xbox controller in his hand.

  I gasp, looking up at Nate with wide eyes.

  "I would never break the law."

  Xavier spits out his beer, coughing.

  "You did not just say that," he says, leveling me with a disbelieving look.

  "I'm a good girl," I declare, looking back at my terrible cards.

  "I fold, too," Nate growls, slapping his hand on the dining room table.

  "Such a poor loser," Sherry teases, sipping from another glass of wine.

  "Yay, I win again," I cheer, putting my cards face down on the table.

  "What did you have?" Nate asks, reaching over to flip them.

  I slap his hand away and narrow my eyes. "Back off, Mister Grabby Hands."

  His eyes grow round and mouth gapes open.

  Everyone at the table, except Nate, laughs.

  Spreading my arms over the middle of the table, I pull all the pretzels and candy toward me.

  "I think I'm going to call it a night," Ember says, pushing away from the table.

  "Me, too." I quickly jump on an escape route.

  After dinner, Sherry and Xavier tag teamed me, using the twins to prevent me from going upstairs. Now, I could maybe get an hour of work done before settling in to read.

  I stand and motion to my loot on the table, looking at the girls.

  "Divide it between the two of you and remember what I taught you."

  "I knew it!" Nate points at me.

  Glancing at him, I grin. "Still can't prove anything."

  "That's kind of your motto, isn't it?" Xavier asks, leaning back in his chair.

  "Hmm?" I furrow my brow.

  "Can't prove it," he clarifies.

  "It's not a motto, it's just a fact." I shrug and turn for the stairs.

  "Oh, Sidra," Sherry calls out, causing me to cringe.

  "Yeah?" I turn back.

  "I moved your things into the master bedroom." The grin she wears should be my first warning.

  "Why would—?"

  "I don't need a bedroom," Xavier interrupts. "I'll sleep down in the game room with the boys." He nods his head toward his nephews.

  Even more confused now, I ask, "Am I bunking with someone?"

  "My mom," Xavier says at the same time his mother says, "Xavier, of course."

  "What?" I choke out.

  "When did you—?"

  "Oh, you two will be fine." She waves us off.

  "Um, I don't—"

  "You two are just friends, right?" Her question cuts off my protest.

  "Yeah, sure, but—"

  "But nothing," she interrupts again. "The bed is huge. It's a California King."

  "You know, maybe us bunking together isn't a bad idea," I offer Sherry.

  "I hardly know you," she objects.

  Ember's laugh earns her a glare before I look to Xavier for support against his mother. He gives a half smile before bringing his beer bottle to his lips.

  "Not going to interject here at all?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  His eyes drop to my pushed up breasts and then come back up to meet my narrowed gaze.

  "Nope," is his response.

  Sherry stands from her chair, her body swaying as she approaches me. She places a hand to my cheek and smiles.

  "You're just friends, remember?" Her eyebrows raise in challenge.

  She's testing me—us.

  While part of me is impressed, the other wants to hold her down and shave her perfectly sleek blonde hair from her head.

  Grinding my teeth together, I force a smile and turn back to the stairs. Don't shave the head of your porn star crush, I chant, retreating from the room.

  Upstairs, I enter the master bedroom and close the door behind me.

  The large bed sits in the center of the room. To my left is a set of glass doors leading to a snow-covered deck. To the right, my bags sit on the floor next to the closet Xavier pulled the snowsuits from, and just beyond that is another door.

  Stepping to my bags, I find them mostly empty. My small bag is the only one with my laptop, tablet, and work files still inside. I lift the bag and carry it to the bed before going to the closet.

  Pulling open the door, I reach around and feel the wall. I flip the switch when my fingers find it, step inside, and see most of my clothes hanging on the opposite side of Xavier's.

  Exiting the closet, I go to a long dresser and pull open a drawer to the right. It's full of men's socks, t-shirts, and underwear.

  Someone likes to wear boxers.

  Trying the drawer on the left, I find my bras, underwear, and socks.

  "She went through my underwear," I say aloud to myself.

  Well, that's just fucking great. Sherry probably has lacey little thongs and cute satin bras, and she's gone through my cotton bikinis, full-coverage minimizer bras, and definitely saw the pair of Spanx I never go anywhere without. Sure, I own lace and satin. Not in the micro sizes Sherry and her daughter wear, but I didn't plan on needing sexy under-things for a mountain holiday.

  I sigh before opening the next drawer down and find my t-shirts and sleep shorts. Snatching up my Fat People are Harder to Kidnap. Eat Cake. t-shirt and smiley-face-covered shorts, I enter the bathroom.

  "Damn, she's good," I say to no one again, shoving the bathroom door closed with my foot.

  Setting my clothes on the tiled counter, I find my cosmetic and toiletry bags sitting next to the closest of the double sinks. Removing my razor, shampoo, and conditioner, I undress and carry them into the shower.

  After rinsing out the shampoo
, I saturate my thick hair with conditioner and twist it on top of my head. I'm shaving my second armpit when I hear him enter the room.

  Skipping my leg shaving, I lean back into the spray and begin rinsing my hair.

  "Damn, it's all steamed up in here, but it smells amazing," Xavier says.

  My body freezes for about two seconds.

  "Get out," I yell.

  "Calm down, I can't see anything," he claims.

  "I don't care," I snap. "I prefer to shower alone."

  "Am I in there with you?" he asks around something in his mouth.

  Annoyed, I grab the shower curtain and stick my dripping head out.

  "You really have a problem with personal space, don't you?"

  He stops and pulls the toothbrush from his mouth. After spitting into the sink, he wipes his mouth and meets my eyes in the large wall mirror.

  He stills, licks his lips, and closes his eyes.

  "Close the curtain, Sid," he orders in a strained voice.

  Having seen the intensity in his eyes before he closed them, I don't argue. I close the curtain and wait for him to leave.

  Xavier

  She's trying to fucking kill me.

  It's bad enough my mother is up to her antics—watching every interaction Sid and I have, moving her into my room, and I don't even want to know what's up with the silent exchanges I see between them.

  Now, Sid is naked, wet, and all fired up in my bathroom. It took more willpower than I thought existed to stop myself from ripping the shower curtain off the pole. Just the thought of pulling her out of that shower and against me has my dick hard, making changing out of my clothes and into pajama bottoms an uncomfortable ordeal.

  Christ, I need to get my shit together. And what the fuck was I thinking just barging in while she's showering? She's up here trying to get away from a guy who has a date with my fist and I can't keep my ass out of her personal space or my mind from conjuring up erotic scenes.

  Get your shit together, I mentally scold, yanking back the thick dark red cover on the bed and slipping between the cool sheets.

  With my shoulders propped up by three pillows, I close my eyes and lay my head back against the oak headboard. Taking deep breaths, I concentrate on reminding my dick we aren't twenty anymore. We're nearly thirty-eight and need to show some damn restraint.

  The bathroom door opens and her sweet floral smell wafts out before she emerges with a scowl on her face, brushing through her long hair.

  Instinctively, I scan her body. The smiley face shorts make me grin. She's always wearing something funny or cute. The t-shirts with funny sayings, crazy print leggings, and shorts like these.

  "Don't look so satisfied with yourself," she scolds, pointing at me with her brush.

  Her arm now out of the way, I can read her shirt, and I fucking hate it.

  "Eyes up here, you pervy hairball," she orders, using the brush to point at her face.

  "If I get my hands on that shirt, I'm burning it," I growl.

  She gasps, covering her chest with her arms.

  "You will not touch one thread of this shirt, or any of my clothing."

  She retreats into the bathroom and emerges moments later, sans brush and hair braided down her back. Stopping at the foot of the bed, she places her hands on the footboard.

  "Do you really need three pillows?" she asks, raising a brow.

  "Maybe," I respond.

  "You need to give at least one up for the pillow divider," she informs, pushing off the footboard and coming to her side of the bed.

  "A pillow divider?" I ask with a laugh.

  "Uh, yeah," she quips, lifting the cover and slipping underneath.

  "Not happening," I say. "This is a California King. The bed is big enough I could spread eagle and still not touch you."

  "Please, keep your eagle together. No one needs to see that," she teases.

  "Just go to sleep, Sidra. We're both adults. I'm pretty sure we can sleep in the same bed without a pillow divider."

  "I'm just warning you. Any part of you touches me, it's coming back a bloody stub."

  Chuckling, I say, "I'll keep that in mind, but no matter how big I am, I doubt it could reach you from the other side of this bed."

  It's silent for about a minute before she bursts into laughter.

  Fuck her laugh is amazing.

  "You're an idiot," she proclaims before falling silent once more.

  It takes about fifteen minutes before her breathing evens out and I'm sure she's sleeping. It takes five minutes after that for me to realize I'm still sporting a half chub. I press my palms into my eyes and roll to my side, facing away from her.

  Falling asleep turns out to be a challenge, but I finally succumb.

  Chapter Ten

  Sidra

  Holy heat wave, it's so hot and I'm so tired. Why am I so hot?

  Kicking, I try to get the covers off my body, but there's no cover.

  Why the hell is it so hot?

  My back is sweating and drops are forming between my breasts.

  "Stop kicking," Xavier mumbles.

  A heavy weight lands against my legs, preventing any chance of me falling back to sleep.

  Finally, I understand the source of the heat. Xavier is wrapped around me, his chest to my back, chin on my head, and arm draped over my side.

  My eyes snap open.

  "Sleeper Creeper, keep your hands to yourself," I exclaim, pulling his hand off my boob.

  "Shhh, sleeping," he says with a yawn.

  My chest and neck flush with heat.

  "Oh my God! Your body is like the fires of Mordor," I cry, trying to shove him off.

  He doesn't move.

  "Get off me before the skin melts off my body." I give another hard shove.

  "Did you just Lord of the Rings me?" he asks, sounding fully awake, but still not moving.

  "Yes, Lord Sauron, I did. Now, go forge the one ring with someone else," I complain, trying to get his arm off and slip away.

  Instead, he tightens it around my body, palm flat on my stomach. Instinctively, I suck in my stomach, while also trying to twist away from him.

  "You're crazy," he sighs and continues, "and it's definitely my kind of crazy."

  I still at his words and furrow my brow.

  His hand slips up my stomach, stopping just beneath my left breast. The length of his body presses closer to mine. I close my eyes, trying to decide if I want to stop him or beg him to keep going.

  With a swipe of his thumb, he brushes my under boob. Every muscle in my body tenses as a burning throb starts between my legs. The fires of Mordor have moved well below my Middle Earth. I clench my thighs together, fighting against the desire.

  In a swift move, he buries his face in my neck, the tickle of his beard and soft heat of his lips pushing for surrender. Xavier runs his nose over my skin.

  "What do you smell like?" he asks in a whisper against my neck, his words branding my flesh.

  "H—"

  Three knocks on the door stop me from answering and bring me out of my lust-filled haze.

  I shove his hand off me as the door opens and his mother enters. Xavier lifts his head.

  Blatantly looking us over, she grins wide and says, "I thought I heard you two awake."

  "What do you need—?"

  "You two look awfully comfy," she interrupts.

  Groaning, I elbow Xavier.

  "Is there a reason you barged in here?" Xavier asks, finally rolling off me.

  "Oh," she says innocently, putting a hand to her chest, "you know what? I don't even remember."

  She shakes her head.

  "I'll let you two get back to…" she pauses, raking her eyes over us again, "get back to it."

  With a self-satisfied grin, she slips out of the room and closes the door.

  "Your mom is—"

  "Easy, tiger, that's my mom," he cuts me off.

  I sit up and stretch my arms over my head.

  "Yeah, but…" I yawn, "she's i
nsane."

  "Thought you loved her," he teases, poking me in the rib with his finger.

  "I'm not ticklish," I disclose, dropping my arms back to my sides. "And I do love her, but I don't know how you handle her on a daily basis."

  I place my feet on the floor, my ass on the edge of the bed.

  "I don't live with my mother," he says to my back.

  "Sure you don't, momma's boy."

  Xavier grabs me around my waist and I scream as he pulls me back to the bed. I fight to get away, my arms and legs flailing.

  "What'd you call me?"

  He pins me to the bed by my wrists with one leg over both of mine.

  "Really?" I raise my brow and purse my lips. "Of all the things I call you, that's the one you're seeking revenge for?"

  "My sisters are constantly picking and have most of my life. Now, you get the punishment on their behalf as well."

  "That's not fair," I argue. "What are you doing?"

  He snuggles his body against mine.

  "Melting your skin off with my hotness."

  "You're an idiot," I say between laughter and fighting to get free.

  All laughter flees when his hand traces down my arm.

  Licking his bottom lip, his eyes come to mine and hold them with such intensity, I begin to breathe harder.

  His hand slides along the skin of my arm, the side of my left breast, and over my ribs before reversing back up my body. When his hand reaches my wrist, he slips it into mine. Entwining both sets of our fingers, he shifts over and between my legs.

  Like the slut I am, I open them without hesitation.

  He draws our clasped hands just above my head, his forearms taking most of his weight. Our eyes remain locked until he bends and presses his mouth to mine.

  The soft touch of his mouth sends a thousand tingles across my skin. The tip of his tongue touches my lip, gaining immediate access, and plunges inside.

  All softness gone, he immerses me in his kiss and pushes his hard body into mine. Every sense fills with Xavier—his scent, taste, the way his beard rubs against my face, the feel of his body, the soft growls rumbling up from his chest.

  I tighten my hands in his and return the kiss, pressing my hips up. The silent invitation is given, but instead of taking it, he pulls his mouth from mine. He drops his head to my shoulder for just a moment before rolling off me.