She interrupted me, “Maddox made me suck Viper’s dick.”
“What?” That… she was joking, right? She had to be joking. If she wasn’t, that was the first I’d heard of it, and I certainly planned on having some words with my dear brother. “You’re kidding.”
Lola shook her blonde head. “I’m not. He was in one of the lounges, watching porn. A threesome, I think. Two dudes and one girl, go figure. I think he got some ideas from it, because—”
I held up my free hand, stopping her from saying anything else. I’d heard all I needed to, trust me. Watching porn on one of the big TVs in the house… yeah, that sounded like Maddox. Making Lola go down on Viper while he watched, now that was something that was a bit harder to swallow.
Did Maddox know they were together? Or were they together because Maddox had basically forced them to be?
And then, of course, I wondered: did it matter which came first?
“I think I need to have words with my brother,” I remarked, dropping her hand as I got up. I adjusted the suit jacket on my chest, running a hand down it and tugging at the bottom hem to pull it flat and get out the wrinkles that had appeared while I’d sat there with her.
“Yes,” Lola spoke, using a mockingly serious tone, “go have words. Lots of words. Lots of intense, manly words.”
I shot her a look. After everything I’d discovered this morning, I think I was reacting pretty damn well. Still, I was not above punishing her if she acted out. She seemed like she’d like to be punished, anyway. Starting the walk to the door, I shot back, “Careful with that tongue, Lola, otherwise I might have to show you how to properly use it.”
The mischievous glint in her eyes as I left gave me a certain smug satisfaction.
I emerged in the hall, my destination the kitchen. I would talk to my brother the next time I saw him; I knew him well enough to know that, if I chose to wake him up to speak with him, he’d be liable to grab a knife out of his dresser and try stabbing me with it.
Really, it had happened before. He was not a morning person at all.
Which was why I was so shocked to see my brother up and awake in the kitchen when I got back, making coffee. He wore nothing but pants, the tattoos on his back and chest evident with every move he made.
Viper stood off to the side, his arms crossed before him, trying not to stare at him.
I looked between them, studied both Viper’s posture and the easygoing way my brother sailed through the kitchen this morning. It was so unlike him, I decided to not bring up what I’d seen, the talks I’d had with Viper and Lola. With Maddox acting so strangely, you never knew how he’d react, especially if I brought up the fact that he’d watched Lola go down on Viper without informing me.
I mean, I wasn’t my brother’s keeper, but he kind of needed one.
No, I’d talk to him later about it. Not now. Now I would simply stand there and watch him while wondering what the hell had woken him up so goddamned early. Did hell freeze over while I wasn’t looking?
Chapter Ten – Maddox
I wanted to make a big fuss, but I knew better, so I kept my head down for a while, doing my best to steer clear of that girl and act quiet around my brother. The fucking girl I couldn’t seem to get out of my head.
Keeping away from Sylvester wasn’t too hard; I knew he was pissed at me for taking Lola out of this house and bringing her to the club, and I also knew that when he got pissed, he was like a whole different person. His logic could sometimes fly out of the window and never be seen again.
But Lola? Fuck, man, how was I supposed to hold back when I kept replaying that night in my head over and over? Seeing her all dressed up, watching her beautiful face light up with a smile that, for once, wasn’t crazy-looking. She’d had fun with me, before the boys had shown up and ruined our fun.
And then Mina. Mina, Mina. That one didn’t take no for an answer, which I could respect, but fuck it, it was worth it. Letting her grind on me, letting those lips find mine as they used to all the time—if only to let Lola see it, see her all over me. Because what happened next had been something out of a dream.
Lola and Mina had gotten into it, right on the dance floor, right in front of me, and it was something that kept me up at all hours of the night. Having two girls fight over me? It was better than I ever imagined it being, and if I was honest, I’d imagined it before. What guy didn’t? Two girls, wrestling—usually winding up naked—all for me.
Of course, Lola and Mina didn’t lose their clothes, which was unfortunate, but it was all so intense, I didn’t even notice at the time.
Lola had fucking headbutted Mina so hard she’d fallen to the floor in a daze. I mean, come on. You didn’t get more badass than that.
This was the girl that killed my baby brother. I often tried to remind myself of that, but it seemed like as more days passed, the harder it was to remember that fact. It had become so hard, in fact, for me to remember that, and I more often than not found myself forgetting.
How fucked up was that? Lola killing Mario wasn’t something I should ever forget, and yet my dick and my thoughts were not in tune with logic. But, you know what? Whatever. Sylvester was the one who stuck to boring logic. Me? I let my emotions run wild at any given opportunity, so why should I let myself get caught up in my head with these conflicting feelings?
Lola was hot. Lola was a killer, literally. Lola was my kind of crazy, and seeing her put Mina in her place was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I wanted to fuck her.
And so, it was with that thought in mind that I finally went to look for her in the house, days after the club incident. I’d stayed away from her so long every muscle in my body was itching to feel her skin against mine, my cock twitching in my pants with anticipation.
It took me a while to find her. She was at the piano, Mike hovering near her, her eyes closed as her fingers worked the keys. She did have talent, I’d give her that. She knew her way around a piano, and that voice… oh, that voice was something else. Even I had to admit that she sounded like an angel.
And even I was smart enough to know she didn’t want to.
Lola did not want to be an angel. She didn’t want to look like one or sound like one, and after everything she’d been through, I couldn’t blame her. I used to think my childhood was fucked up, being a Luciano, born into a family where you learned how to kill someone when you were eight years old. Lola’s hell was a different place, and knowing her parents had let it happen all those years… well, let’s just say I was glad they were dead.
But also kind of sad, because it meant I couldn’t bring their destruction forth.
Her brother, who was still out there in the world? Oh, I’d make sure to save my best knives for his flesh and tape his screams so Lola could listen to them whenever the fuck she wanted. Mark my words: her brother would get his. I’d make sure of it.
I moved near the piano, unable to take my eyes off the blonde, who was lost in her own world of music. She wasn’t singing; I knew she didn’t like to grace the world with her voice. It reminded her too much of her parents, the things they would force her to do when she was younger. The piano reminded her of them too, so I had no idea why she played it so much.
Maybe she was wishing she could go back and change things, end her brother like she had ended her parents. Or maybe she was wishing everything was different. I knew I did.
My legs stopped when I stood on the opposite side of the grand piano. Its black, shiny top mirrored the light above, and I dutifully ignored Mike. There was no way I’d ever be left alone with her again, I knew. Mike was here now, a lot more often than before. I guess my brother thought it was better he guarded Lola instead of searching for Tony? I don’t know, but it was annoying.
Okay, yes, going to the club had been foolish, but we were fine. No one turned up dead. I’d seen a catfight between Lola and Mina, so I’d call that a win.
I stood there, for I couldn’t say how long, listening to Lola play. She had
an easy way about her. Even with her eyes closed, she knew exactly where the keys were. She played like a master at it, someone who spent hours each day doing it. This piano hadn’t seen this much use since our mother was alive, and even then, she really only played it when she was bored.
Like many things, you see, the piano had been a flitting fancy of hers. The only thing that hadn’t been a flitting fancy was her love for my father, but look where that got her. Dead. Surely I could take that to heart. For people like us, love was our ruin.
As I stared at Lola, struggling with how badly I wanted to feel her body writhing beneath mine, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would be mine.
Was I capable of love? I knew damned well I could make it, but being in love, being devoted to someone else… it never suited me. It never sounded appealing, and I sure as shit shouldn’t be debating this when it was the girl who’d killed my baby brother. Alas, I was. I was caught in this trap, somehow, and a part of me wanted to escape.
The other part of me wanted to punish Lola for making me feel this way, for giving me these feelings.
“You play like shit,” I muttered, causing Lola’s fingers to halt and her eyes to snap open, their deep blue hue on me. Hey, I wasn’t fucking Don Juan. Romance and compliments and declarations of love just weren’t my thing, and they never would be. But I had the feeling Lola wouldn’t so much mind all that.
Her full, luscious and oh so tempting lips curled into a smile as she stared at me. Though I wasn’t beside her, though there was still a full piano between us, I could feel the heat flooding my body with all the possibilities of everything we could do together. The fucking. The killing. She and I could rule this city’s streets while my father and Sylvester handled the more delicate tasks.
“Liar,” she said, saying nothing else as she continued to grin at me. That grin, those lips… oh, they gave me ideas. Ideas that were currently getting my dick hard.
Just a smile. Just one fucking smile was all it took from her. How the hell was that possible? Such a far stretch from where we started, when I’d hated her guts more than anything else in the world, when I dreamed of strangling her with her own intestines and jerking off to the sounds of her screams.
Now I dreamed of fucking her… and not killing her afterward. How messed up was that?
Pretty fucked up, especially for Mad Maddox. Now, it seemed, I was only mad about the girl.
I wanted to deny her, wanted to say something smart, but all I could come up with right then was “Maybe.” That was as much of an admission as Lola would ever get out of me. If she wanted a declaration, she would have to go to Sylvester, not me. My brother was better at accepting and declaring his feelings than I was.
I pushed away from the piano, inching around it until I came upon her and the bench. I stuck my hands in my pockets, the only thing I could do to keep them off her. Her posture was straight, her long blonde hair flowing down her back. She wore a satiny shirt paired with dark leggings. She looked… well, she looked good no matter what she wore, honestly.
When I said nothing, Lola spoke, “Is there something you want to say to me, Maddox, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me like a slack-jawed idiot?” Her words cut, their tone harsh and acrimonious, but they were said that way on purpose, I knew. She wanted to get a rise out of me.
And she would.
I took one hand out of my pockets, and within another moment, I had my fingers curled around the back of her neck, over her hair. I lifted her up, getting her to her feet, and dragging her backward, slamming her against the tall windowpane nearest us. They were floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in a bunch of natural light. Her front was against the glass, her head turned awkwardly to the side with my hand still around the back of her neck.
Lola still grinned, even though she must be uncomfortable. “There he is,” she whispered. “The Maddox I know.”
I stood behind her, my frame towering over hers as I moved closer, as close as I could stand while still keeping hold of her neck. I leaned my head down, burying my nose in her hair as I hissed, “I never told you how hot you are when you’re jealous.”
Lola practically purred out her reply, “Oh, yeah? Maybe you should, then.”
“I loved watching you put Mina in her place,” I said, grinding my midsection against her ass, feeling my cock twitch and harden. Mike didn’t exist in the room anymore; it was just Lola and me. “I do wonder, though, if I went to her again, what would you do?” I had a feeling, of course, but I wanted to hear her say it. I needed to hear it aloud.
Lola whispered back the truth we both knew: “I’d kill her and box up her head as a present for you.” She added a bit of detail that made me smirk. I could definitely appreciate the sentiment. How thoughtful.
My other hand found her side, fingers digging into her skin beneath her satiny shirt. “Why so jealous, Lola?” I wasn’t complaining, because a jealous Lola was a hot Lola. I guess I was just fucked up like that, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments, sticking to her silence. She did, I noticed, rub her ass from side to side, further stoking the flame inside me she had started. Eventually, though, she broke her silence and murmured, “Because I don’t want that dick touching any other girl but me.”
“Possessive, aren’t you?”
I could see her grin in the reflection of the window. “Don’t act like you’re not just as possessive over me, hotshot.”
Her words riled me up, but even so, they were true. If I went out to a club to find her riding some random dude’s dick, we’d have a problem. More specifically, the random dick would have a problem, and by that I meant I’d probably cut it off and feed it to him.
So, yeah, okay, she was right there.
“Maybe,” she spoke quietly, “you should remind me just how possessive you are.” It was as close to begging as I’d get from Lola, as much of a fuck me right here and now she’d ever say. She truly was perfect for me, and that realization hit harder than a bullet.
“Maybe I should,” I agreed, releasing my hold on her only to reach for my belt. Lola didn’t try to push off the glass, nor did she try to turn around. Our house was far enough off the road that no one would see me fucking her against the glass, but even if it wasn’t, I didn’t care. Let the whole world watch. Let me take a page out of Roman and Carter’s book.
My cock was steel when I released it, its length thick and veiny and ready to push into her and feel her tight cunt wrapped around it. My hands went to her leggings next, yanking them down just below her ass. I gave her white cheeks a hard slap before spreading them apart and positioning myself just before her entrance.
Before pushing in, I curled a hand around her body, holding onto her neck from the front, my arm snaked upwards between her tits. I held onto her hard, quite roughly, but I knew she liked it. I could feel the way she squirmed against me—and it wasn’t to escape. It was to tell me to get inside of her and fuck her already.
So that’s what I did.
With a single thrust of my hips, I pushed my cock as deep into her as I could go, hearing her cry out a muffled sound. Music to my fucking ears. She breathed hard already, as did I, and when we were connected like this, it was as if the entire world faded away, and there was nothing but her. Lola and me.
God, it was so fucked up how badly I wanted her, how approving I was of her jealousy and her desires. This girl… how could I still hate her, even after what she did? She fit with us so well, so fucking well I’d feel her loss for years after she was gone.
For she would. My father would either force Sylvester or me to kill her, or he’d do it himself. I doubted countless arguments from me and my brother would ever change his mind. Lola had killed his youngest son, after all.
But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now was the time to fuck this girl so hard and so fast she was left breathless. Breathless and full of my cum.
Every time I withdrew my hips, it was like her body
didn’t want my cock to leave it. I could feel her inner core tightening each time she let out a breathy moan, all with my hand still wrapped around that slender, gorgeous throat. I was sure we looked a sight, but Mike could fuck off. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen me fuck Lola, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Her body felt too good on mine. Her body was like fire, hot and molten, igniting things inside me I didn’t even know existed before her. I might tease her, might mock her and say I would go to Mina or find another girl, but no other girl could ever be Lola. No other cunt would ever fit around my length like hers did. No one else could ever make the sounds she did or carry the crazy glint in their eyes like her.
Lola. There was only ever Lola.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure building inside of me, on the feeling of my cock dragging in and out of her tight core, her ass pressed against me when I pushed myself as deep as I could go. My heart beat fast in my chest, and I knew without a doubt that this was where I always wanted to be. Here, with Lola. Inside her. Next to her. Whatever.
Lola let out a deep-throated moan, her body starting to tense in my grip. My fingers curled around her neck tighter as I picked up my pace behind her. I knew she was about to come, and I wanted it. I wanted to feel her shake, to hear her unbridled cry of bliss, and I wanted it to be all for me.
And it was. When she came, when an orgasm nearly swept her off her feet, I held her up. I fucked her harder, drinking in the sound she made and the way her muscles spasmed. I devoured the sounds of our sex and the feeling of her cunt on my cock. I almost felt like losing it, too—but I forced myself to think of something else, let my mind wander a bit so I could revel in her body just a bit longer.
Crooked Heart (A Death So Sweet Book 2) Page 17
