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“I don’t know how. I depend on myself.” The heaviness in her words breaks something inside of me. They’ll pay for her sadness with their blood.
“Past tense. I’m here now.” Moving my lips slightly to the right, I kiss her cheek with tiny little pecks, each one lingering longer than the last, driving her own need to surface. Her huff of frustration when I nip her chin tells me as much.
“Okay.” It’s an unsure whisper. London has no reason to believe me, but right now she’s being led by the yearning for human contact. Her desire for my lips mirrors my own, and I groan loudly when she connects her mouth with mine.
“Fuck.” My hands tighten their hold, cementing her body against me. Preventing her from pulling those plump lips from mine. She’s soft and sweet; her taste sets off a chaotic explosion of hunger that shakes me, and I can’t stop myself when I take a little more. My tongue parts her lips, sliding inside and entwining with hers.
Her touch is tentative, yet she doesn’t back away. Instead, Twirl shows her own desire with little mewls of pleasure. How she fists her own hand in my hair to keep my mouth over hers.
London’s acceptance of my dominance in this instance has me harder than steel. Almost demonic in my thirst to be buried deep inside her warmth.
“More,” she moans low, a kittenish sound that shoots straight down to my cock, and I flex against her. Give a harsh jerk that brings me back down to reality.
I will have her, but not today. Not when we can be interrupted at any moment.
Slowing the kiss down, I embed my teeth into her bottom lip for a second and pull back. Her breathing and mine is labored, chest heaving as we slowly regain our composure.
“I’m going to need you to head back inside now, Twirl. Follow that path…” I point to the left of us “…and Mariah will be there. She’ll take you back to where your family waits for brunch.”
“What about you? Where will you be?”
“I’ll be a few minutes behind, but I have eyes on you. Trust me.”
She nods, gifting me a soft smile. “I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you, beautiful.” Before she can take a single step, I press our mouths together once more and breathe her in. My nose skims the delicate skin from her lips to ear, where I pause. Kiss her pulse point. “I call you Twirl because you remind me of a ballerina. So pretty when you move, with the poise of an elegant swan. You’re very distracting, London, and I’m enjoying each moment of madness.”
8
“HOW WAS YOUR WALK?” Alton asks as soon as we enter the dining room, and I freeze up. His hand is wrapped in a dishtowel with what I can only assume is ice, and while his smile is friendly enough, I know better than to believe it. The truth is in the tightness around his eyes.
Did he notice my reaction to seeing Malcolm enter the room? Fear of his anger causes my hands to shake and for my body to want to withdraw into itself.
I couldn’t stop myself then, no matter how hard I bit the inside of my cheek when Malcolm’s eyes met my own. When his stare, so full of heat, ate me alive. Everything from last night came flooding back; his touch and the soft kisses he lay on my stomach while I poured his drink. How he took my scent into his lungs and groaned into my dress. All of it, every lustful moment hit me, while mixing with an uncontrollable horror that my family knew my secret.
But now, add to that my brother’s calculating stare, and once more my panic ensues. I know him. Alton’s thinking of ways to pin this disaster of a meeting on me.
Because with him, I am always to blame. Has been that way since Mom died a few years ago. If a glass so much as breaks in the house, even if I am not there it falls on my shoulders.
Their hate toward me makes no sense, but I no longer deny it. I’ve done nothing wrong except exist, and yet to them, it’s reason enough.
Why weren’t they like this when Mom was alive?
Why do I always feel like I’m missing a huge piece of a puzzle?
“It was a lot of fun,” Mariah answers for me before I can come up with a lie, walking toward the side of the table where Javier is waiting. “Your sister has quite the keen eye for décor—colors, and I might need her help soon. Redecorating my loft will take some time, and another female point of view will come in handy. Don’t you think, dear cousin?”
“I agree.” Malcolm enters the room from the opposite entrance. Immediately the atmosphere changes once again. This time an electrical current of desire swirls all around me, and staying in place is difficult. My body throbs in his presence, while my levels of distress lower.
I feel weirdly…safe. Something that baffles me.
His presence dominates every square inch of this room while pushing my fear back. It loosens the tightening noose, letting me breathe.
Malcolm stops at the head of the table and looks at me, then at my father. The warmth from just a few minutes prior is completely gone. “Will that be a problem, Marcus?”
No one misses how he asks my father and not the head of our family. Something that infuriates my brother, and in a sick and perverse way, causes a smidgen of giddiness to flow through me. His lack of respect for the men in my family is clear to see, and I find myself delighting in the fact that the shoe is on the other foot for once.
That they’ll experience inferiority like I do day in and day out.
