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“Ripping my useless heart out when talking like that,” he groans, running his hand over my body, his tongue probing mine, making my head spin like a rollercoaster. We’re about to take things further when my stomach whines in protest and Stan chuckles.
“Can’t have you hungry,” he says with warm eyes, “I wanted to wake up earlier and make you breakfast but you beat me to it.”
“It’s not too late. You could still make it,” I purr teasingly, looking at him underneath my lashes and he grins, roughing up my bedhead even worse.
He makes me feel cared for like I’m made out of precious jewels, he can’t afford to lose. Looking at the possessive intent on his face, I pity the man who would try to steal me from him.
Not that anyone will be able to. Stan has etched himself into my very core and I know I’ve done the same for him.
“The usual?” Stan asks and I bite my lip, nodding and he turns, taking out milk and I’m wondering whether I should just give up and have him for breakfast instead when I hear my phone buzzing out in the hallway.
I forgot to take it out of my purse yesterday and I fish it out, answering quickly after noticing that there’s been several missed calls.
“Hey big brother,” I murmur, walking out into the kitchen again and Stan throws a look over his shoulder and I mouth, “Its Gautier.” Stan’s eyes narrow.
“Amber I’ve been trying to call you several this times this morning, why haven’t you answered?”
Because I was knocked out after losing my virginity last night.
“It’s Saturday. I slept in,” I murmur, leaning over the table as I admire Stan’s muscular back. His shoulders are wide, his skin smooth and tanned but there’s a crescent shaped, ugly scar on his shoulder blade, going down to his ribs.
My fingers danced over that scar yesterday. He said it came from an old knife fight. It made me feel furious that someone had dared to hurt him. I told him so and he laughed and shut me up with a thousand kisses and counted each one out loud.
There’s something kinky and forbidden about us, but sometimes it’s also deliciously sweet.
“You shouldn’t have,” Gautier continues. “You need to get out of your house. Now.”
Fingering the fan letters, I raise my brows. “What? Why?”
“Is Stanmore with you?”
“Yes...”
Stan glances at me and I give him a pale smile.
“Then get out. I’ve found out some things about him and I don’t want him anywhere near you.”
“Not you too. I’d expect this from Gina but not...”
“Let me speak,” he says in his usual arrogant tone and I sigh. “After what happened yesterday, I got concerned and looked him up and let me tell you it’s not easy finding things about him but I have this friend...”
“Just tell me what it is,” I say softly, shaking my head at my brother’s sudden overprotectiveness.
“Did you know that Stanmore’s mother was Jaqueline Du Caron?” he says and my eyes flare. I’d known she was a cellist. Not that she’d been one of the most celebrated cellists in the world. And Stan’s her son...
“N...no,” I say and Stan turns around, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and gives me a cautionary glance before filling it with water.
“And did you know he’s been in and out of juvenile since he was thirteen? That he was supposed to go to prison for years after he organized one of the biggest bank robberies in the country when he was twenty? But do you know what the sneaky bastard did?”
My hands start shaking at all this new information. “N...no.”
“He represented himself in court and managed to get such a mild punishment it’s laughable.” Gautier lets out a furious/impressed curse. “I knew he was trouble from the moment I saw him. Amber don’t you get it? He’s not a guy who came down from Colorado because he got a new job. Why would a thirty year old, financially stable man need to share a house?”
My brother’s words come out like a rushing waterfall, making me dizzy and for a second black spots dance before my eyes.
Inhaling, Gautier blurts, “He’s there because of you. Because he wants you. You need to get out...”
I tense, my eyes slowly going to Stan as he’s drinking out of the glass and I watch the water run down his throat. He puts the glass down. Firmly. His eyes go to mine and they’re hard. His mouth voracious.
