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My heart stuttered when she opened her mouth, a shrill sound vibrating from her throat. If no one was awake, they’d be by now.
I covered my mouth with hers, shutting her up. Fuck, I loved her protests, her whimpers and hard nipples cutting through her shirt, showing she loved it just as much. I kissed her with a hunger I hadn’t ever experienced before.
I needed to get out of here.
I bit her lower lip, tasting her one last time. Then I crawled off her, my fingertips grazing her taut stomach before I watched the moonlight glow on her skin. “Game on, prude.”
If this was where vendettas were made off, I understood why people thrived on them. This was a fucking high.
Dita Dominguez.
She made me float.
10
DITA
“Good morning,” I cautiously greeted one of the boys at the breakfast table, my heart in my throat as I passed him.
“Mornin’,” he grunted, looking at me from behind his mug. He pointed at his slicked back black as night hair. “From now on, I’m styling it back. No more worries that you’re talking to the asshole that is my brother.”
“I never called him an asshole,” I repelled as the coffee machine purred.
I should’ve called him much worse, I chastised myself.
I let him finger me and didn’t even call him that. I was well and truly derailed.
I woke up this morning, almost debating whether I’d dreamt it or if it was real. But then I caught the sight of his shoes, which he’d toed off before jumping into my bed. Something he probably didn’t remember doing, since they were left forgotten on the parquetry next to my bed.
While I fumed in silence, the coffee slowly dripped into my mug. Not only did the sweetness of its aroma make me smile this morning, but also Rio’s. I couldn’t deny it was tempering my nerves, having one of them treating me like he didn’t want to hold a gun against my temple.
I twitched his earlobe when I shoved a chair back to sit next to him. “So, you’re making statements with your hair?”
“I see how tense you are around him.” Rio shrugged. After taking a huge sip, he explained, "Around me, too, unless you know it’s me. I figured, why not.”
“You could’ve just un-plucked your unibrow,” I tease, smiling into my mug.
“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it? Brat!” He bumped my shoulder and winked, letting me know he was just playing.
Brat. it was better than prude.
“Well, brat-approved,” I haughtily agreed. “It’s helpful. Looks good on you, too.”
He grinned. “Of course, it looks good on me.”
I rolled my eyes. One of them had a beating heart while the other one’s was yet to be uncovered, but the twins were always going to be cut out from the same cloth. Arrogance was equal to having Volt as your last name.
Weirdly enough, it was just one stepbrother that made my belly flutter. With fear, trepidation and magnetizing electricity. But even if that last feeling wasn’t exactly wrong, it wasn’t—
No, hold on a second. It was completely wrong. Like dropping a hairdryer into your bathtub full of water kind of wrong. It could get you killed.
“So, what are your plans today?” He asked, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket and juggling it in his hands before he bit a large chunk out of it.
“Not much. It’s Sunday, after all.”
He nodded thoughtfully, finishing the entire apple, including the core, then wiped away its juices that were dripping down his chin with the back of his hand.
“You Volt’s are psycho’s, you know that? Who eats it like that?”
