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He brushed my cheek with his thumb and looked at me, really looked at me. “I’ve been played, Dita. I thought I was the puppeteer.” Ares shook his head. “I’ve never been more wrong. You’ve had the power all along.”
I rolled my lips reveling in the deviation of temperature of the parts where he touched me and those he didn’t. It was definitely warmer where he did.
“One chance.” I saw his face light up with hope, and dim when I gave him the ultimatum. “I’ll give you one chance if you attend salsa class every Friday evening. You want to use my body? At least let me use yours, too.”
“Babe,” he huffed a laugh, and looked away and back at me again, amused and a silver sparkle in his eyes. “You want me to dance?”
I nodded, preparing for rejection. I tilted my chin and lifted a brow, exuding attitude where it concerned Ares. But then I watched his signature smirk.
“Deal!” he said, and I squealed when he threw me over his shoulder.
“Put me down! Anyone can see my ass.” I wriggled upside down, looking at his own tight butt and the heels of his red Nikes.
“That’s what you get for wearing practically nothing.” He slapped my behind.
There was no one around; it was just the principle. Because Ares fucking Volt was about to get exactly what he wanted. Again.
“Now let’s get you home.”
35
ARES
Cary gulped his beer down when he saw me enter the kitchen. From my black track pants, clean white socks inside my squeaky new sneakers, I chose my outfit carefully, with Dita in mind. Even my tank, which was loose enough so Dita could get her hands underneath if she thought my engaging personality was too much.
I wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t exactly going to be on my best behavior today if she allowed me to get dirty.
Cary appreciatively pursed his lips. “You look nice for the gym.”
Dad had infiltrated himself during the past week. It was like we’d switched family members.
We weren’t suddenly all hugs and shit, but I was working on liking him. He was a lifeline to Dita, and well, maybe I should finally give him a chance after all. Rio seemed to get along with him. Hence the way he was able to comment on my wardrobe without earning a punch to the face.
“Cary, Cary, Cary,” Rio drily addressed him with a wide smile. “Your son showered, brushed his teeth three times, and manscaped.”
I cupped my junk and looked at Rio awkwardly.
He looked back at me with a smug smile, thinking, I know you’ve trimmed the jungle.
I rolled my eyes. Exaggerate much.
Twin telepathy was weird like that. I shouldn’t have been surprised he knew I’d shaved.
“Well, the tree does look bigger without the bush,” Cary eyed me, the same cheeky grin on his face. For fuck’s sake. “Date, then?”
“Salsa,” I murmured, and slipped my wallet into the back pocket of my track pants.
“Ah, and there goes a condom or two.”Rio snickered.
“Shut it,” I lamely retorted and shot him an unamused glance.
“Now, now, boys,” Cary mediated, naturally, as if he’d done it his entire life. “Maybe I’m getting old or senile, but uh, I’m not catching on.”
I clucked my tongue and faced them with a big exhale. “I’m going salsa dancing.”
Cary cupped one ear and leaned in. He even squinted one eye like he’d tune in better that way. “I’m also going deaf, apparently.”
“I said I’m going salsa dancing! Jesus Christ, I’m going fucking salsa dancing.” I waved my arms and paced the kitchen. I wasn’t so sure about it now that I’d told these guys about my plans. “I wished you’d just write a song or something, so I could sweep her off her feet way easier.”
