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LUCIAN
Star and I are back in my sacred music room, the one I’ve never allowed another person to enter. Not even Anton and Marku. Since we can’t meet at school and the sofa smells something awful from the debauchery it’s endured, I have no choice. I mean, I don’t even like to see Star on that sofa, much less sit on it with her.
I liked it even less when I caught her in the Village the other day. Fuck me, but I thought I was seeing things when we left Mamoun’s and spotted the girls across the street.
In the ’hood,mafiewomen and girls roam the streets in relative safety, but when I saw them, alone and vulnerable, my stomach dropped to the floor. I glanced over at Marku. The horror on his face matched my insides.
Okay, I’m not insane.
Even if that’s what the girls seemed to think. Instead of being mortified at getting caught roaming so far out of our jurisdiction, they were indignant. I still don’t get it. Sunnyside is Romanian. Brighton Beach is Bratva. Bay Ridge is Italian. Washington Heights is Dominican. And Chinatown is well…Chinese. Anywhere else is up for grabs. And they could have been literally grabbed right off the street.
What’s more worrisome was their total lack of concern, as if this wasn’t their first time out. Which begs the question, where else have they been? Jealousy simmers in my gut. And are they still going out, despite the harsh warnings Marku and I gave them?
I glance over at Star, her head bent over her laptop. Silky strands of hair hang down, half hiding her face. Streaks of white blonde shimmer in the dappled light streaming in through the window.
Unaware of me, her smooth forehead wrinkles in concentration. Her lips pucker to one side. She clasps her plump bottom lip between her teeth and I stifle a groan.
Fuck. What the hell is she doing to me?
I glance down and get my answer. My sweats are tented in the crotch. No way am I going to stand up anytime soon. Should’ve worn heavy denim jeans ’cause this girl drives me fucking crazy.
Of course, the irony is that she hates me more than ever now.
I moodily stare across the table at her. She’s got more spunk than I gave her credit for. And stubbornness. A stubborn streak a mile wide has cropped up. Ever since her brother left. The reminder that she lives alone, with only her mother as protection, unsettles me. Recently, I’ve had these odd surges of protectiveness toward Star and it’s got nothing to do with my promise to Cristo.
She purses her glossy pink lips as she flips the page of the book and peers down, squinting her eyes slightly as she re-reads a phrase. God knows what she finds fascinating about a book with characters named Puck and Bottom. Christ. It doesn’t matter, though, ’cause my cock pulses from watching her move her lips around. It sees them and knows what they could do, imagines what they would feel like wrapped around its length.
Cheeks hollowed out.
Long pulls.
Eyes on me.
Begging for guidance. For praise.
Hell yeah.
Combined with that sassy innocence and… Oh, fuck, do I want that. My balls feel heavy with the urge to spill inside her and coat her womb. There’s a hard, undeniable tug of need, a need almost as strong as the need to get my family name back on top.
I brutally stamp it down, but it still leaves me with an uneasy feeling swimming in my chest. I’m irritated by how enthralled I am with her, especially now that she doesn’t seem to know I exist.
Star grabs a pencil, flicks the tip with her pink tongue and scratches something in the margin of the book.
Oh, for Chrissake…
I growl low.
On top of being generally sexually frustrated, I’m equally frustrated by the sheet of study questions she slapped on the desk when she first strolled into the room. These questions are meant to prepare me for the English test, but they’re ridiculous. Questions like what does Puck do to Bottom and what does that say about Puck’s attitude toward humans? Who gives a fuck about a fairy and a man namedBottom? And why doesn’t Star notice that I’ve abandoned the stupid study guide and spent the past five minutes staring at her?
A few more long minutes pass. I shift in my chair. It makes a loud creaking sound.
Finally sensing my rapt attention, Star stiffens slightly. The pulse at her throat quickens, making the tiny beauty mark above it flicker.
A reaction.
Fucking finally.
She looks up at me warily and demands, “What?”
