It’s maddening how in control he always is. I want to see his resolve shatter. Feel his heavy hands crush my body to his while he’s kissing me. I dip back in, running the tip of my tongue across the seam of his lips. “Milo,” I whisper between kisses, “do you want me to stop?”
“Laura, don’t stop,” Ollie mutters from behind me. “Milo, you need this, we need this.” I pull back anyway. There’s no way I would force him to do anything he wasn’t ready for.
“There’s no hurry Milo, I’m not going anywhere.”
Milo’s nostrils flare as he pushes out a heavy breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, either of you,” comes his pain filled reply. He slams his head back against his hand and the pillow beneath it.
“You aren’t going to hurt anyone Milo, I wish you’d just trust yourself.” Ollie doesn’t hide the frustration in his words.
“You don’t know that. I could break her bones if I squeezed her too hard. How would I live with myself after that? Hell, Ares and Dante would probably kill me anyways.”
Ollie groans, his forehead tapping on the center of my back. “Milo, you haven’t hurt anyone since you first manifested, and that was an accident.”
“Stop talking about it like it was someone else Ollie, it was you. I hurt you.”
“Only because I hadn’t come into my abilities yet Milo. I promise you wouldn’t hurt me now, you’re just too afraid to even try.”
I’m still between them, and both of their words come as a shock. No wonder Milo is so cautious. I never knew he hurt Ollie.
“We’re part of the same Infinity Milo. Our powers are not effective on each other. The only exception would be Dante, and that’s only because when he shifts he’s a real fucking tiger. Your strength, my fire, it can’t hurt either of us, or Laura.”
It’s definitely not the first time they’ve had this conversation.
“I’m scared!” Milo shouts, his hand flying out from behind his head as he shakes his fist in the air. “You don’t know what that was like, I ruptured your fucking spleen and we were just goofing off. You had to have surgery.”
“And I never once blamed you Milo, none of us ever blamed you. And as you can see, I’m fine. But you have been punishing yourself ever since.” Ollie sits up. “You play football like it’s a fucking trial of not using your strength, just so you can make sure you have control over that part of yourself.”
I pull away from Milo, not wanting to be between them anymore. I don’t like that they’re fighting. I can’t believe their raised voices haven’t brought Ares or Dante up here.
As soon as I sit up Milo does as well, punching his fist into the bed as he does. “You don’t know that, nothing about our group is normal. And your ability could hurt us—if you caught the house on fire, we would all burn Ollie. There are always exceptions to the rule.”
“Jesus.” Ollie shakes his head in disbelief. “Yeah, and if you knocked down a wall and the roof fell in, that might hurt us too. But that’s not what I’m talking about Milo, and you know it.”
I ease toward the end of the bed, completely uncomfortable with the conflict. My mother and I rarely ever fought. I always did as expected, and she’s never been a yeller. I don’t know what to do, or how to help de-escalate the situation. Should I go get Ares, or Dante?
“You want to know what I know?” Milo pauses. “I know it’s not fucking worth it to risk it.”
“Oh, but you can knock heads with a whole football team?” Ollie’s face is drawn tight, his eyes fiercely narrowed on Milo. I could probably sneak out of the room without them even noticing. I take a step toward the door.
Milo throws his hands in the air. “Because I don’t give a shit about anyone on that field. I don’t have to worry about losing control. This,” Milo gestures to me, proving he does in fact still know I’m here, then jabs his finger in Ollie’s direction, “makes me fucking crazy, I feel like I’m going to Hulk out. I can’t control my emotions with you two, either of you.”
“You are the only one that thinks you always need to be in control. Isn’t that what being in an Infinity is about? Having our abilities under control? Especially, now that we have Laura?” Some anger melts out of Ollie’s voice, leaving him sounding drained and disappointed.
Milo opens his mouth like he might continue to argue, but Dante interrupts him, “That’s enough.” That’s all he says, two simple words.
My arms are crossed over my stomach as he walks over to me and wraps his arm around my back, guiding me from the room. Instead of watching where we’re going, he’s looking over his shoulder watching Ollie and Milo.
As soon as we’re downstairs, Dante takes a hold of my shoulders and looks at me. “Sorry we let that go on for so long with you there. We thought maybe this time it would be different.” Dante gives a shrug, his lips twisting.
“Yeah, it didn’t seem like the first time they had that conversation. It’s okay, I just didn’t know what to say or do to help.”
“There’s nothing any of us can do. Milo will have to face his fear at some point. It would be better for everyone if that was sooner, rather than later,” Ares adds. I glance around Dante and see him sitting in a folding lawn chair, his laptop perched on his knees.
“You don’t need to get dressed here, we’ll get dressed at the venue,” Ollie informs me, pulling my garment bag out of the mostly empty closet.
“You’re already dressed,” I note, looking over his tartan patterned slacks and dark button-up shirt. He looks amazing, trendy, and hip. Ollie’s hair is pulled back, showing off the perfect symmetry of his face.
His light green eyes are dancing as he tells me, “Yeah, but I’m not getting my hair done and shit.”
“Ah, what?” I place my hands on my hips, this is the first I’ve heard of this nonsense.
“Please don’t be mad. Our moms wanted to do all the girly shit together.” Ollie gives me puppy dog eyes, his full lips in a sweet pout.
“I could punch you,” I growl, even though it’s clearly not true. I’d be more prone to kiss him than anything else.
He lets a small smirk form on his mouth, but schools his features quickly. “You’re breaking my heart, Muenster.” He actually holds his hand over his chest and has the nerve to pretend to sniffle.
“I’m gonna break something,” I grouse under my breath.
“You love me,” Ollie singsongs, proving he knows I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? I could have… I don’t know, prepared?” Now I’m the one pouting.
“The only thing you would have done would be freak out,” Ollie argues, his brows rising, daring me to challenge him. “It’s just some hair and makeup.” He at least looks apologetic when he delivers the rest of the news.
“Oliver,” I grit out.
He flees with my dress bag, not even looking back. “Leaving in five,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his escape.
I continue to grumble under my breath, snatching my shoebox from the floor. “What if I don’t want my hair and makeup done, huh? Nobody even bothered asking me.”
“Then tell them no, Cara.” I look over and find Ares leaning against the doorframe. I take a minute to admire him. Wearing brown, distressed looking wingtip shoes and his legs crossed at the ankle, the hem of his maroon pants sit at the exact perfect length and fit. With the way he’s leaning I can see how well the pants fit across his backside. My gaze slides farther up, seeing a matching maroon jacket. The color looks amazing against his tanned skin, especially with his dark features. I can just make out the cuffs of his black button-down peeking out of his sleeves where his hands are balled into loose fists at his sides. Higher still, I note the top few buttons of his shirt are open, revealing his thick neck and a small bit of scruff along his jaw. Damn if he isn’t gorgeous.
His tawny brown eyes study me, and a flush steals over my cheeks as I bite the inside of my lip. Ares is like a dangerous secret everyone is dying to know. I swallow, t
rying to recall what he said. “I can’t tell them no, that would be bitchy.”
“You certainly can tell them no, I’ll tell them for you if you wish,” he states matter-of-factly.
I blow out a pent-up breath. “No, it’s okay. I’ve just never had it done before. It’s probably for the best, I have no idea how to do makeup.”
Pushing off the wall, Ares heads in my direction. I stand my ground, even though I’m tempted to take a step back. Ares getting close to me looking the way he does is not a good idea, especially when we’re supposed to be leaving soon.
“Tell them no if it’s something you don’t like.” He tilts his chin down and stares into my eyes.
“I will.” My voice is low, nearly a whisper.
“Good.” He places a chaste kiss on my temple after grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me toward him.
I’m still leaning in when he releases me and turns to exit the room, leaving me with scrambled thoughts and a desire to rub against him like a cat. “You can do this.” I give myself one last pep talk before heading out of the room and down the stairs into our empty main level.
The guys’ footsteps echo as they mill about in the kitchen. I see Milo first, he’s tugging on the sleeve of a soft gray jacket. “Holy fuck, I just had this fitted, and it’s too tight.” He lifts his elbows, showing how constricted his movements are.
“Dude, you’re bulking up like crazy,” Ollie acknowledges.
“I’m not doing anything. I haven’t even been hitting the gym.” Milo sounds incredulous.
“It’s Laura,” Ares tells him. “You haven’t bonded with her so your abilities are growing, but she’s not filtering them. What did you expect to happen?”
I step down on the next riser hard enough that they know I’m there. I’m not ready for another fight with Milo about bonding.
Dante pokes his head out of the living room. He’s eyes flash almost orange when he sees me. He continues around the wall and my mouth goes dry. Dante’s hair is mussed up in the front, falling across his forehead. There is some very short, but very masculine stubble above his lip, and across his chin and jaw. My fingers actually wiggle with the need to feel it.
His fitted, short-sleeved dark blue shirt is open at the neck with several buttons left undone, revealing his smooth skin. I’ve rarely seen Dante in anything but t-shirts, but now his shirt is tucked into a dark pair of jeans, which are cuffed at the bottom, showing off a heavy pair of black boots. The gleam of his black metal belt buckle catches my eye as he saunters over.
Dante dips his head low as he nears, giving me his customary greeting of a head bump, but his nuzzle doesn’t end there, his lips are near my ear as he makes a low growling sound in his chest. The stubble peppered on his jaw that I was longing to touch, grazes against my cheek, and I shiver.
In a flash I reach up and grab his face. Yanking it down to mine, my lips land on his biting and teasing. His large body softens at my touch, yielding to my demand.
My jaw aches and I know what’s happening, but I don’t try to stop it. As I push my tongue into Dante’s mouth, I feel the harsh points on a few of my teeth elongating. I force myself to release his face in fear that my nails would score his skin. Instead, I let my palms glide down his chest until I wrap my fingers into the top of his pants. I jerk him closer to me, our pelvises joined. I feel his hardness pressing against me and a feral growl escapes my chest.
“I’ll go start the car,” Milo offers, breaking through the animalistic fog threating to overwhelm me. I slow my savage kisses and soften my lips as I release his pants from my grip. He makes a gentle sound, almost a plea, when I pull my lips from his completely.
“I’ll take two, please.” Ollie lets out a low whistle.
“Shut up,” Dante barks, his voice harsh.
I open my eyes slowly to see the fading tiger markings disappearing from my skin, no longer worried I could cut him, I reach up and palm his cheek again. The stiffness in his posture melts immediately.
“Sorry.” I wince, even though I’m not sorry for kissing him, just the way I went about it.
Dante crowds in really closely, his lips brushing against my ear, and he growls, “I can’t wait until you know you don’t need to apologize to me, not for that. Take what you need. I love it.” I swallow a thick lump in my throat, almost panting when he pulls away.
Chapter 23
I lift my hand when a young woman with artfully applied cat-eye liner picks up a bottle of foundation and a pink makeup sponge. “Rosa,” I call, she’s seated two chairs down from me. Another woman behind her is curling her dark hair.
“Yes,”
“I really don’t want too much makeup, is that okay?” I wince, my hair already feels stiff and tacky, and I do not want my face feeling like that after plastering a bunch of goop all over it.
“Assolutamente, none, some. Whatever you like,” Rosa answers, waving her hand about easily.
Focusing on the makeup artist again, I tell her, “How about some mascara, maybe some lip gloss.”
“If you’re sure,” she replies like she thinks I’m making a mistake. I wonder, not for the first time, if this girl is like me, a synergist, or is she a norm?
We’re in a hotel room that’s been setup like a salon with three chairs. The stylists each have a large rolling cart, which makes me think this is something they do often. There’s some clanging at the door before a beep sounds. I turn to see Carolyn pushing through the door, a couple of bags in her hands. She looks frazzled. Linda leans forward, disrupting the girl in front of her. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, just running late.” She lets the door noisily fall shut behind her.
“There’s plenty of time, pour a glass of wine,” Rosa tells her, her eyes closed as the woman behind her brushes a section of her hair.
Ollie pokes his head out of the bedroom, where the guys have been holed up watching TV since we got here. “Hey Ma,” he calls out. “Muenster, Ares said not to let them do anything to your face.”
I blow out a breath and the hair curling down over my shoulder doesn’t even budge it has so much product in it. “Leave her alone Ollie, she can do whatever she wants.” I grin over at Carolyn as she dismisses him. She winks in response. She and Ollie are so much alike.
Undeterred, he struts out of the room, leaving the double doors open. I hear the blasts of explosions from the TV—Dante’s pick, I’m sure.
“She doesn’t want that gunk all over her face.” Ollie picks up a tool that looks like a small metal spatula. He eyes me, then the tool, before setting it down. The makeup artist turns to look at him for the first time after searching her cart.
She stands a little taller, her shoulders held back to push out her breasts a little. It’s subtle, but I still notice. Unfortunately for her, Ollie doesn’t.
“See, she looks perfect.” Ollie boops my nose with the tip of his finger.
I swat his hand away. “I already told her, just mascara and lip gloss. Tell Dante to turn the TV down.”
“Dante!” Ollie shouts while still staring at me.
“What?” Dante’s deep, grumbly voice fills my ears.
I turn to face him. “You will hurt your ears, the TV is too loud.” He steps away from the door and the sound disappears.
“I didn’t think it was that loud,” Dante says, coming back out of the room. “You almost done?” His eyes study me.
“Almost.” I fake some cheer in voice. “What are the other guys doing?”
“Ares is working on the computer, and Milo is pouting,” Ollie answers.
“I am not!” Milo calls from the room. Moments later he steps into the living room and his arms are folded over his chest, making him look even bigger.
I look over at the stylist when she makes a noise, she’s looking over at the other stylists, her eyes wide like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“Ares, they’re going to put crap on her face.” Milo looks over his shoulder. I groan, which makes Ollie chuckle.
I know any second he will come out here, and probably scare the girl half to death when he goes all Dark Lord on her.
Sure enough, he stalks out the door with shadows clinging to him, even in the room flooded with light. His suit coat is off, leaving him in his fitted vest, shirt, and slacks.
The spacious room now feels small with all four of them out here staring at me. I shift in my seat, wondering if the girl is going to do my mascara or not.
“Boys, pour Carolyn a glass of wine, Laura is almost done,” Rosa announces.
“I got it Ma,” Ollie volunteers quickly. He rushes over to a small bar against the wall and fills a tall-stemmed glass with white wine, sneaking a sip off the top that all the mothers pretend not to notice. I roll my eyes.
Finally, my stylist steps up close to me. She has a small disposable mascara wand in one hand and a black tube in the other. “Okay, look up. Try not to blink.” Under her breath she adds, “Girl, I don’t know if they’re your cousins or brothers, or what, but hook a sister up.”
A husky chuckle falls from my lips, surprising me. I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy at her proclamation. “Not cousins, or brothers, just mine.” I don’t bother to keep my voice down.
“Damn.” She pauses and looks me over, then looks at the guys all hovering around the room. “Damn,” she raises her hand to give me a high five, “I’m jealous as hell, but I ain’t mad at ya.”
I’m standing in the middle of our group with Milo and Ollie on one side, and Dante and Ares on the other. We’re facing a set of double doors, about to enter the ballroom. Nervous butterflies are battling in my stomach. “Why are we going in after everyone else?”
“We have to make a splash,” Ollie pipes up grabbing my finger in front of Milo and giving them a squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s not as big of a deal as it feels like. They’ll ooh and ah over us for a few minutes, then everyone will hit the buffet.”
Infinity Chronicles Book Three Page 23