Roman doesn’t say anything. He just stares, his eyes narrowed into slits and the guy backs up, hands lifted in surrender. “Yeah. Sorry. Let me get out of your way.” He gives Roman a nervous chuckle as he moves.
I expect Roman to shove past him leaving me behind but instead, he turns back, grabs my wrist, and hauls me after him. I squeak and stumble, my body brushing up against a few of the players, but as soon as I come into contact with them, they step back. What is it about him and grabbing me by the wrist? “I’m perfectly capable of walking,” I say, but he either doesn’t hear me or chooses to ignore me.
We exit the house and find Emilio wearing a neon pink bikini top over his bare chest and string bikini bottoms over his dark blue boxer briefs. I have no idea how he manages to make it look good. But he does.
Emilio has tattoos as well and his chest piece is on full display. A gothic portrait of a woman with her hair flying back and a mix of sparrows and ravens flying around her with strands of her hair lifted in their beaks.
It’s surprisingly beautiful. When he catches me staring he rubs his chest and bites his bottom lip. His eyes become hooded and he lifts his brows in a suggestive manner. Roman steps in front of me with a growl and Emilio explodes into a fit of laughter.
I spot Dominique beside him, his shoulders shaking. His lips are pressed together and I can tell he’s fighting to contain his own laugh but in the end, he fails.
“Rome, if you could see your face right now.”
I move forward to gauge his expression but the mask he usually wears is firmly in place. “Well, uh, I’ll let you guys do your thing.” I inch around Roman and head back toward the fire, my eyes scanning around for Aaron. When I spot him, there’s a girl in his lap kissing at his neck. I can’t make out her face but…
My steps falter.
I look again and yep, it’s Sarah. The bitchy girl from earlier. Awesome.
Warm breath on my neck catches me off guard and then I hear his voice. “Looks like your boy is busy tonight.” His voice is low, his tone suggestive. “Fool. Going for that when he could have had this instead.” His fingers brush up my spine and I release an involuntary shiver.
“No one is having this,” I snap, hating what he’s implying. “Besides, we’re just friends. He can go after whoever he wants.”
Another caress, this one along the back of my hip. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Roman’s fingers tighten on my hip into an almost bruising grip as he draws me tight against his body. “What if I decided I want you?”
My breath hitches and he's still behind me, trailing his lips up the column of my exposed neck. It’s not a kiss. The touch is featherlight but it feels like he’s marking me, branding me as his. “I’d tell you to screw off.”
“Liar.”
I step away from his body, instantly missing his warmth.
“Come with me.” He twines his fingers with mine and despite knowing better, I allow him to lead me toward one of the larger cabins.
I stumble after him, but he doesn’t pause or slow his steps. He just tugs my hand harder, forcing me to quicken my pace. “Where are you taking me?” I ask, finding my voice.
He smirks over his shoulder. “You scared, vanilla?”
I scoff but continue to follow him, my steps hurried as I try to keep up with his longer strides. “Hardly.”
The cabin is empty aside from the two of us and I take everything in. Much like the outside, it looks more like a regular home than a cabin. A large leather sectional takes up most of the room in front of a wood-burning fireplace. And the kitchen and dining area look like they came straight out of a magazine.
Roman watches me as I soak everything in, gauging my reaction though I’m not sure what he’s hoping for. Everything inside screams expensive, but it’s tasteful and you can tell that each piece in the space was carefully thought out.
Looking at it makes me think of movies in front of the fire huddled up with friends. Julio and Adriana and I would do that sometimes. Sometimes Gabe or Felix would join us. Before she did what she did. Before my mom died.
We’d watch stupid movies and eat popcorn. Julio always poured a bag of Swedish fish in my bowl so I could find sweet surprises. We’d fight over who got to eat the last one and the night almost always ended with Adriana sprawled out on our only sofa, Julio and I on the floor. He’d lean against the sofa with me lying beside him, my head in his lap.
I think of what it would be like being huddled up next to Roman in front of that fire and warmth spreads inside my chest. It wouldn’t be like when I watched movies with Julio. There would be no easy carefree affection.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, stepping closer to me.
“Nothing.”
“Mentirosa.” Liar, he says.
Maybe I am, but I know better than to share my true thoughts with him, so I say, “I was just thinking this place is nice. Homey. I know it probably cost a fortune but it doesn’t feel cold.” Like my new living arrangements. But I don’t say that out loud. “I like it.”
He nods and heads toward the kitchen, leaving me to follow him. He opens the refrigerator and starts pulling out ingredients. Carrots, celery, a package of ground beef. Then he opens up cupboards and pulls out onions, garlic, potatoes, spices, a few cans—corn and tomatoes from the looks of them—followed by a bag of rice.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m cooking.”
A laugh escapes me. “I can see that but what are you making, and why?”
“I didn’t eat after the game.” A shrug, his broad shoulders flexing with the movement, and I fight the urge to trace every contour of his body with my gaze. He should look ridiculous in my swim top. But he doesn’t. It’s unnerving.
I still haven’t decided if he’s the enemy or not. He runs hot one minute. Cold the next. I can’t get a solid read on him.
“I’m making albóndigas.”
My heart seizes in my chest and memories of my mom and me cooking at the stove wash over me. “Yo…you are?” I turn to hide the sudden tears pricking the corners of my eyes, barely catching his nod.
Thankfully, he doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. He peels the onion and with quick efficiency, dices it into small neat squares. “Here.” He hands me a second cutting board and a sharp knife. “Dice these.” Then he hands me the celery, potatoes, and carrots.
I take them and do as instructed, ignoring the sudden emotion clogging my throat. “You know albóndigas take at least two hours to make, right?” And even then the flavors aren’t completely melded. My mom would make the soup and let it simmer on low on our stove for several hours, making sure everything married nicely together. There’s no way the soup will be done in time to eat tonight.
He nods. “I know. I’m cheating.”
I look up from my task and spot him pointing to an Instant Pot, of all things, on the back counter. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me.
“My mother would be mortified.”
He gives me a devilish smile. “Mine, too. And my grandmother would probably disown me, so this is top secret. No sharing trade secrets, vanilla.” He winks. “I don’t want burgers or hot dogs. I want real food. Food I’d eat at home.” Another shrug. “This will cut back on time. Once we get everything in there, we’ll have fresh soup that tastes like it’s been cooking all day within fifteen minutes.”
I smile to myself. “You’re not what I expected you to be.”
He eyes me up and down and I almost miss the hunger in his eyes before it disappears. “Neither are you.”
Roman
She’s smiling. A real smile, not one of the forced, fake ones she gives everyone else at school. This one is genuine, and I don’t miss the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she banishes them away. The girl has demons. Hell, hers might even be worse than mine.
I’ve got an overbearing pops whose expectations I never seem to measure up to. She’s got a dead mom and a cheating ex. What other d
amage is she hiding behind that smile?
Maybe that’s what draws me to her. I want to hurt her. Bite her delectable lips until they bleed. Caress her body until it bruises. I’m not a gentle lover. I kiss hard and fuck even harder. But I also want to protect her. Something in me wants to hold her. Mark her as mine and shield her from the world even as I strip her bare of all her protections and expose her to me and me alone.
The anticipation of having her builds inside me.
I never should have brought her here.
I put everything in the pot and set the time on the pressure cooker before making quick work of cleaning up the mess we made getting everything together.
“I’ll wash that,” Allie says, taking the cutting board from my hands as she moves to the sink. She then puts it back in the drawer I’d pulled it out of earlier. With her back to me, I step into her space and place my hands low on her hips. I dip my head down, drawing in her woodsy vanilla scent as my nose drags along her neck.
She sucks in a breath but doesn’t move. I draw her back until our bodies are flush with one another before trailing my lips down the column of her neck. She tilts her head to the side, granting me better access and fuck, her skin is so smooth. I nip and bite at the tender flesh. She hisses from the sting of pain but doesn’t pull away, surprising me, so I do it again. This time biting hard enough to leave a small bruise behind. I chase away the sting with a kiss and suck on her sensitive skin ensuring that she’ll carry my mark after the weekend is over.
One of my hands slides over her hip to trail up her stomach until I’m cupping one of her breasts.
“Roman…?” Her voice is quiet, hesitant.
There’s a question there but I can’t answer her. I don’t have the words for it, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, and I sure as hell am not going to admit that.
She cranes her neck to look at me and I see the same want and need inside of me reflected in her gaze. I’ve never cared what a girl is thinking about or what she might be feeling, but with Allie, I can’t help myself from wanting to figure her out. Does she miss her old school? Her old life? What is she planning to do once she graduates?
She’s become my obsession and even as I tell myself she’s nothing, no one, I dip my head down and capture her lips with mine, desperate to taste her. She gasps and I take full advantage, sweeping my tongue inside her mouth and drinking down her soft moans.
My other hand moves up to cup the back of her neck, angling her head more so I can deepen the kiss while I squeeze her breast, and fuck, does she have nice ones. Full and round. Just enough to fill my hand. I grip the plump flesh, satisfaction flaring within me when she arches her back, pushing her breast further into my grasp before twisting in my arms.
She’s so responsive. So fucking hot. Her arms come up to wrap around my neck. Her breasts press against my chest and I’m two seconds away from stripping her out of her clothes and fucking her right here on the kitchen counter when voices outside grow nearer.
She tears her mouth from mine. “Roman.” Her breathing is heavy. Her chest heaves up and down and I realize mine is, too. I want this girl, and I have no fucking idea why. I steel myself and mask the need to sink myself inside her, fitting a bored expression on my face as our eyes connect.
“I…” Her brows furrow as she takes in my expression. Confusion flashes over her features.
The voices grow louder and she takes a step back, trying to put distance between us, but I’m not ready to let her go. I grip her hips with bruising force, refusing to let her back away. She’s not the one in control here. I am.
The door to the cabin opens and Emilio strides in, Dom hot on his heels.
“I told him you’d be busy,” Dominique says in way of greeting. I lift a single brow as if to say the interruption is of little consequence.
Emilio’s still got two girls, one under either arm beside him. He’s got that junior chick from earlier on his right and Silvia on his left. I can tell he’s drunk. His eyes are glazed over and he has a stupid happy smile on his face as he takes in the scene in front of him. “Hey, vanilla. You going to bang my bro, Rome, tonight?” It’s all I can do not to punch him in the face. Silvia’s eyes shoot to Allie and she visibly stiffens. I step forward, blocking Allie from view and Dominique smacks Emilio upside the head, muttering “stupid fucker,” under his breath.
“Hey!” Emilio cries out, rubbing his head as if Dominique actually hurt him. We both know it’s all an act. “Not cool, man. What the hell?”
Dominique points down the hallway. “Take your women to your room or send them on their way.” He takes a deep inhale before a grin spreads across his face. He’s had a few, too, because Dom isn’t usually one for smiles. “Roman’s cooking tonight.”
Emilio perks up like a five-year-old about to get an ice cream cone or some shit and his gaze snaps toward me. “You cooked?”
I nod.
“What’d you make?” He’s all but forgotten about the two girls with him. Silvia and the other chick whose name I don’t know and have no interest in learning stand just behind him with worried expressions on their faces. Looks like things aren’t going as they’d hoped.
“Albóndigas,” I tell him.
His smile widens and he turns. “Ladies, it’s been real.” He ushers them back to the front door despite their protests. Silvia is clearly digging her heels in, not liking that she’s being shown the door.
“But, Emilio. I thought we were gonna party,” she whines.
“Sorry, uhhh…” He pauses and gives her an apologetic look.
Her mouth drops open and her eyes narrow before she responds with a drawn out, “Silvia.”
He snaps his fingers together. “Right. Silvia. Sorry. Something came up. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Her cheeks heat and she pushes out her bottom lip. “You haven’t even asked for my number yet.”
He grins at her. “I’ll get it. I have my ways. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”
Before she can respond, he gives her and her friend one last little push and closes the door behind them. Then he turns back to me. “I just gave up some prime pussy so you better feed me, fucker.”
We all laugh. “You’ve got ten more minutes. Go find something to watch and I’ll get tortillas going.”
He nods and then moves toward Allie.
I growl.
“Hey, man. I was just gonna show your girl around. Chill.”
I glower at him. He doesn’t need to show her around anything. Knowing Emilio, the first place he plans to show her is his bedroom. Dominique knows this too, and interrupts before things have a chance to get heated. I might claim disinterest when it comes to Allie but I am anything but disinterested in her and I do not share my toys with others. I want to know everything about her. To own all her secrets and learn all her desires. I need ammunition against this girl. She already has too strong a hold over me.
“Wanna help pick the movie for tonight?” Dom asks her.
Her brows pinch together and she gives us all an assessing look. I can tell what she’s thinking. It’s written all over her face. We’re the grade-A assholes of Sun Valley High. The Devils. So why are we holed up in our cabin when it’s barely midnight instead of partying it up outside with everyone else? And what she probably wants to know even more than that is why the hell we’re being nice to her when all week we’ve pretended she doesn’t exist.
Dominique answers her first unspoken question. “We’re beat from the game today. And that out there,” He throws a thumb toward the direction of the front door. “Isn’t our scene.”
Her lips purse. “You guys don’t party?”
“Oh, we party.” Emilio chuckles and gives her a suggestive look. “But we do it on our terms and we don’t need wannabe assholes around to do it. Besides, today was a game day. That means tonight is a recovery night and Roman is a greedy bastard who doesn’t cook for us often. We gotta enjoy it while we can.”
“Oh
. Okay.” She follows Dom towards the sofa and he gives me a quick nod before showing her to our DVD stash. We don’t have WiFi out here, so streaming something isn’t an option.
As they dig through the movie selection, Emilio heads to his room and comes back in a pair of sweatpants. He’s still got his ridiculous bikini on over them but he walks in like he’s the hottest shit there ever was. I chuckle under my breath. The guy’s got no shame.
Allie hides her smile behind her hand when she spots him. “You don’t have to keep that on.” She’s taken the corner spot on the sectional and has the throw blanket tucked tight around her body. Is she cold? Do I care? I frown, not wanting to examine my feelings where her well-being is concerned.
Emilio looks down at himself, a smug expression on his face as he says, “I mean, I’m all for rocking my birthday suit, but I don’t think these two would appreciate it.”
“I was talking about the swimsuit,” she says. I watch as heat creeps up her cheeks. She has the prettiest blush.
“What? I look damn fine in this thing.” He cups his junk over the ridiculously bright fabric. “Pink is my color. Besides, a bet is a bet.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me. “It’s just the four of us. You don’t have to wear it either. But I’m holding you to wearing it anytime you step outside this cabin this weekend. Fair is fair.” Her lip curls into a satisfied smirk giving away that she’s a hint competitive. I’ll have to file that bit of information away for later use.
“I can get behind that.” I untie the black top and toss it on the counter just as the Instant Pot beeps letting me know it’s finished. I turn on the comal—a cast iron griddle of sorts—and warm up tortillas before portioning out the soup. Normally I’d make them serve themselves but I don’t want Dominique eating all of it in one go. Emilio and I are used to home cooking. Dom’s not, and every time it’s offered the man wolfs it down as though he’s been starved.
My mom practically lives in the kitchen and there is always something hot and ready as soon as I or my pops walk in the door. But Dom’s parents are rarely home and dinner is almost always some catered solitary affair. It’s why Emilio and I try and have him over to our houses for dinner throughout the week. No one should eat alone. Food is meant to be enjoyed with family and those two fuckers are as family as it gets for me.
Wicked Devil: An Enemies to Lovers, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 1) Page 7