Sneak Attack

by Cari Quinn

  I nodded. “Yeah.” But having more than her in my life didn’t change reality. If it ever came down to me or Carly, I’d take the fist—or the bullet. I couldn’t face the alternative.

  “Besides, I’m good. I’m in school now, and I’m rocking it. I’m going to be a world-famous chef in no time.” Her bravado rang slightly false, a note played just out of key. But I didn’t question it, because I wanted to believe with every fiber that it was true.

  We were all going to be just fine.

  “Speaking of food, I don’t suppose you have anything in mind for dinner? I’ve gotten used to your wonderful cooking very quickly.” Mrs. Knox asked. Even Vey laid his snout hopefully on the table.

  “Oh, I do.” She clapped her hands and rushed over to the counter. “I got a great recipe for spanakopita from a classmate today. Thought we could do some baklava too, make it a total Greek feast.” She pulled out the spinach and the phyllo dough, then turned to glance my way. “When will the boy be home?”

  The door opened on cue, as always. Seriously, I swore Tray stood in the hall waiting to make an entrance. And this time he’d brought reinforcements, also known as Slater and Giovanni. “Make that boys, plural.”

  “And girl,” Kizzy called, bringing up the rear of the motley crew.

  “Can’t forget her.” Tray shot me an apologetic glance. He knew I wasn’t up for big gatherings on the best of nights, and it was the evening before the fight. He crossed the room to brush a kiss over my head and dropped to his knees to wrestle with Vey. “I headed to the gym to pick up some stuff after class and picked up this bunch too.”

  “Where are we going to put all these people, Trayherne? There aren’t enough seats at the table—” As if she’d just realized she wasn’t home, Mrs. Knox fell silent.

  “We’ll grab seats on the sofa and the floor, Mrs. K. No worries.” Slater headed over to kiss her cheek. He then strolled into the kitchen and pinched Carly’s butt. “What’s happening, hot stuff?”

  “Asshole.” But she laughed as she spun around to give him a hug, holding her dripping spatula over his shoulder. “What’s—” She broke off as she noticed Giovanni lurking by the door, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anyplace else. “Jeez, brought home enough peeps, Fox?” Because I knew my sister better than anyone in the world, I could see how much she was struggling to act casual. “How am I supposed to feed all these people?”

  “I can run to the store,” Giovanni offered, his hand already closing around the knob.

  I felt his pain. The sheer amount of bodies in my small apartment—though I loved them all, minus Gio himself—was a little boggling.

  This might be the first and last time I ever had anything in common with Giovanni Costas.

  “No, we’re fine. I always buy extra so there’s leftovers anyway.” Carly eased away from Slater and turned back to the stove. Normally she would’ve kept the conversation going as she cooked, but not tonight.

  One guess why.

  “I’m going to go lay down for a bit before dinner,” Mrs. Knox announced, shuffling her mementoes of Tray back into their box.

  “Hey, hey, hold it. Look at this gem.” Slater snatched a snapshot of Tray wearing Captain America underwear and brandishing a toy sword. “Holy shit, this is going right up on EBay. Former hot shot fighter, stripped down to his skivvies. I’d make a mint.”

  “Give me that.” Tray leaned across the table and snatched it out of Slater’s hand. Well, tried to. A minor tussle occurred, with Mrs. Knox racing to get the rest of her photos put away before the idiots ripped them to shreds in their tug-o-war.

  “Did someone say boys in skivvies? Hell the fuck yeah.” Kizzy lurched across the table and made her own grab for the photo.

  And promptly tore it in two.

  “Called it,” I said under my breath, shaking my head.

  “Hey, I got the dick half. Aces.” Catching Mrs. Knox’s less than amused stare, Kizzy cleared her throat. “Uh, hi there, Mrs. Knox. Sorry about the picture. Yo, Carlsbad, we got any Super Glue up in this joint?”

  “Carlsbad?” Tray muttered, standing up as Vey abandoned him to make the rounds around the room to all the new visitors. He sniffed everyone and happily wagged his tail as he got his usual head pats and requisite loving.

  Then he meandered over to Giovanni and settled down atop his shoes as if he didn’t intend to move for the rest of the evening.

  Giovanni crouched to stroke his flank, murmuring softly to his new friend. For the first time, he didn’t look as ill-at-ease as I felt. Not that I cared.

  Not your friend. Not anything to you.

  Just because Tray had decided they were pals all of a sudden didn’t mean I intended to follow suit. Even if I had been weakening in that direction—which I absolutely was not—I still didn’t like the way he looked at my sister. Or the way she reacted to him. Every time they were in the same space, I wanted to go take a cold shower from all the damn sexual vibes.

  And that’s when they weren’t looking at or talking to each other. I didn’t want to be around when and if that changed.

  “How’s your new boyfriend, Carly Ann?” I asked, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Probably our neighbor in 3C had even heard.

  She continued chopping vegetables. Maniacally. If she kept that up, she’d need carpal tunnel surgery in no time.

  “Not sure which boyfriend you mean, Mia.”

  Her tone indicated I should drop the subject. But who was I to take subtle warnings?

  “You know, the guy you slept with last week from the Salad Hut. He sounded pretty nice.”

  A hush fell over the assembled crowd. Considering the loudmouths present, that was pretty impressive.

  I’d win a room clearing contest any day of the week. No sweat.

  Carly whirled around, knife in hand. “Seriously? That’s what you announce in front of everyone?”

  I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

  “Right. Conversation. Jesus.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Ame.”

  “So, how about those Yankees?” Tray asked no one in particular.

  “They suck.” Kizzy flopped on the couch in her typical dramatic fashion, blond ringlets bobbing. “Sox all the way, baby.”

  “What was his name anyway? The Salad Hut guy you’re sleeping with? Or do you like someone else now? Since you’re keeping your options open. Way open,” I added.

  “Christ on a cracker, are you trying to make me sound like the whore of Brooklyn or what?”

  “It’s whore of Babylon,” Slater said. “It’s actually a Biblical reference to—”

  “Oh my fucking God. I hate all of you.” Carly tossed her spatula into the sink. “Make your own damn dinner.” She stomped down the hall into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Wow. Way to make us starve, Mia.” Kizzy shook her head and pulled out her cell. “Who’s up for some Wonder Pizza?”

  “What the fuck is Wonder Pizza?” Slater asked, sitting down at the table across from me. He was still clutching Tray’s head. Well, the photo of it.

  “It’s something we’re not eating.” Tray glanced at me, his eyebrow lifted. “You going to deal with that or shall I?”

  “Don’t use that tone with me,” I muttered, feeling more ashamed than if he’d called me a dozen names. “She’s my sister.”

  “And you fucked up. So, go fix it.”

  So easy. Go fix it. Right. He didn’t know my sister when she had a full head of mad going. Deserved mad in this case.

  I glanced at Giovanni, who was still talking quietly to Vey. There was a small chance he hadn’t even been paying attention to the little show I’d just put on.

  So much for saving Carly’s virtue, which wasn’t mine to monitor in any case. She was a grown woman. I’d managed to ease off on the Giovanni thing after the insanity at the club the other night, but apparently I’d had just enough time this week to pull back on my old armor.

  “Sorry, everyone.�
�� I got to my feet, sliding a glance at Tray. “This is your fault.”

  “Oh yeah? How you figure?”

  “You got into that dumb spat with Slater last night. Your dickish ways rubbed off.” I jammed an elbow in his side just for fun as I passed.

  “Did she just say she rubbed off his dick?” Kizzy asked.

  “She probably could with as much as they do it.” Slater made a crude hand gesture and Kizzy howled like a loon.

  I ignored them both and went down the hall to knock on the bathroom door. “Let me in, Carly Ann.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  Well, then. Not the best sign. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

  She pried open the door and stuck her face in the crack. “No, it’s not okay. It’s none of your business. Do you understand that? Who I have sex with is my choice. Mine.”

  “Fine. Unless it’s Jessie Pavelka.” I crossed my arms. “Then we’re going to have words.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Who?”

  “Sports dude. Anyway, come out and make dinner before these jerks order from some sketchy place.”

  She breezed past me into the hall. “You just want me for my food.”

  “Well, duh.”

  Dinner went about as well as could be expected. Carly gave me the cold shoulder and sat as far away from Giovanni as the apartment allowed. I half expected her to take her plate out on the fire escape. Tray and Kizzy ate as if they’d never seen food before, and Mrs. Knox ate quietly while reading a magazine tucked beside her plate. Slater spent the night texting his mystery girl and Giovanni ate one bite of food for every two bites he fed the dog.

  After all the plates had been licked clean and Carly had retired—to the bathroom, the only room with a lock that wasn’t occupied—with a supposed headache, the rest of the crew decided to split too. Leaving Tray and his serious face and his sleeping dog behind.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I began.

  “Hear what?” he asked pleasantly, sitting so close to me on the couch that the seams of our jeans practically created sparks. “Perhaps you mean you don’t want to hear that the Gio and Carly situation is old news, and you don’t need to do damage control every time they’re anywhere near each other.”

  “Gio this, Gio that. Why is he your best friend all of a sudden?”

  He didn’t reply. A wise man knew silence was the best tactic to deal with a woman in full temper. Which only made me want to fight with him all the more.

  “There’s tension there. Can’t you feel it? I can feel it. It’s like a cloud in the room.”

  “And your way of dispersing it is bragging about how many dudes she’s sleeping with?”

  “One dude. Just one.”

  “With the possibility of more.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, except when you’re doing the exact opposite of what you should be if you truly want to keep them apart.”

  “Which is?”

  He lifted my hand and separated my fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “Minding your own business.”

  “Like I don’t know that.” I dropped my head on the back of the couch. “How’d your test go?”

  “Aced it.”

  “Of course you did. Brown-noser.” I sighed. “I apologized once.”

  “Huh?”

  “To Carly. I apologized.”

  “How’d that work for you?”

  “You saw. She hates me.” I sighed. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Grinning, he dropped a kiss on my head. “Your segues are truly something to behold. This, folks, is why I love this woman.”

  “Jackass, I meant to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” It took a lot for me to acknowledge we had a long day ahead, not just me. It was hard getting used to being part of a team, never mind truly believing we were one.

  And part of that involved what I was about to do before we went to sleep, no matter how nauseous it made me.

  “You naked in a sleeping bag is a recipe for good any way you cut it.” He waggled his brows as I hauled my shirt over my head and pulled on the sleepshirt I’d left right in the sleeping bag.

  The world’s best housekeepers, we were not.

  “You know I don’t sleep naked.”

  “A guy can dream.” Showing his usual modesty, he stripped naked in about two seconds and crawled into the bag. He patted the space beside him and smiled. “C’mon, live a little. Skip the nightie and the panties.”

  “Hello, your mother and my sister are right down the hall.”

  “So? Turn out the light and we’ll zip up tight.”

  My lips twitched as I shook my head and took off my jeans and panties. I folded them neatly, then cast a surreptitious glance at the doorway to the back hallway before darting for the light to turn it off. His soft laughter followed me.

  I didn’t pull off my nightshirt until I was right beside the bag. Just in case, I tucked it right beneath the side, that way I could get dressed in a hurry if I had to. And since I was right beside my backpack anyway, I dug out the item I’d discovered—and blushed over—earlier in the day when I’d gone looking for aspirin.

  Compared to what I intended to tell him, revealing my inexperience with sex toys was a piece of cake.

  I slipped into the bag with him and didn’t move as he slid his heavy arm over my waist. I gripped the object at my side like one might a lethal weapon. A conversation like this required easing my way in, an icebreaker if you will.

  Then the damn thing started to buzz and vibrate against my thigh. Loudly.

  “What the—whoa.” He peeled up the top of the sleeping bag. “What are you doing down there? Can I watch?”

  I laughed. Actually no, I snorted hard enough to rupture something in my nose, which only made me laugh harder. And the stupid toy fell out of my hand and rolled between us.

  He finally grabbed the vibrator and held it up to the moonlight, studying it as a doctor might examine a tool of his trade. “Look at all those notches.” He turned his stare on me. “When a beautiful naked girl crawls in my sleeping bag with a vibrator, I take that as an invitation.”

  My breath actually caught. “They’re right down the hall…” The argument sounded weak even to my ears.

  “Doth protesth too fucking mucheth,” he said against my ear, adding a lick down the side of my throat that made me shiver right down to my toes. “Get wet for me.”

  Shit, now I was flushing. “You can’t just command that to happen.”

  “Wanna bet?” He placed the cylinder against the heat of my thigh and I startled enough to drag my nipples over the cool satin interior of the sleeping bag. The movement and the reality of what was about to happen had me dampening in a flash.

  Then he started to talk in that soft, hypnotic voice that accompanied the bulk of my orgasms, and I was done for.

  “Let’s start on low, shall we? Just warm you up a bit first. I’ll slide it along your lips, let you get used to how it feels. Circle it over your clit until it gets stiff. Until it starts to pulse. After a minute I’ll slip the toy down, slide it inside you. Then I’ll start to fuck you, nice and slow, until I can hear how soaked you are for me. Because we both know I’m the one fucking you, whether it’s a toy or my fingers or my cock.” His warm, wet mouth skimmed along the underside of my jaw and I quaked like a virgin on prom night. “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you.” My chest was rattling with the breaths I tried to hold inside. “God, I want you.”

  “Good girl.” He slid his arm beneath my shoulders and nudged me upward. So I could watch. Dear Lord. “Open your legs.”

  I had to. I had to know.

  He flicked his thumb over the lever and it powered on, sounding more like a lawnmower than a quiet, discreet vibrator. 3C was probably getting an earful again, though at least they might get their rocks off this time.

  On second thought, eww.

  “Your mom’s going to hear.”

  “I’ll jus
t tell her I had to shave my balls.”

  I couldn’t help laughing again, though my amusement swiftly disappeared when he slid the tip of the toy inside me and bumped up the speed. He’d totally lied about his process to get me used to the vibrator. He was going for it, right away.

  Why had I expected anything different? Neither of us dipped a toe in when we could dive in headfirst.

  And damn, he was diving in, all right. He had the entire thing inside me within a couple of passes, and steadily increased the speed and pressure until I didn’t have a hope in hell of not making noise. I bit down on his corded shoulder muscles and he groaned, turning his face against my breast as he rotated the toy inside me.

  I fought the orgasm as long as I could. It seemed wrong somehow, to come around something that wasn’t him. But when he lifted his head and pierced me in the hazy moonlit dark with his gorgeously expressive eyes, I gave in. Hard. Shaking around him until he cuddled me close and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to my throat to ease my tremors.

  Then he turned on the toy again, and drew it along my damp inner thigh.

  “No,” I whimpered, shaking my head.

  “Yes. Let me take care of you.” He licked his way into my mouth, kissing me slow and deep. “Let me.”

  If anyone could say no to him, it wasn’t me. Would never be me.

  He pushed it inside of me again, slow and easy, and my still oversensitive clit pulsed painfully. I bit my lip not to moan aloud, but as he turned up the speed again, there was no stopping it. He caught the sound with his mouth, kissing me gently while he used the butt of his hand to hold me in place for the onslaught of pleasure. Wires were twisting and twining tighter and tighter inside me, hot and barbed with thorns that brought ecstasy with their pain. He kissed me so sweetly even as the pressure rose inside me to an unbearable level. Nothing took it away. Not rocking my hips, not lifting upward to get more of that evil, incredible toy. His hand pushed me down every time I tried to escape, and his lips pinned me with gentle kisses.

  “You’re mine,” he breathed against my cheek as we both watched him work me in the shadowy recesses of the sleeping bag.