He’d made it so believable, the lies he told, the harem of girls he made out with, and felt up, sometimes right in front of me with a smirk on his face.
“Dinner!” Mom called down the hall.
He was already at the house; I heard his voice, felt the tension rolling off of him right along with all that misplaced anger.
Maybe he shouldn’t have made it look like he was whoring himself out if he was going to get so pissed about me doing the same.
Not that I’d done it.
I mean I’d done it as in, had sex, but it wasn’t with multiple people, it was a week after he’d broken my heart into a million pieces.
And I thought it would make me feel better.
It didn’t; if anything, it just pissed me off more.
When I saw the guy on campus I still felt dirty about that night, it was so rushed and so opposite of what I’d experienced with Junior that I wondered if I was defective, if something was wrong with me or if my body just refused to feel good with anyone but him, which just pissed me off more. Because how dare he make it so that I compared every kiss to his, every touch, every moan.
I gave my head a shake and slowly walked out of my room and down the hall toward the massive gourmet style kitchen.
The long wood table was piled high with enough food to feed a small country. Then again, we were Italian; we weren’t really fans of portion control.
Broken heart? Have some bread!
Broken finger? Try the wine; it’s a Malbec!
Near death? The pasta should help!
My eyes darted around the table. Dad was already seated at the head, staring down at his phone while Mom moved around him and kissed him on the head.
He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around until she was on his lap. “Missed you today,” he said in a rough whisper before kissing her.
She sighed into his embrace. “Missed you too.”
“Get a room, guys, get a room,” I said with a laugh.
“Look who wants another sibling!” Dad teased while Bella sat at the opposite end of the table, giving them a huge grin. She was in the whole I want a baby sister so I can mother her phase.
I made a gagging motion much to their amusement and pulled out one of the black wingback chairs and winked at Bella.
The front door slammed, and then Junior was sauntering in, with a girl draped all over him.
The first thing I noticed was I could see at least two blond extensions, the next was that her fingernails looked like they could seriously harm someone if they got too close, and third?
She was giggling.
The fun part?
Nobody had said a damn word.
So, she was just filling the air with her annoying giggle for absolutely no reason.
And Junior? He seemed to like the sound of it even though my ears were bleeding.
If a goat could laugh.
It would sound like extension girl.
I gripped my knife in my right hand before realizing what I was doing, then slowly set it back down and counted to three.
The giggle picked up.
Bella made a face in my direction.
Same girl, same.
“Sorry I’m late, guys,” Junior announced. “Coco and I just got a little…” He grinned at her. “…sidetracked.”
She honest to God touched her neck where a hickey was already forming and let out another ear-splitting giggle.
“Coco.” I nodded. “Cool name.” Was she a stripper? I mean, really…
She was wearing a black tube top dress, bright red lipstick, and two-inch heels.
Fuck my life.
“Thanks.” Her heavily shadowed lids lowered into slits. “Are you Junior’s sister?”
Deep breaths, Serena, deep breaths. “Kind of, I’m more of a sister-wife.”
Her eyes widened. “Whoa, I had no idea he was into—”
“She’s kidding.”
Coco frowned. “Oh, so you guys aren’t.”
“Nope!” I answered a bit louder than I should have. “And this actually isn’t Junior’s house; those aren’t his parents; he’s staying here as a guest for a few weeks while his parents go on a mission trip to South America where they’re going to rescue endangered teacup pigs.”
Her jaw hung open as she swung her head back to Junior. “You must be so proud!”
“Yeah, I’m something.” Junior shot me a glare while my mom snorted a laugh into her wine.
“Serena.” Dad’s voice held a warning edge, but I could see his mouth twitch.
“Cool lip ring.” Coco eyed my dad like he was on the menu right alongside Junior. I fought not to throw up a bit in my mouth; she’d probably have a stroke if she came over for family dinner.
Dad gave her a chilly expression that made me want to duck under the table. “My wife thinks so too.”
Message sent.
Unfortunately, goat-giggler did not receive.
She laughed again and reached for her empty wine glass then held it out to Junior like he was her servant.
I rolled my eyes as he poured her a glass and then started putting food on her plate.
“Gonna cut up her pasta too?” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that?” Coco asked, twirling a piece of hair that looked minutes away from detaching from her head.
Sigh.
“Nothing,” I said it quickly. “So where did you two meet?”
“Oh, it’s the funniest story!” Coco took three gulps of wine. “My car broke down on the side of the road, he pulled over to help, and the rest is history, right baby?” She reached for his hand.
He took hers and kissed it while I was still waiting for the punchline in her “it’s so funny” story.
“Wow.” He was an idiot. “When was that?”
I took a sip of wine as she spit out, “Two hours ago.”
I choked down what was left in my mouth. “Wow, you guys move fast. When’s the wedding?”
“Serena.” Mom shook her head at me like I was the crazy one. “Let’s not tease our new guest.”
Coco waved Mom off. “Oh, it’s fine, I can handle the teasing. Actually, can someone let me know where the bathroom is?”
“Down the hall,” I answered before anyone could. “Just turn around, walk, first door on the right.”
“Thanks!” She jumped to her feet and practically bounced on those stilettos down the hall.
I used that as an opportunity to throw my spoon at Junior’s head. “Are you kidding me right now? Two hours? I hope you get crabs!”
“Serena!” Mom hushed me. “I think it’s… um… nice that you’re dating.”
I barked out a laugh. “This isn’t dating!”
“Sure it is,” Junior argued, leaning back in his chair, face serious. “Plus, she’s really interesting, smart—”
“I’m gonna cut you off right there. I’d be stunned if she could spell cat or tie her shoes without Googling it!”
“Says the single girl with no boyfriend. Actually—” Junior snapped his fingers. “That’s funny I’ve never even seen you date anyone, but then again, you don’t have to date to fu—”
“Finish that sentence, Junior, and I’m going to have to punch you in the face,” Dad said, all calm like they were talking about the weather.
“Sorry,” Junior grumbled and flipped me off anyway.
I sighed and returned with two fingers.
“Well, this is… special,” Mom grumbled, reaching for the wine.
Suddenly I remembered my parents’ rules. “Daddy?”
Dad shot me a look that said I know exactly what you’re trying to do with that sweet voice of yours. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Shouldn’t we let Junior know about the rules of your household? I mean, since he’s going to be here for two full weeks, it wouldn’t be fair that he can have female company when the rules specifically state no boyfriends, girlfriends, or skanks can stay any later than ten at night.”
If looks c
ould kill, I would be dead. Junior was glaring holes through my body.
“As much as it pains me to say this out loud…” Dad sighed. “Serena’s right. We do have certain house rules. Your, um, friend can stay until after dinner, but then she needs to go home.”
“If she can find it,” I grumbled, earning another scolding look from my mom.
Coco teetered back down the hall, walking so loud in her heels that I was concerned for the hardwood. She staggered a bit as she approached her chair and then plopped down in it.
I frowned.
Junior leaned in. “Hey, you okay?”
“Mmmm.” She swayed toward him and patted him on the cheek but missed, nearly collapsing onto his lap. “Sooo good.”
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, she’s high as a kite.”
“I was nervous.” Coco giggled and then stared up at Junior, blinking her eyes so slow that I was afraid she was going to pass out. And then she did, right on his lap.
“Well.” I grabbed my wine. “At least you got some action, right, Junior?”
With a grunt, he shoved her away, stood, then threw her over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna go let her sleep it off; then I’ll take her home. Sorry guys.”
“Real winner, Junior. I mean seriously, good work.” I lifted my glass in a cheer.
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Hey Nixon, I almost forgot. Some things came up at school today. I strongly suggest you have the sex talk with Serena. The last thing we need is for her to end up pregnant.”
With that, he gave me his back and strutted down the hall with Coco lifeless over his shoulder.
I was choking him in his sleep later.
Slowly, I turned toward my dad’s thunderous expression.
Forget choking him; I was going to make him suffer slowly.
Damn it, Junior!
“Dad, he’s just being… Junior.”
Dad grabbed the bottle of wine and started drinking directly from it; bad sign, very bad sign. “Have you been…” He took a deep breath. “Serena, I’ve always trusted you, but guys think differently than girls. They—shit.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. “They have thoughts!”
I looked to my mom for help, but she seemed to be enjoying the show as she snorted out a laugh. “Yes, Nixon, boys have thoughts. Care to share the ones you had about me when you were her age?”
“Mom, no!” I nearly shouted. “Some things you can’t unhear!”
Dad looked between us and then threw up a hand. “Look, guys are… they’re bad.”
I waited for more.
But that was it.
Apparently, he was finished talking.
“Wait.” I leaned in. “That’s it? That’s your sex talk?”
“Yup.” Dad thrust a finger in my direction. “Oh also, if I find out you’re having sex with boys, I’m going to rip out their tongues, chop off their dicks, then let them suffer through life while they beg for death, and that, sweetheart, will be on your conscience.”
Eyes wide, I nodded once. “Good talk, Dad, good talk.”
He relaxed. “Really? Because I feel like I came on a little strong.”
“Nah,” I waved him off while Mom laughed and handed him the wine bottle again like he needed comfort. “I particularly liked the rip out their tongues and chop off their dicks… classic mob boss.”
“I like chopping things.” He shrugged. “But also, I’m serious. No boys. Focus on school; our life’s hard enough without having to bring someone into the fold.”
I wanted to say he was already in.
The one who I’d had.
Who I’d wanted.
Who was currently sitting with a drug-using, passed out Coco.
I suppressed a snarl as I reached for my fork and grabbed more pasta. If Junior was trying to flaunt his female fans to make me homicidal—it was working.
Chapter Twelve
Junior
By the time I got back to the house, it was already past midnight. Thank God I didn’t have class the next day because I was exhausted having to drive someone a good forty minutes back to her apartment.
When we finally got there, Coco had trouble finding her keys, and then she plastered herself against me, kissed my nose because, and I quote, “It’s just so damn perfect.” Only to follow that up with asking me if I wore contacts and if I was packing.
I think she meant that sexually.
But I truly was packing—heat that was.
Those hours with Coco, I would never get back, but to see the anger on Serena’s face?
One hundred percent worth it.
It was the only plan of attack I had.
Hurt her the way she’d hurt me—no, the way she was still hurting me.
I quietly let myself in the house and tossed my keys on the counter; it felt like a second home to me since we had all been close. And all those nights I’d snuck into her room, well let’s just say I knew how to get into the fortress that was Nixon Abandonato’s house—blindfolded.
I went over to the fridge to grab a water, then nearly shit myself when a too-sugary voice said, “Get lucky?”
“Did Satan at least give you a deal when he took your soul, or did you just freely hand it over so you could lurk in dark corners and curse people?” I picked up the water and closed the fridge. “I’m genuinely curious.”
She made a face.
The lights were off except for the glow from the motion sensors outside that I’d activated.
And then, absolute darkness.
“I gave him my soul, and in return, he said when I die, I can haunt you, so I figured it was a pretty legit deal, you know?” she said sweetly.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay and to answer your question, no I didn’t get lucky because I’m not into screwing passed out girls—”
Serena took a step toward me and whispered, “Huh, that’s strange, considering what bloodline you come from.”
I shoved her so hard she stumbled backward.
And then she was on me, legs wrapped around my waist, hands grappling for a solid chokehold around my neck.
I threw her down onto her back while she tried to get an arm bar, too bad her fingers were still broken or she may have had me.
“Son of a bitch,” I groaned as my arm strained inside hers, I got out of position then knocked my head against hers.
She cursed and loosened enough for me to wiggle out and pin her arms to the ground.
Both our chests were heaving; I tried to ignore the fact that her white tank top was nearly see-through, and she was wearing tiny shorts that did nothing to hide her lean legs.
Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she had never looked so angry—or so damn beautiful.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hissed. “That was low, even for you.”
Her eyes darted away. “I know.”
And then it was like our bodies realized what perfect position we were in, her legs still wrapped tight around my waist.
My hands holding her hostage against the floor.
Her breasts straining.
We were a tangle of erratic breathing, hatred, and millions of angry, broken pieces.
I could feel the heat from her legs as my dick strained against my jeans. An erotic swirl of tension so thick, so sweet, pulsed between us in a way that was catastrophic.
I lowered my head a fraction of an inch so that I could whisper in her ear, my tongue wetting the outside tip. “Admit it; you like fighting me.”
She struggled against my grip. “I can feel you… so maybe it’s you who likes fighting me?”
I thrust up against her, feeling the throb of her body against mine. “What was that, princess?”
She arched beneath me.
A light flicked on down the hall.
We scrambled to our feet and jumped apart. I did my best to hide my arousal while she crossed her arms and reached for the bottle of water I’d just taken.
The light turned off, blanketing us in da
rkness again.
I took a step away from her.
And then Serena grabbed me by the arm and shoved me against the fridge, her mouth was on mine before I could beg.
And then I was shoving my hand down her shorts, gripping her naked ass so tight that she would have bruises.
Our tongues tangled in a mess of want.
I would die for a kiss like this.
I would commit murder.
I would burn down the world.
I let out a groan as my other hand dug into her hair, tugging it, holding her prisoner as our mouths greedily fused harder.
The sound of the water bottle dropping broke us apart again.
“Consider it a favor, Junior.” She sounded confident, but she looked shaken.
“The kiss?” I rasped, mouth swollen from her.
“Yeah.” She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal when we both knew that blood could be shed over us kissing like that. “Just a friend helping out a friend. I couldn’t let you go to bed with her taste still on your tongue. Better you fall asleep with the flavor of someone you hate, don’t you think?”
“Better for my nightmares maybe, sure,” I agreed, and without saying another word, picked up the discarded water bottle and left. I squeezed the plastic so hard it crinkled in my hand, and I knew I would never look at water or plastic again without getting painfully aroused.
I nearly impaled the guest room door when I turned to close it behind me.
And when Serena’s footsteps sounded down the hall and her door shut, I whispered under my breath. “Hate you for as long as we both shall live.”
Chapter Thirteen
Serena
Junior was at breakfast, drinking a cup of coffee when Ash and Claire barged in. None of us had classes today, and typically we hung out together, sparred, shopped, cleaned our guns—not even kidding—but today, Ash looked irritated as he jerked a seat out and shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth with a growl.
“Hangry, party of one,” I sang out.
“Ash, it’s not a big deal,” Claire said softly. She reached for him then seemed to think twice about it and pulled back. “I mean, we just hung out for an hour.”
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