Axel jumps up. “Count me in. I haven’t eaten the whole day.”
“Yeah,” Enrique chimes in, “We can go eat and drink while you girls make yourselves pretty for the party.”
“I heard you invited that Ren dude,” Logan pulls a shitty face.
“Yip, and he’s bringing two of his buddies with him, so be nice.” I’m sure one of those buddies will be Jason Steward. And I still don’t like Jason much. Never will.
“I don’t like the guy,” Jackson’s icy cold glare sends a shiver down my spine. I swear he has the devil’s eyes. “He’s an ass.” I stick my tongue out at him. He smirks and winks. It’s so cocky, cute, and unexpected that I’m stunned for a moment.
How do they always do that? It’s as if they know their cheeky cuteness messes up a woman’s clear thinking. Then again, that’s probably exactly why they do it.
Kiara and I have discussed the possibility of there being a secret ‘Hot guy sex training club’ where they teach men how to seduce the opposite sex. Or I suppose the same sex if they’re into that. I wouldn’t be surprised if Boys Educational and Analytical Sex Training – or BEAST for short, in fact, really exists.
And no, I’m not googling over my brother, but I’m not blind and I know that my brothers are far from ugly. They’re all carved from the same block as our father – tall, lean, and perfectly muscled with sexy manly faces, and definitely VIP members of said club. So are their friends.
“Let’s go eat. I’m frickin starving,” Enrique says as they walk away.
“I’m starving too,” I shout after them but they just laugh while disappearing down the stairs.
“It’s good to be a man,” one comments and I fall back onto the sofa. I think I’m really starting to hate men. Or at least the ones I have in my life.
Date = 5 September
Place = San Francisco (Uncle John’s house)
POV – Damion
Shit, she is even prettier than I remembered, if that’s possible
My eyes immediately found her in the crowd … like they always do. She’s standing between her uncle and Kiara, just mere meters away from me, wearing distressed jeggings that make those sporty legs pop.
Combine that with a barely-not-see-through, silky, dirty-pink, off-shoulder shirt, showing just the hint of a slinky black bra that flatters her C-cup cleavage and she’s demanding me to stand up and pay fucking attention.
She has great tits. The best I’ve ever seen – full and stiff and just big enough without looking unproportional. I bet they will feel like heaven in my hands.
Fuck. I move a little to compensate for the blood flooding a part south of my navel and seriously try to reprimand my cock down before it gets embarrassing. This girl is making it fucking hard not to act on my impulses. Very fucking hard.
Her hair hangs loose in soft curls down her back, reaching that tight hot-as-fuck ass. I love the color – white-spun sun with streaks of gold, ash, and honey all married together.
Enrique walks past, his arm around a gorgeous redhead dressed in a skimpy skirt and top. Typical of him … he loves gingers. Always has. I’m a blonde man myself. Actually, since the haunted house incident, I’ve secretly been a one-blonde man.
“Looking good, peops!” he shouts at the two girls.
“Who’s the new flavor of the day?” Kiara asks as her mouth pulls into a smile.
“Not a clue, you know I can’t keep up with my brothers’ fuckbuddies, so I don’t even bother to ask for names anymore.” I smile at both her answer and the judgmental look on her face. I know she thinks all of us are man-whores … players … and it’s probably true. The majority of this group does fuck around a lot… myself included, but I bet our numbers are not nearly as high as she thinks them to be.
She doesn’t understand the complications of being a man. Stats show that the average man thinks about sex every 8 seconds. I would put it more to the likes of every 15 seconds, but yeah … it’s not far from the truth.
“So where’s this Ren?” Uncle John asks.
My face contorts into a disgusted smirk all by itself. I’ve heard she’s going out with some asshole. I’m not happy. And it’s something I need to rectify asap.
“He’s going to be a little late cause he’s picking up some friends after work.” I don’t know this Ren guy … but I’ve heard the dude is friends with Jason. Jason fucking Steward. How the fuck can she go out with anyone even remotely related to HIM?
Those parrot-blue eyes lock on mine, making my little man want to do the hula. Not being with a girl for what seems like forever doesn’t help either.
Those windows to her soul display a mother-load of paradoxes – it’s as if the girl is in a constant battle with herself whenever I’m around. Love and hate – both intense emotions directed at me. Ambivalence.
I notice the subtle intake of breath, the way her nostrils suddenly flare, the light coating of goosebumps on her skin, the sudden increase of her pulse, the look in her eyes that she so desperately tries to hide with a shitty expression. I can read her like a fucking comic book.
She’s not as immune to my charms as she wants to let on. That’s not where the problem lies – will she forgive me for ripping out her heart? That’s the question. She’s rather stubborn that one. And can she learn to trust me? Trust is important for my plan to work. But I have an idea that I will need to work on that.
I’m definitely anything but immune to her too.
Hell, she can seriously seduce me with just one look. Fucking magic sorcery. Why else would an 11-year-old boy lose his heart at first sight? The girl is a fucking bewitching angel with voodoo spells.
I clench my hands in fists next to my body and bite my jaw not to grab her and kiss those sinful pink lips. To move my hands underneath that shirt, into those pants, and explore that warm part of her I always dream about. Erotic steaming wet dreams that leave me breathless for hours. Every fucking time.
Oh, I want her so badly … to satisfy this craving she created in me. Maybe fucking her will break the spell she holds over me. My dick stirs again.
I take a deep breath, smile widely, and wink at her.
A little ungirly swear word, starting with a C and naming the place that’s hopefully heating up right now, escapes her lips, a bit too hard. She slams her hand over her mouth while a pink blush spreads to her cheeks. Both her uncle and Kiara look rather astonished at her. She pulls her shoulders up.
“Sorry, it slipped out,” she apologizes while glaring at me with heated eyes. I swear she’s strangling me in her mind. Kinky. I can work with that.
I’m vaguely aware of a touch, but my mind is still lingering on erotic thoughts only she can evoke, and I can’t register, think dirty, and be hard at the same time.
She breaks the passionate lock between our eyes, a moment of heartbreak illuminated in those baby-blues, crashing my thoughts.
Somewhere in my poised mind, I figure that I’m to blame for her sadness again, as my brain slowly starts to function back to normality.
I watch her walk away. Hell, over the years, the habit of her running away from me became a rather familiar sight, one that I came to appreciate, and one that keeps me spellbound. Who wouldn’t with an ass like hers swaying away for you to feast your eyes on?
“Did you miss me, baby?” A warm breath blows in my ear. I freeze. Fuck. I was so engrossed in the moment I didn’t fully register the invasion of my space. I remove the snaky arm from my body as I turn to face probably my least favorite person in this world.
“Why the fuck are you here?” I hiss. “This is a private function.” I’m not happy.