A group even started a couple-name: #Damena.
He lifts his arm and pushes his fingers through his disheveled hair, making it look even more unkempt. His navy polo-neck shirt stretches across his broad chest and shoulders. I lift my eyes to his and find him looking at me.
“Can you please let go of your goodies and get away from the man who is not related to you,” Jackson puts his hand to Damion’s face and pushes him back. Realizing my hands are still clutching my chest, I drop them. Seems the joke’s on me.
His arm now around Damion’s shoulder Jackson adds: “It’s enough that the whole world thinks you two are sneaking around for real.”
I slip into the booth, our private table in a secluded corner of the VIP section. From here you can see the stage downstairs with the dancing area through a double-sided glass.
I need to get back the upper hand. Logan brings some tequila shots and I down three before I realize just what I’ve done. I blame the shitty day I’m having; or the tension about D knowing my every move; or the fact that Damion looks big, bad, and hot.
“Maybe we are,” the lie rolls from my tongue so easily it’s out before I can pull it back.
Jackson’s sharp gaze flashes from me to Damion. His eyes turn from mild to hot.
“Man, maybe I must remind you again to stay away from my sister, dude,” It seems like an innocent, mocking, ridicule but I know better. It’s a real threat. Damion shrugs his shoulders.
“Been there, done that.” I’m not sure what he means but his indifferent attitude seems to surprise my cocky brother. Logan shoots out a cough and sends Damion a dark look.
Great, time to clear things up before it gets out of hand. Stupid frickin brothers.
“Oh, chillax will you, the chances of me sneaking around with your buddy is even less than Jackson falling in love with a girl.” For some reason, Jackson goes taut as a drum, looking more than a little queasy around the edges. Guess even just the thought of loving someone makes him sick to his stomach.
“So, did you find a dress?” Ilkay asks. Oldest brothers always know things, like when to turn the conversation.
“OMG, you guys should see your sister’s dress, it’s so frickin sexy the guys are going to fall at her feet.” Lucinda decided to join the conversation eventually.
“I’m telling you, it’s so tight and the slit is so high, only a teeny-tiny G-string will fit under there.” And now I really wish she hadn’t. And judging by their faces, they’re getting a very warped image in mind.
“Ug, why did our parents curse us by having a little sister? Another brother would have been so much easier,” Enrique moans.
“Seriously!” I snort.
“Yes, we wouldn’t have to worry about every guy wanting to fuck you if you were a dude, now would we,” Jackson says and I just shake my head. Sometimes my brothers are worse than Damion.
“What about me worrying about every girl wanting to fuck you?” I change it around. They all laugh loudly.
“It’s different.” Logan sounds utterly sexist. But the truth is, I don’t worry about their sex lives. Why do they need to stick their noses into mine?
“Exactly …” I snip, “I’m not like you guys! I think if you put a vagina on a teapot, you’ll probably screw it.” I eyeball them straight; challenging them like usual. But also like usual, I don’t even dent those oversized egos of theirs.
“Hey, we have principles. We don’t just screw any old pussy?” Enrique lets out a low sympathetic laugh. “Except maybe for Jackson.”
“Hey,” the other twin snorts, “I have a taboo list. And I’m seriously thinking that a kettle hosting a vagina should be on there.”
“You have a taboo list?” I ask. More because I’m not actually sure what that involves.
“You don’t?” Lucinda straightens her glasses and blinks, presumably putting her world into sharp focus. I feel like such a prude.
“Hell, I don’t even have a to-do list.” That’s the honest truth. I don’t have any lists; or any experience; or any action. And it’s all because of them. And HIM.
“You guys ruin my sex life!” Logan chokes and spills his drink over Enrique who swears and jumps up, hitting Damion with his knee.
Ilkay mutters, “Shit,” and Jackson goes into some kind of frozen coma for a beat.
“Come again?” he bids slowly as his color returns.
“You guys are ruining my sex life.” Enrique grabs some paper napkins from the table and wipes over his drenched crotch.
“I didn’t realize you have a sex life?” Logan prods.
“I don’t, because of you.” I intertwine my fingers to keep my hands from shaking. “You hover over me and scare every man away.” Damion gives a sickening sanctimonious smile. I point at him. “And you with your frickin curse shit! Because of that, I’ve never experienced anything. Do you think only guys get horny?”
“Fuck,” Jackson bellows and presses his fingers to his eyes. Logan gags and mutters, “Please stop.”
“Ug, you guys are the human version of a headache.” I get up and go to the bathroom. I spatter some water on my face and stare into the mirror. Am I ever going to experience a real orgasm? Or am I going to die a virgin? Maybe I should just do it with Ren and get it over and done with. I keep on staring into my own eyes.
The door opens and Damion strolls in.
“This is the women’s bathroom.”
“I know.” He looks around. “Not nearly as enigmatic as I thought it would be.”
I choke out a laugh while he stares at me through the mirror.
“What are you doing?” he asks. I’m seriously uptight and he’s a big part of that uptightness.
“I’m having a debate whether I should stay a virgin forever or if I should sleep with Ren and get it over with.”
“He’s not your only option,” he says with absolutely no mockery in his voice. Because it is all in his eyes. But there’s also something else in that green stare. And that tugs a surprised breath from me, a little hum of helpless arousal. Okay, maybe he’s right.
He sets his hands on my hips and steps forward until his chest is tight against my back.
“One of these days you’ll have to admit that you want me as bad as I want you.” He butterflies his mouth to my neck, a motion that sends sparks through all 100 billion neurons in my brain. He lets go and I nearly fall to the floor.
“We’ll talk soon.” And then he’s gone. My phone farts. Holding onto the sink with one hand to support my noodle legs, I check it.
D Stalker: Warning – stay away from the biker!