Her one hand clings around her neck as if she’s going to strangle herself, her eyes now on my chest and I’m speculating that she’s not only thirsty from the drugs alone. She’s attracted to me almost as much as I’m to her. This makes me smile.
I hand her one of the energy drinks. She gulps it down and I watch the movement of her jugular notch. Why is everything she does so fucking cute and sexy?
“Can we watch Vampire Diaries?”
“Anything, but we need to do it downstairs.” She frowns. “Your brothers still have keys.”
I help her down the stairs.
“You should really get those back,” she says as soon as I get onto the sofa behind her. I hand her some pain pills and she swallows them down with some water.
My mind drifts away from the TV, thinking about tonight. How did he spike the drinks under Logan and Axel’s noses? How did he get out of the bathroom undetected? Did he use the window? Or is he someone familiar? And what about the sister who has it in for Enrique?
“He was there.” She’s almost asleep, so I’m not sure if she’s dreaming or speaking to me.
“What?”
“Harry … he was there that day in the haunted house. He’s the monster that fired the gun.”
Date = 13 November
Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house)
POV – Melaena
I wake up with a jump, coughing frantically as a bunch of water is dumped on my face. I holler as the now wet shirt clings to my body and I glare to find whoever is responsible for this brutality. My eyes fall on my oh-so-lovely doggone cotton-picking brother, the evidence of the crime still in his hand. He grins from ear to ear before sprinting away.
“Jackson blooming Blackburn!” I scream while pulling back the blanket from my soaked body and bolt after him.
“I’m going to kill you and then make sure your sperm can’t reproduce!” I hear him howling from somewhere in the house and I run point-blank into a hard solid chest. Strong arms grab my waist and hoist me in the air before I can fall smack on my face.
“Careful, girl.” He’s dressed in faded jeans and a T-shirt.
From behind his friend, Jackson watches me with a huge grin and I feel like slapping him to smithereens. Damion drops me on my feet and tilts his head.
“You’re wet.” His eyes land on my chest, the wet tee accentuating my breasts and nipples. Which is turning hard. Dammit.
“Ghee, wonder how that happened? Ask the bloody idiot behind you!”
“Let me get you a dry shirt.” He walks me up the stairs and hands me yet another one of his sweaters. I wonder how many pieces of clothing the man has and who’s doing his laundry.
“Here.” He hands over my bag with my dance gear and I recall I went to the club straight after practice.
“Great, at least there’s a bra in there.” Not sure why I said that out loud. His eyes heat and focus on where the wet shirt clings to my breasts with those two stiff teats. My pussy twitches and to redirect my focus I slowly wipe my hands over the wet shirt, from my breasts down my body, hoping to hide the two popped nuggets. He grabs the top of my arms.
“I haven’t fucked in over a year – you’re pushing my every limit of self-control.” His voice changed to a deep gruff croak.
I start to roll my eyes, then freeze when he very lightly scrapes his teeth over my earlobe. My breath hitches out a very satisfying moan, and he kisses the spot before letting go of me.
The fluttering sensation down under pushes up and I almost gag. The urge to stick my fingers into my pants and scratch the itch is overwhelming.
I hear him chuckle as he walks downstairs saying: “Dude, was that necessary?”
“Of course! I owe her for making me worry,” Jackson gives another deep laugh. I shake my head. I don’t get how my brother’s head works, but I’ll get the little bastard back, that’s a promise.
Maybe I must raise my disappointment to the little cocksucker’s parole officer … or whatever he’s called … because he’s way too chirpy for a guy who just finished a 6-hour flight after completing his ‘punishment’ in New York. I wonder if I could complain directly to the President himself. He should have thrown the fountain-bathing trespasser into jail for a week. At least.
I grab my shorts and sports bra and pull on Damion’s shirt and my sneakers. I’m thinking of going for a jog later on to clear my head and work out whatever is left of the drugs.
“Mel, breakfast is ready!” Jackson shouts and I grunt while walking into the kitchen. Damion hands me a cup of coffee and although I still feel like strangling my sibling, I work up a smile.
“To be continued,” Damion whispers in my ear as he walks past me to put a plate full of delicious scrambled eggs and bacon on the counter. I’m not sure if he means this is one of the meals to make me fall in love, or if he wants to continue whatever happened upstairs.
The boys converse about an upcoming race while chomping on their food – not MotoGP, but MotoCross – right here in The Golden City.
“Can we girls come too? I’ve never been to one.” That’s a lie. Kiara and I have secretly been to some of his races over the years, hiding in the crowd. And I always watch the races on TV if I can. But this will be the first time going to a race openly with my brothers.
Jackson looks at Damion as if they’re sharing a secret – both looking a little uncomfortable.
“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t go?”
“Ohm, the press, Damena!” Jackson says sarcastically.
“Oh, I forgot.” Stupid bloodthirsty paparazzi always have to ruin everything. Sometimes I wonder how my brothers cope with their hectic lifestyles … constantly flying around the world; being in the spotlight; having no privacy at all.
It’s not a life I want.
However, I understand that if I further pursue this thing with Damion, it will become my entire existence. He warned me about that. Am I ready?
Truthfully – I’m not sure. What if he stomps on my heart right in the public face this time?
Him, breaking my heart, will be unbearable to survive again … what to say with the whole world watching … how do I survive that?
Damion looks at Jackson as if waiting for him to give permission. Jackson shrugs his shoulders and pulls his mouth into a lopsided grin.
“Ug, okay droopy, you and Kiara can go with us,” Jackson says. Suddenly I remember Kiara was also drugged.
“Where’s Kiara?”