Logan turns as red as a beet and looks humiliated. Where was I when all this happened? Seems I missed all the fun parts of my brothers’ lives.
“To my defense, all of you guys thought she … he was hot too,” Logan tries to explain to no avail. “And I was drunk.”
“My eyes never went past those implanted triple Ds,” Jackson smocks.
“Think we all got stuck at tit-level,” Ilkay jeers. “Never saw her … his face.” They all crack up again.
“Men,” Kiara gasps.
“Truth or dare my little brother,” Enrique smirks when he eventually stops laughing.
“Dare.” Enrique dares him to jump over the fire and my poor heart clenches as he runs towards the bonfire and somersaults right over it, landing safely on the other side in the sand. Logan holds his hands in the air as if he’s the king of the beach or something before sitting down again.
“Let’s just rather play plain truth or dare,” Axel suggests and we agree with him. Axel then looks at Alejandro.
“It’s your turn,” he says. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he says with the confidence of a nerd at a science fair.
“What was the scariest thing you did?” At least it’s not the sexual harassment type of question I was expecting.
“Telling my biological father that he was my dad,” he answers calmly.
“What!” I shout as I turn towards him, grab his shoulders, and shake. “You did it!”
He smirks coyly. “Yep, Sorella (Italian = sister), I did it.”
“When?”
“About a week or so ago.” His icy eyes taunt me. But I’m too excited for him.
“And you didn’t say a thing,” I chastise. “Rude.”
“We’re keeping it low-key for a bit,” he says calmly, “We want to get to know each other a little first. But I’ll introduce you when the time is right.”
I hold out my pinkie. “Promise.” He beams and locks his little finger with mine. “I promise.”
“So you’ve never met your father before now?” Logan asks. “Did he walk out on you?” Logan struggles the most with the fact that our dad just upt and left us.
“I thought so at first … but apparently, he never even knew I existed until a week ago. Shocker.”
“Are you really a seal?” Enrique asks and the boys start to talk about wars and guns and stuff I’m really not interested in. I get up and open one of the coolers. It’s stuffed with beer and booze.
“Did you bring any food?” I shout out, interrupting their conversation.
“No,” Enrique answers abruptly. “No one said to bring food.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Jackson says. Damion gets up and joins me at the cooler.
“I’ll take Mel to my mother’s to get some snacks,” he shouts at the guys. I know he’s doing it so we can be alone and talk in private.
“Make sure to bring us some too,” Kiara says. I give her a thumbs-up as I get into the Jeep. We drive in silence until the group is mere dots in the distance.
“Mel, I didn’t do anything with that girl,” he starts in utter seriousness and I struggle to keep a straight face. I think he deserves a little punishment.
“Jessie,” I say sternly. He gulps.
“I didn’t touch … eh … Jessie.” He seems rather bleak.
“I saw the photos.” I watch him swallow. “She was naked in your house.”
“But I wasn’t.” His beautiful Adam’s apple moves as he swallows again. He is anxious, the poor thing. But I hold my cool a little longer.
“Mel, I’m not going to fuck this up,” he says with so much intense sincerity it leaves me a little bomb-shocked. “You’re the only girl I want.”
“Really?” I say this in the most serious way I can master while suppressing my amusement. We turn toward his parents’ homestead and our friends are no longer visible.
“So, you’re telling me that -” I put my hand on his leg and slowly slide it into dangerous territory. “I’m the only one allowed to touch it.” I softly stroke him through his pants and smirk when ‘it’ reacts. I’m getting used to touching his penis.
He brakes so suddenly, my head almost hits the front window.
“Are you fucking me?” He turns and scans my face, acknowledging my mirth.
His eyes darken with blistering desire, but his voice is velvet soft, husky with emotion.
“Having fun, little angel?”
“Oh, definitely.” He pulls me in until I am straining over the console and then he covers my mouth with his. My hands circle around his neck.
Not wholly in charge of my faculties, I let out a low murmur of acquiescence, as he deepens the kiss. He groans into my mouth, and I dwell on the fact that he’s as lost as me.
The fusing of cheeky passion and raw vulnerability is intoxicating. Especially coming from someone like him. And I realize, there is only one devil that can raise the fires of hell, like a blazing inferno, in my body. I swear it feels as if I have a fever as my body temperature shoots up above 41C.
He pulls away and starts driving again.
“I’m taking you out,” he says. Just that. And I hope he means on a date and not with a gun.