She’s smiling. A real smile, not one of the forced, fake ones she gives everyone else at school. This one is genuine, and I don’t miss the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she banishes them away. The girl has demons. Hell, hers might even be worse than mine.
I’ve got an overbearing pops whose expectations I never seem to measure up to. She’s got a dead mom and a cheating ex. What other damage is she hiding behind that smile?
Maybe that’s what draws me to her. I want to hurt her. Bite her delectable lips until they bleed. Caress her body until it bruises. I’m not a gentle lover. I kiss hard and fuck even harder. But I also want to protect her. Something in me wants to hold her. Mark her as mine and shield her from the world even as I strip her bare of all her protections and expose her to me and me alone.
The anticipation of having her builds inside me.
I never should have brought her here.
I put everything in the pot and set the time on the pressure cooker before making quick work of cleaning up the mess we made getting everything together.
“I’ll wash that,” Allie says, taking the cutting board from my hands as she moves to the sink. She then puts it back in the drawer I’d pulled it out of earlier. With her back to me, I step into her space and place my hands low on her hips. I dip my head down, drawing in her woodsy vanilla scent as my nose drags along her neck.
She sucks in a breath but doesn’t move. I draw her back until our bodies are flush with one another before trailing my lips down the column of her neck. She tilts her head to the side, granting me better access and fuck, her skin is so smooth. I nip and bite at the tender flesh. She hisses from the sting of pain but doesn’t pull away, surprising me, so I do it again. This time biting hard enough to leave a small bruise behind. I chase away the sting with a kiss and suck on her sensitive skin ensuring that she’ll carry my mark after the weekend is over.
One of my hands slides over her hip to trail up her stomach until I’m cupping one of her breasts.
“Roman…?” Her voice is quiet, hesitant.
There’s a question there but I can’t answer her. I don’t have the words for it, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, and I sure as hell am not going to admit that.
She cranes her neck to look at me and I see the same want and need inside of me reflected in her gaze. I’ve never cared what a girl is thinking about or what she might be feeling, but with Allie, I can’t help myself from wanting to figure her out. Does she miss her old school? Her old life? What is she planning to do once she graduates?
She’s become my obsession and even as I tell myself she’s nothing, no one, I dip my head down and capture her lips with mine, desperate to taste her. She gasps and I take full advantage, sweeping my tongue inside her mouth and drinking down her soft moans.
My other hand moves up to cup the back of her neck, angling her head more so I can deepen the kiss while I squeeze her breast, and fuck, does she have nice ones. Full and round. Just enough to fill my hand. I grip the plump flesh, satisfaction flaring within me when she arches her back, pushing her breast further into my grasp before twisting in my arms.
She’s so responsive. So fucking hot. Her arms come up to wrap around my neck. Her breasts press against my chest and I’m two seconds away from stripping her out of her clothes and fucking her right here on the kitchen counter when voices outside grow nearer.
She tears her mouth from mine. “Roman.” Her breathing is heavy. Her chest heaves up and down and I realize mine is, too. I want this girl, and I have no fucking idea why. I steel myself and mask the need to sink myself inside her, fitting a bored expression on my face as our eyes connect.
“I…” Her brows furrow as she takes in my expression. Confusion flashes over her features.
The voices grow louder and she takes a step back, trying to put distance between us, but I’m not ready to let her go. I grip her hips with bruising force, refusing to let her back away. She’s not the one in control here. I am.
The door to the cabin opens and Emilio strides in, Dom hot on his heels.
“I told him you’d be busy,” Dominique says in way of greeting. I lift a single brow as if to say the interruption is of little consequence.
Emilio’s still got two girls, one under either arm beside him. He’s got that junior chick from earlier on his right and Silvia on his left. I can tell he’s drunk. His eyes are glazed over and he has a stupid happy smile on his face as he takes in the scene in front of him. “Hey, vanilla. You going to bang my bro, Rome, tonight?” It’s all I can do not to punch him in the face. Silvia’s eyes shoot to Allie and she visibly stiffens. I step forward, blocking Allie from view and Dominique smacks Emilio upside the head, muttering “stupid fucker,” under his breath.
“Hey!” Emilio cries out, rubbing his head as if Dominique actually hurt him. We both know it’s all an act. “Not cool, man. What the hell?”
Dominique points down the hallway. “Take your women to your room or send them on their way.” He takes a deep inhale before a grin spreads across his face. He’s had a few, too, because Dom isn’t usually one for smiles. “Roman’s cooking tonight.”
Emilio perks up like a five-year-old about to get an ice cream cone or some shit and his gaze snaps toward me. “You cooked?”
I nod.
“What’d you make?” He’s all but forgotten about the two girls with him. Silvia and the other chick whose name I don’t know and have no interest in learning stand just behind him with worried expressions on their faces. Looks like things aren’t going as they’d hoped.
“Albóndigas,” I tell him.
His smile widens and he turns. “Ladies, it’s been real.” He ushers them back to the front door despite their protests. Silvia is clearly digging her heels in, not liking that she’s being shown the door.
“But, Emilio. I thought we were gonna party,” she whines.
“Sorry, uhhh…” He pauses and gives her an apologetic look.
Her mouth drops open and her eyes narrow before she responds with a drawn out, “Silvia.”
He snaps his fingers together. “Right. Silvia. Sorry. Something came up. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Her cheeks heat and she pushes out her bottom lip. “You haven’t even asked for my number yet.”
He grins at her. “I’ll get it. I have my ways. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”
Before she can respond, he gives her and her friend one last little push and closes the door behind them. Then he turns back to me. “I just gave up some prime pussy so you better feed me, fucker.”
We all laugh. “You’ve got ten more minutes. Go find something to watch and I’ll get tortillas going.”
He nods and then moves toward Allie.
I growl.
“Hey, man. I was just gonna show your girl around. Chill.”
I glower at him. He doesn’t need to show her around anything. Knowing Emilio, the first place he plans to show her is his bedroom. Dominique knows this too, and interrupts before things have a chance to get heated. I might claim disinterest when it comes to Allie but I am anything but disinterested in her and I do not share my toys with others. I want to know everything about her. To own all her secrets and learn all her desires. I need ammunition against this girl. She already has too strong a hold over me.
“Wanna help pick the movie for tonight?” Dom asks her.
Her brows pinch together and she gives us all an assessing look. I can tell what she’s thinking. It’s written all over her face. We’re the grade-A assholes of Sun Valley High. The Devils. So why are we holed up in our cabin when it’s barely midnight instead of partying it up outside with everyone else? And what she probably wants to know even more than that is why the hell we’re being nice to her when all week we’ve pretended she doesn’t exist.
Dominique answers her first unspoken question. “We’re beat from the game today. And that out there,” He throws a thumb toward the direction of the front door. “Isn’t our scene.”
Her lips purse. “You guys don’t party?”
“Oh, we party.” Emilio chuckles and gives her a suggestive look. “But we do it on our terms and we don’t need wannabe assholes around to do it. Besides, today was a game day. That means tonight is a recovery night and Roman is a greedy bastard who doesn’t cook for us often. We gotta enjoy it while we can.”
“Oh. Okay.” She follows Dom towards the sofa and he gives me a quick nod before showing her to our DVD stash. We don’t have WiFi out here, so streaming something isn’t an option.
As they dig through the movie selection, Emilio heads to his room and comes back in a pair of sweatpants. He’s still got his ridiculous bikini on over them but he walks in like he’s the hottest shit there ever was. I chuckle under my breath. The guy’s got no shame.
Allie hides her smile behind her hand when she spots him. “You don’t have to keep that on.” She’s taken the corner spot on the sectional and has the throw blanket tucked tight around her body. Is she cold? Do I care? I frown, not wanting to examine my feelings where her well-being is concerned.
Emilio looks down at himself, a smug expression on his face as he says, “I mean, I’m all for rocking my birthday suit, but I don’t think these two would appreciate it.”
“I was talking about the swimsuit,” she says. I watch as heat creeps up her cheeks. She has the prettiest blush.
“What? I look damn fine in this thing.” He cups his junk over the ridiculously bright fabric. “Pink is my color. Besides, a bet is a bet.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me. “It’s just the four of us. You don’t have to wear it either. But I’m holding you to wearing it anytime you step outside this cabin this weekend. Fair is fair.” Her lip curls into a satisfied smirk giving away that she’s a hint competitive. I’ll have to file that bit of information away for later use.
“I can get behind that.” I untie the black top and toss it on the counter just as the Instant Pot beeps letting me know it’s finished. I turn on the comal—a cast iron griddle of sorts—and warm up tortillas before portioning out the soup. Normally I’d make them serve themselves but I don’t want Dominique eating all of it in one go. Emilio and I are used to home cooking. Dom’s not, and every time it’s offered the man wolfs it down as though he’s been starved.
My mom practically lives in the kitchen and there is always something hot and ready as soon as I or my pops walk in the door. But Dom’s parents are rarely home and dinner is almost always some catered solitary affair. It’s why Emilio and I try and have him over to our houses for dinner throughout the week. No one should eat alone. Food is meant to be enjoyed with family and those two fuckers are as family as it gets for me.
“Grab your food,” I tell the guys as I grab two bowls, handing one to Allie. Then I go back for the tortillas and place a few on a napkin on the empty seat beside her. I sit down and tug some of the blanket from her lap. I don’t actually want it, but I want an excuse to be close to her. I haven’t had the chance to catalog her features. To memorize her expressions so I know exactly what she’s feeling when she’s feeling it.
“Hey!” Her eyes narrow and there’s visible tension in her shoulders.
“I’m in my underwear. It’s cold.” I lie because I’m definitely not cold, but I really want under the blanket now.
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t object again. Score one for this Devil.
Dominique gets the movie going and credits begin rolling as we all dig into the meal.
Allie moans and I fight back a smirk. There’s something satisfying about knowing she likes it. That she’s enjoying something I made for her. “This is so good. I haven’t had albóndigas since—”
She cuts herself off and I turn to look at her. She blinks rapidly then stares down at her bowl like she’s fighting back tears. I take in her bottom lip as it wobbles. The red splotches that appear beneath her eyes as if she’s already cried her eyes out.
An unfamiliar jolt of something I don’t want to realize hits me in the chest. Fuck. She hasn’t had albóndigas since her mom died. That’s what she’d been about to say.
Emilio sees her reaction and meets my gaze with a concerned look of his own. I lift my shoulders just enough as if to say I have no fucking clue what’s set her off, because I sure as shit am not about to share her secrets with him. They’re mine, and mine alone. But in typical Emilio fashion, he saves the night with a wise ass joke.
“Damn, Allie. You can’t moan like that over soup. My head’s going all sorts of directions after hearing that sexy noise out of you.”
She laughs but there’s a hiccup in there. “You’re such a guy.” She throws a tortilla at him before swiping one of mine to replace the one she just lost. I pretend not to notice.
“Don’t hate. I can’t help I was born with one of these.” He grabs himself underneath the bright pink bikini bottoms covering his sweats and then takes a big bite out of the tortilla she hit him with.
She groans again, this time in feigned annoyance. “I don’t even know what to do with that statement.” This time, her voice isn’t as tight, and some of the redness has receded from her face.
“Yo. Pipe down. Movie’s starting,” Dominique cuts in, and all of our attention goes back to the screen just as Norman Reedus and Sean Patrick Flanery appear on-screen and walk past the priest to kiss Jesus’s feet.
Emilio groans, cocking his head to one side before shaking it. “Boondock Saints. Again?”
To which Dom replies, “Don’t gripe at me. Allie picked it. Girl’s got good taste. Not our fault you don’t.”
Emilio harrumphs but leaves it be and focuses on the albóndigas as we all turn our attention to the screen.
As soon as Allie finishes her food, I whisk the bowls back to the kitchen. The movie is almost halfway through and it’s just now getting to the good stuff.
I reclaim my seat and tug at her blanket once more. She scowls at me and tugs some of it back so I jerk at it again. This time I’m met with a glare. “What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Shhh—” Emilio snaps, engrossed in the show. He might complain about how often we watch this movie when we come out here but he loves it just as much as we do.
Ignoring Allie’s question, I lift the blanket and shift closer until our sides are pressed up against one another. I wrap one arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to my chest while adjusting the blanket until it comfortably covers the two of us.
Her body stiffens for just a moment before she relaxes against me and a small thread of satisfaction filters through me. One of her hands presses to my chest right over my heart and I wonder if she can feel it pounding. This girl makes me feel things I’m not entirely sure I want to feel.
My eyes stray to the teal bracelet on her wrist. She’s worn it every time I’ve seen her. Is it sentimental or something? The urge to ask her about it is strong but I hold myself back, unwilling to expose just how much she intrigues me.
Allie definitely isn’t like other girls. Those girls want to get with me or my boys because we can do something for them. If they’re connected to one of us, their social status goes up. Even if all we do is sleep with them, more guys after that will want them. They want what the Devils have had.
Allie doesn’t seem to care about any of that. She doesn’t seem to care about status or power.
And knowing that draws me to her even more.
