Page 22 of sWitch

She sucked in a breath as I wrapped my arms around her, my fingers trailing up her forearms to her wrists. I slid my drumsticks into her grip and wrapped my hands around hers. “Wrist over wrist, like this.” I tapped the sticks to a drumand symbol. “People assume drums are about going hard. It’s actually about being soft, slow…intentional.”

“Oh, really?” she murmured, leaning back slightly into my embrace. “Like this?”

“Just like that… Let the beat build and build until it fades into the background like a pulse.” The scent of her rose and peach perfume had my mouth watering for a proper taste of her. I wondered if her panties were wet for me again as I held her close, her little knuckles in mine as I tapped a beat on the drums.

“I bet there’s a lot you could teach me,” she breathed. “There’s a lot I want to learn.”

That breathless confession held more than musical curiosity.

“As you can see, I’m an excellent teacher?—“

Fauna jumped as something clinked shut in the distance and the overhead lights dimmed. “What was that?”

I looked around, remembering where we were. “Looks like the mall arcade is now closed. Everyone’s gone. Kasey, the owner, must have assumed we left with the band and not checked the stage.”

To my dismay, Fauna jumped up, handing me back my drum sticks. “Do the games still work?”

I crossed my arms, noting how her gaze dropped to admire my biceps. “Indeed, they do.”

“Wanna play with me?”

“Do I ever.”

We stopped at a cowboy shooter game, and Fauna took the blue gun while I took the red. “Ready to get beat?”

I chuckled. “This ain’t V for Valin, darlin’. This here’s the wild west.”

She laughed and shot at a zombie cowboy. “Ugh, I hate that stupid game.”

That perked my attention as the arcade whirled around us like a neon fog. “You’re online playing it almost every hour of the day. I hardly think you hate it.”

“Stalker much?”

I shrugged and mirrored back to our first conversation. “I’mobservant.” My shoulder brushed hers. “And maybe a little bit of a stalker, yeah. So, if you hate it, why are you playing so much?”

“It’s a long story.”

With two hits, I took down her cowboy before leaning against the game and running a hand through my hair. “Spill it, princess.”

“Did all those piercings and tattoos hurt?”

“Changing the subject works on a lot of people—but not on me.”

She bit her lip and leaned in, washing me in the aroma of her sweet perfume again. I bit down on my lip rings to keep from groaning. “Beat me at pinball, and Imighttell you.”

As she skipped away in the direction of the vintage games, I watched the hem of her short dress bounce up to the tops of her thighs. I bit down on my barbell tongue piercing. Fuck me, she was so fucking hot.

But she was my brother’s girl, not mine.

Then why did she feel like mine?

We’d already crossed so many lines…lines a sibling who loved their twin should never dream of crossing. But as she pulled the lever and released the pinball, I found myself becoming unleashed as well. Standing behind her, I put my arms over hers and covered her hands with mine. “You’re trying to distract me so I lose,” she breathed, flicking her thumb to hit the pinball as it zigzagged down the slanted machine.

“Is it working?” I whispered into her ear, this time letting my lips dance along her pearl earring.

Her shoulder blades relaxed into my chest. “What are we doing?”

A loaded question, one I’d asked myself far few times during this sordid side quest.

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