Page 8 of Devil's Own: Roughneck

“How do you take yours?” she asks, releasing me.

“A glug of milk and a scoop of sugar.”

“The perfect cup.” She walks over to the cupboard and damn—she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. Her ass sways as she walks and I’m bound and determined to take that ass before she leaves me.

Right then, there’s a pounding on my front door. “Watch the pans, will ya?” I call.

“Sure thing, Roughneck.”

I smile. “My friends call me ‘Rough.’ You in my bed, I think that constitutes friends.”

She laughs. “Right, Rough.” She gets one more kiss before jogging down the steps to reach the front door. Kissing her is addictive. That’s all I have on my mind when I unlock the door and swing it open to Vlad standing there looking surly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask.

“Where the fuck you been? Why haven’t you answered any one of our calls?”

That’s when I remember that I’d turned my ringer off last night. “Sorry, Dad. I promise I was in before curfew.”

Vlad snickers. “Shut it—that coffee I smell?”

“Boy, you’re astute this morning.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d have answered your damn phone. My wife was panting for my dick this morning and I had to put her off to haul my ass down here to check on you.”

“I don’t know why?”

His head jerks. “Are you serious? I could’ve sworn I saw you at Gruff’s funeral yesterday.”

Because we don’t know what happened to him, who attacked him, or what they wanted—right.

“My ringer is off. Forgot to turn it back on. Come on up for some coffee.”

He follows me up the steps into the kitchen and stops short. “What in the fuck is going on here?” he barks.

“Daniel?” Gia asks.

My body jerks. “Daniel?” At first, I assume she misidentified my president, but when he doesn’t correct her, and even more, he scowls at her, I have to believe that this shit is real. “Vlad, man, is your nameDaniel?”

“Gia’s my goddamn sister. Only she and Nic call me that. Tell me you didn’t fuck my sister.”

“Why do you care?” she demands.

“Because you don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you. It’s a cardinal rule in the brotherhood.”

“Number one, I had no idea that she’s your—”

“I don’t belong toyou.” Gia cuts me off and she has that pissed-off woman stance down. Hip cocked, arms folded over her massive tits, which is a feat in and of itself.

“You’re my sister.”

“I’m my own person. You haven’t seen me since you were fourteen. You don’t get to lay claim to me. I’m thirty-three fucking years old. Been a single mom for sixteen years. Who I fuck is my business.”

With Vlad’s head about to explode, I pour him a cup of coffee, splashing some milk in it, and walk it over. “Sit down so we can figure this out.”

“Nothing to figure out,” he snaps at me, not taking a seat or his coffee. “Gia, get dressed. I’m taking you up to the clubhouse. This”—he points between me and Gee—“is done. You don’t touch my sister again or I’ll fuck you up.”

“Whoa!” Now Gia’s head looks about ready to explode. “You donotget to tell me who I do or don’t sleep with.”

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