Page 83 of The Spare
I lean in, placing my lips to her ear. "Of seeing just how many orgasms I could force out of you. Of seeing how long I could push you before you marked my back and begged me to stop. Of what you sound like when you're hoarse from it, screaming and crying until you're nothing but a limp, desperate and quivering pile of need, so sensitive that just the feel of my breath on your skin sets you off. Of what you look like when you can't take anymore, and I keep going anyway."
"Oh, Mase," her breath hitches in her throat but she presses closer, molding her curves to my body. "You're so damn selfish for thinking you were the only one that was robbed."
She nips my ear with her teeth, and I'm rock hard, straining against my pants.
"Ohhh, you fucking little bitch," I snarl, yanking her head back by her hair. She whimpers, and I feel her shaking against me. "We're not done," I say down at her, seeing her eyes wide open. "The second I kick them out you better run as fast as you can, sweetheart. Because when I catch you, I intend to finish what I started before we were so rudely interrupted."
"I can run faster than you," she whispers back defiantly.
I recoil my head, offended. "No, you can’t."
She'snotfaster.We're neck and neck, having raced each other many times.
"Yes, I can."
"No, you can’t."
"Yes, Ican."
I roll her clit hard, mercilessly manipulating it until her fingers dig into my shoulders and her legs begin to shake. "I'm the only one who gets this feisty attitude? Huh?" I question her.
At her silence, I pull my fingers out of her panties and make her watch me suck them clean. I let her hair go and smack her ass hard, sending her stumbling to the door.
Though she's embarrassed, I'm glad she's going to be by my side while I lay down some ground rules with my brother and his overprotective wife.
I set the wineglass down on the table with a clink before handing Melody her glass.
"Thank you," she says, taking a small sip.
"You're welcome." I pour Isobel a sparkling water and Hendrix and myself a scotch, sliding his over to him.
I don't drink mine, not yet. I don't even sit down. I stand behind Melody's chair and place my hand on her shoulder, squeezing. She stiffens and then tilts her head up to look at me, but I look at them instead, addressing Hendrix.
"I know that we haven't been the best of brothers, for reasons that we don't need to discuss right now, and for a lot of years I caused you grief and was just generally a huge asshole most of the time, but I thinkhave more than proved myself to youandto our father, whether he wants to talk to me about any of this or not."
Hendrix folds his arms and gives me a slow nod, his face so serious you'd think he was in a board meeting. Melody's hand comes up to cover mine on her shoulder, and she gives my fingers a squeeze.
"I am in love with Melody," I say quietly. "I haven't been with anyone else since I saw her almost four years ago. Hendrix didn't tell you, Isobel," my gaze slides to Isobel where she meets my gaze boldly. "Because he thought I didn't know what I wanted. That I'd get bored and move on after a while, but I knew. I knew clear as day that Melody belonged to me, and I belonged to her. He wasn't trying to keep you in the dark about anything."
Isobel turns her face to him when he turns to her, a look passes between them, and I just know without either one of them saying anything, that they've been fighting over us.
"I'm going to need you to cut off that Amex card, sell the car that you bought Melody that you store at your house, cancel her country club and SoHo memberships, and any other thing you pay for. Cut off her phone service, and limit your phone calls to her to no more than two times a week." Isobel's eyes almost pop out of her face, but I continue, unbothered. "And whatever other allowance you give her is done. Melody's my responsibility now," I finish.
Hendrix sits back in his chair and shoots back his whiskey. "Done," he says.
I pause at his words. He just gave me his respect, for probably the first time ever.
Holy shit.
I grin, and he gives me a grin back.
Isobel cracks her head over to look at him. "Hendrix!" she hisses. "Are you going to let him just-"
Hendrix turns his head slowly and pins her with a look that has my balls drawing up, because, damn, I take back my words about him going soft.
He's still got it.
Isobel's eyes go wide, and then she turns to place her gaze to the table in front of her. King meets my eyes, and for a minute, all of our sibling rivalry, our fights and bickering falls to the background as a new understanding passes between us.
