Page 45 of Nocturnal Sins
A balmy breeze blew by and I pulled in a deep breath. There was definitely rain in the air. It was thick with the scent that only wafts up before a storm.
“Do me a favor, Samira and stay home when I go with Pop to talk to Dom. Okay?” Santana touched my chin but he couldn’t stop himself there. Soon, his fingers were mapping out my neck and collarbones. Soon, I was in his arms, holding on to him and pulling his lips close to mine for a kiss.
“I go where you go. End of discussion,” I said quietly against his mouth.
“Goddammit, Sammie. Why the hell can’t I ever tell you no? You’re trouble, you know that little girl?” He grabbed my ass and I giggled then I stared into his dark eyes until I felt captivated.
“Good.” I locked my arms around his neck and rubbed the tip of my nose against his. His hands slid along my waist then under my shirt so he could toy with my navel ring. His fingers were both smooth and rough at the same time. The contrast made me shiver.
“I wish we were alone,” Santana whispered in my ear before nibbling on my earlobe. My eyes fell shut and I found myself wishing for the same thing. I wished I could pull down the night sky like a curtain and cloak us from prying, judging eyes.
“Me too, Daddy.” I rubbed the growing bulge in Santana’s pants and a low grumble vibrated his wide chest. I pressed my thighs together and let out a soft whimper. Santana did things to my body that were sinful as fuck. I already knew my panties were soaked that didn’t stop me from making out with him though.
“Hey, Sam. Your girls are looking for you.” Papa’s voice sent ice through my veins. Santana and I jumped apart and shared a brief moment where we locked eyes. We were both so fucked.
“Okay, thanks, Papa.” I rushed past him half-scared that he would whack me on my ass for being all over Santana that way. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Papa step outside to talk to Santana and my heart sank.
What would he say?
Would he hit Santana?
Shit, would Santana hit him back?
I rubbed my forehead and found the cheer squad to take pictures.
***
I crept in the house after the charity event was done. I took my shoes off just to walk through the house because something in the air was off. I had to find Santana. His truck was in the driveway but he hadn’t answered any of my calls or texts.
I broke away from the squad early just to make it back home in time. If Santana was going to get chewed out then I was going to take the same punishment.
I pulled out my phone and started to text Santana again but I heard footsteps heading down the stairs. I shoved my phone in my back pocket and rounded the corner.
A wave of relief washed over me when I saw Santana’s face. “Is Papa here? I don’t see his car.” I asked in a hushed voice. Santana shook his head, then rushed toward me and held me in his strong arms.
“What happened back at the restaurant?” I asked. We sat in his room shifting around on the bed in awkward silence
“Nothing. He asked me to come shoot with him early. He had Marco take over the grill.”
“You went shooting with Papa after he caught us making out? Have you lost your mind, Santana?”
“No,” he breathed, pushing a hand through his hair. God, he looked amazing when he did that. “What the fuck was I supposed to do? Tell him no?” He had a point.
“Well, what happened?” I asked, hungry for all the details. I ate them like morsels that my survival depended on.
We sat in his room and I found a home in his lap. Santana’s jaw flexed a few times before he spoke again. “He taught me how to have better aim. We worked on moving targets. He told me how to…” I cut his words short and held my hand up.
“Santana, I love you but get to the good shit. I don’t care about how shooting practice went. What did he say about us? I know he saw us. There was no way in the fucking world that he looked at us and thought it was totally platonic and something that all siblings do.”
Santana’s eyes lowered and he looked down at the carpet. “He didn’t say anything about it and that’s the fucking scary part, Sammie. We usually know what to expect from Pop. We know he flies off the handle and shouts and screams and if it’s me he’s pissed at then he’ll throw a few jabs my way.
This time though…he didn’t say anything. He only talked about how you and me used to be when we were kids.”
“Shit. He knows we’re fucking.” I tossed my hand in the air and let out a half-groan half-whimper. In the next blink, Santana had my face in his strong hand.
“We’re not just fucking, Samira. If we get in trouble or disowned or whatever the fuck because of what’s happening between us, I refuse to have anyone think that we’re just fucking.” He took a moment to breathe. I needed the same moment because I’d never seen Santana so passionate. It stole oxygen from my lungs.
“You’re right. We’re not just fucking. We’re together.” Those words felt good rolling off my tongue. They felt good in a way I would have never expected. I wanted to tell everyone. “How do we tell Papa that though? He’s our father no matter if we’re biological siblings or not. He raised us both, Santana. How can we tell him that we’re…together? It’ll break his heart. It’s probably breaking his heart right now.” I nibbled on my bottom lip thinking about how my father felt knowing about me and Santana.
