Page 22 of The Second Deal

Ihave to pry myself fromAdrian’spillowy-soft bed after rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.Gradually,Ishuffle over to the window and peep outside.

TheHellcatandTacomaare both in the driveway.

Fuck.

MaybeIcan sneak away without either of the twins noticing.

Yankingmy clothes back on,Itake a quick glance aroundAdrian’snew room that’s huge and completely different from his teen boy room.Thewalls are devoid of band posters and painted a bright white, and a lapis lazuli bedspread adds color to the room’sSpanishrevival style that matches the rest of the house.Blackwalnut built-ins span the complete length of the far wall, stuffed to the gills with books—way more than he had beforeIleft.

Blackcandles dot the shelves with a couple of saint statues, a single black rosary, and an assortment of knick-knacks.Pickingone up to examine more closely, my eyes widen andIsuddenly drop it.

Teethand bones.

Ihave to shake off the shock.

TheRamosfamily owns a popular botanica in the city—they’re brujas y brujos, and sometimes their work goes into dark places.Ijust rememberAdrianalways thumbing his nose at it, thinking brujeria and theCatholicfaith he was raised in both were hokey.Maybehe’s changed his mind about it and gotten into the darker side of things with dried blood on some of the remains.

Wipingmy hands on my shorts,Icrack the bedroom door open just enough to check for movement.Gradually,Icreep down the hall, all the while keeping an eye on the other end of the house to make sureZakdoesn’t suddenly appear.

Someone’sin the kitchen opening and shutting cabinets.

Backpressed against the wall,Itake a deep breath before cautiously peeking around the corner.

TheRamostwin in the kitchen has short hair and not so many tattoos.

Whenhis back is turned,Ileap across the doorway to hide behind the other wall soAdriancan’t see me.Mycore muscles tremor asIpeek around another corner into the great room to make sureZakisn’t hanging out in there.

Allclear.

Islip out of hiding and make a dash for the front door.

“Ay, princesa.Noneed to duck and run.”

Istop in my tracks, spinning around to findAdrianeyeballing me from the hallwayIjust came with a steaming mug at his lips.He’sshirtless, fully showing off the tattoos adorning his upper half and his nipple piercing.Hisgym shorts cling to hips that dip into a deliciously softVpointing south.

Myeyes meetAdrian’sagain, and his brow quirks. “Zak’sstill passed out.”

Okay,nowIcan breathe.

“Youwant coffee?”

Iclear my throat. “Ah… maybe not.Thanks.”

Hedraws closer. “Okay.”

Westare at each other for an uncomfortably long moment beforeIstart to back away, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder. “Ireally should be going.”

Adriansteps forward and grabs my jaw beforeIhave the chance to run, planting his mouth squarely on mine.

White-hot flashes pulse through my body, and memories of last night linger behind closed eyelids.Notof images, but of sensations and moans, ofAdrianmaking me come over and over, torturing me untilIcouldn’t even groan or whisper his name.

Mythighs rub together when memories of coming so hard, so much sting.Myclit electrifies, and my pussy throbs.Iknow he hears me whimper softly.

Whenhe finally pulls away andIstart breathing again, he studies my face in a way that feels far too intimate for the morning after a rough hate-fuck.

“Reallywish you’d stick around,”Adrianfinally murmurs, hand firmly cradling my jaw.Hisblack hair is disheveled, like he got up not too long ago and has run his hands through it repeatedly. “Eventhe house hasn’t felt the same with you gone.”

Ishake his grip loose and step back. “It’syour faultIleft.”

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