Sneak Attack (19 page)

“Tell me,” I said.

She remained bent over but every part of her braced. The muscles beneath my fingers jumped and twitched before going utterly still. “I’m good for more. Let’s spar again.”

“Mia.”

“I need more mat work. I’m getting better at that leg spin and takedown move you showed me, but my ankle still keeps twisting outward instead of in. If we could just do it a few more times, I’d get it.” She was trembling now, and an answering quaver resounded deep inside of me.

If something had unnerved her this badly, there was reason.

“I’ll get it,” she said again into the silence, and the way her voice broke at the end made me shut my eyes. “Just a few more tries. Please.”

I wrapped my arms around her midsection and pulled her back into my arms, pressing my mouth to her cheek. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

“No. I can’t.” She broke out of my hold and whirled to face me, hands on hips. The fever brightness in her eyes heralded madness or tears, or a mix of the two. “Fight me, you bastard.”

This was what I could do for her. I could make her sweat out the pain that had her in knots, even if I didn’t know its cause. I could exhaust her until she finally sagged in my arms and let me love her, even if it only happened when she had nothing left to give.

Being with her meant loving her the way she needed, not the way I did. I was lucky that sometimes we met in middle.

Tonight we’d be going all the way to the end of the line.

I didn’t give her warning before I charged at her, knocking her off her feet and rolling to the mat beneath us. She let out a startled noise but corrected in mid-air, and we landed with her on top of me. Hands already fisted, she pummeled me, attacking whatever parts she could reach. She didn’t go easy on me because we were in love. No, she tried to break me to see if I could take it.

Like she took it every goddamn day.

Some part of me wanted to let her burn herself out this way. It would be quicker, but less satisfying for her—and me. I rolled her again, pinning her easily, and caught her leg, twisting it up over my shoulder and raising her hips and back off the mat. Panting hard, I lowered my face to hers, wanting to kiss her, to bite and mark her the way she’d branded me from the inside out, but she averted her head and kicked out, wrapping her free leg around the back of my thighs and reversing our positions. I wasn’t even sure how she’d managed it. But I was on my back again, and she was hauling my arms above my head, her eyes glowing with that unholy gleam that signaled she was sure she had me down and out.

Not so fast.

I swept her bent leg out from under her and she went down with a crash that would’ve made me pause if she hadn’t sprung right back up like a damn inflatable dummy. She attacked me with a series of jabs, forcing me back on my knees until I bent low and caught her around the waist, driving her onto her back. I caught her arms and locked them behind her head, pressing my erection into her pelvis, rocking it until she stopped squirming and went still, shock contorting her features.

“Cheater,” she panted, already arching upward to rub her hardened nipples against my chest. “You better fuck me hard enough that I can’t walk, or you’re dead.”

A challenge I was happy to accept.

“I’m going to let you go, and you’re going to take me out. If you take too long, I’m going to flip you and take you from behind. All ways from behind,” I grated, and the arousal that flared in her eyes wasn’t exactly a denial.

But that wasn’t for today. Today was for her pussy and my cock, and her heartbeat raging against mine.

As soon as I released her arms, I went on guard. She was a fighter to the last, and the promise of a thorough fucking wouldn’t dissuade her from trying to get the upper hand. But she went right for my shorts, tugging on the ties and swiftly freeing my sore cock from my cup. She grasped it in both hands, pulling hard, dragging me up her body until my mouth slanted down on hers. Her tongue slashed between my lips while her sweat-slickened, wrapped hands worked my dick.

After a minute, she swore and turned her head to start ripping the tape off her hands with her teeth. “Gotta feel you. Need your skin. Help me.”

I grabbed the other and did the same, attacking her the way that felt right. We’d gone past civilization right toward feeding like animals. Her flushed, damp skin was my sustenance, and each piece of tape I ripped away gave me more to feast on.

By the time her hands were bare, we were both panting and rocking against each other like frustrated beasts. She grabbed me again and let out a moan, her fingers moving in a blur over my thick, throbbing length.

“In me. In me. In me.” She chanted it, lifting her hips and beseeching me with her dark, drugging eyes to get her naked. I couldn’t yank her yoga pants down fast enough. I tore her tank upward and ripped open her bra, pulling apart the snaps hard enough to make some of them go flying. Neither of us cared.

I fell on her mouth again and shoved open her sticky slick thighs, surging into her all the way to the root. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. With one hand gripping her swollen breast, I hiked her leg around my waist and drove in again, cursing that I couldn’t get deep enough. She read my anguish and braced her elbows, rising up far enough that her body became an erotic bridge. Every part of her open, pink and quivering for me.

“Yes, God, yes,” she moaned as I thrust into her without cease. I couldn’t stop. I needed to fix her. Fix me.

I slammed forward again and again, shaking both of our grip on sanity until black spots danced in my vision, obscuring everything but her gorgeous, demanding face.

“More,” she begged, and I gave it to her, thrusting into her so hard that my spine tingled and the ache in my balls turned into nails of heat. I couldn’t fuck her hard enough to chase away the fear in her eyes, and it was killing me.

Her thighs trembled on either side of my hips as she forced herself wider for my entrance. Knowing I’d ram into her again and again until we were both spent, until words didn’t exist anymore.

I clenched her breast, pinching her nipple until it bloomed red. I sucked on it while I punished her pussy, giving her the pain she craved and somehow turning it into a kind of healing for us both. Nothing could harm us here. Not the outside world, and not each other. Pain transmuted into pleasure, the kind that erased everything that had come before. Burning the slate clean.

Bodies fused, mouths locked, we fell into the darkness together.

On the other side, she reached for me, her arms curling around my head. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered, the words scorching my cheek. “I’ll die without you.”

“Never.” I fumbled for her mouth and fed her my breath when hers stuttered. “You’re everything. My everything.”

She squeezed her legs tighter around me and pressed her mouth to mine. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

I didn’t know if she meant the fight itself or something else entirely. As much I wanted to ask, to demand she tell me what was causing her to shake in my arms, I couldn’t use a crowbar on her heart. The rest of her, yes. But not this.

She had to want to tell me, and I had to trust she knew what she was doing. It was getting easier with every breath.

I couldn’t love her this much and not believe in her with everything I was. I had to be strong enough for us both.

“You’re doing the right thing.”

Her lips trembled under mine and then she was kissing me harder, more desperately. “Once more,” she pleaded, and there was no way I could say no.

I needed her every bit as much.

Rising up, I stroked the wet hair away from her beautiful face. And I sank her into again, groaning at how perfectly right it was.

She was lying and keeping secrets from me, and this was all I knew how to do.

Loving her until it didn’t matter anymore.

I
came
home Thursday night from an abbreviated shift at Vinnie’s to Mrs. Knox sitting at our kitchen table, sorting through the box of things she’d brought over the week before. My sister was sitting across from her, smiling over the photos and other mementoes while they chatted. Carly still wore her Cooks Do It Better T-shirt that she’d worn to class that morning, and I wanted to know how school was going since we’d barely gotten a chance to speak all week.

But I dropped my backpack next to the sleeping bag where Tray and I now spent each night, and sat at the table to look through the relics of a broken family.

He had class tonight, and a test. He hadn’t been studying, and in fact, hadn’t even intended to go this evening until I reminded him tomorrow wasn’t the end of our lives. We’d still wake up Saturday morning. We’d still be together, and Carly’s giggles would still ring in my ears when I closed my eyes. Every moment I’d lived through until this point was worth it, as long as my baby sister was still laughing.

I was fighting with everything I was to ensure that would remain true.

“Look at this picture of Fox,” Carly said, sliding the faded snapshot across the table to me. “He’s almost naked.”

Carly’s loud laughter brought Vey running as if she’d called him for dinner. He’d spent all week at the groomer’s, who happened to also be Tray’s friend. The apartment was crowded enough that adding the pup to the mix seemed like overkill, but we’d both missed him. His happy yips and the way he stood on his hind legs with his paws in my lap made me grin in spite of the sharpened blade I could feel against the back of my neck every time I took a full breath.

This was normalcy, and I’d do battle with Satan himself to hold onto it.

“Yeah, check out that droopy diaper.” I laughed at the picture, running my thumb over the corner to smooth the curled edges. I wanted to make a scrapbook. I’d meant to do that with Carly’s pictures for years, the ones taken after Mom had died, but I’d never gotten around to it.

Now I would. I had a family, and I wanted to keep their pictures close and within reach.

Ruffling Vey’s butter-soft fur, I glanced at Mrs. Knox. Her deep blue eyes, so like her son’s, were more than a little misty. “Would you mind if I kept this one?”

“No. You can keep whichever ones you would like. That’s why I brought them here. I wanted you to have some.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“I know Elliott and I haven’t always been the best to you,” she said quietly, her attention solely on the photo of Tray I still clutched. “We didn’t think you were the right influence for Tray.”

“I’m not.” I shrugged as her head came up in surprise. “No arguments there.”

“Bullshit,” Carly said, shaking her head. “Some people go together like PB & J. You’re so his peanut butter, Ame. Don’t even try to deny it.”

I started to issue the standard responses.
He could do better than me. This isn’t going to last. He’ll get tired of me eventually.
All my usual fears, the ones that used to keep me up at night until possibly losing the people I love had become a real possibility. Now none of that mattered anymore.

“He’s my heart.”

It took me a moment to realize I’d spoken aloud. And then I forced myself to sit there stoic in the face of the truth, not shying away from it. If I could physically face anyone who dared step into a ring with me, I could admit I loved my boyfriend to my sister and his mother.

I could admit to myself how much I had to risk.

“As you’re his,” Mrs. Knox said finally, giving me a faint smile. “It wasn’t easy to see at first. He’s my baby boy. My only child.”

“Like I am with Carly.”

She startled at that. “But Carly’s your sister.”

“She’s all I’ve had for so many years. I didn’t know how to let anyone in.” I reached across the table to brush my hand over her long, flowing hair, smiling a little as she ducked her head and pushed my hand away. “No one is good enough for her. It’s not possible. If I could keep her in a protective bubble forever, I would.” I met her shining blue eyes and swallowed. “I’d give up my own life to see her safe. Without thought.”

Mrs. Knox nodded, her throat working. “You do understand.”

“You can’t say stuff like that anymore. Can’t think it either. You have more than just me now.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” But having more than her in my life didn’t change reality. If it ever came down to me or Carly, I’d take the fist—or the bullet. I couldn’t face the alternative.

“Besides, I’m good. I’m in school now, and I’m rocking it. I’m going to be a world-famous chef in no time.” Her bravado rang slightly false, a note played just out of key. But I didn’t question it, because I wanted to believe with every fiber that it was true.

We were all going to be just fine.

“Speaking of food, I don’t suppose you have anything in mind for dinner? I’ve gotten used to your wonderful cooking very quickly.” Mrs. Knox asked. Even Vey laid his snout hopefully on the table.

“Oh, I do.” She clapped her hands and rushed over to the counter. “I got a great recipe for spanakopita from a classmate today. Thought we could do some baklava too, make it a total Greek feast.” She pulled out the spinach and the phyllo dough, then turned to glance my way. “When will the boy be home?”

The door opened on cue, as always. Seriously, I swore Tray stood in the hall waiting to make an entrance. And this time he’d brought reinforcements, also known as Slater and Giovanni. “Make that boys, plural.”

“And girl,” Kizzy called, bringing up the rear of the motley crew.

“Can’t forget her.” Tray shot me an apologetic glance. He knew I wasn’t up for big gatherings on the best of nights, and it was the evening before the fight. He crossed the room to brush a kiss over my head and dropped to his knees to wrestle with Vey. “I headed to the gym to pick up some stuff after class and picked up this bunch too.”

“Where are we going to put all these people, Trayherne? There aren’t enough seats at the table—” As if she’d just realized she wasn’t home, Mrs. Knox fell silent.

“We’ll grab seats on the sofa and the floor, Mrs. K. No worries.” Slater headed over to kiss her cheek. He then strolled into the kitchen and pinched Carly’s butt. “What’s happening, hot stuff?”

“Asshole.” But she laughed as she spun around to give him a hug, holding her dripping spatula over his shoulder. “What’s—” She broke off as she noticed Giovanni lurking by the door, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anyplace else. “Jeez, brought home enough peeps, Fox?” Because I knew my sister better than anyone in the world, I could see how much she was struggling to act casual. “How am I supposed to feed all these people?”

“I can run to the store,” Giovanni offered, his hand already closing around the knob.

I felt his pain. The sheer amount of bodies in my small apartment—though I loved them all, minus Gio himself—was a little boggling.

This might be the first and last time I ever had anything in common with Giovanni Costas.

“No, we’re fine. I always buy extra so there’s leftovers anyway.” Carly eased away from Slater and turned back to the stove. Normally she would’ve kept the conversation going as she cooked, but not tonight.

One guess why.

“I’m going to go lay down for a bit before dinner,” Mrs. Knox announced, shuffling her mementoes of Tray back into their box.

“Hey, hey, hold it. Look at this gem.” Slater snatched a snapshot of Tray wearing Captain America underwear and brandishing a toy sword. “Holy shit, this is going right up on EBay. Former hot shot fighter, stripped down to his skivvies. I’d make a mint.”

“Give me that.” Tray leaned across the table and snatched it out of Slater’s hand. Well, tried to. A minor tussle occurred, with Mrs. Knox racing to get the rest of her photos put away before the idiots ripped them to shreds in their tug-o-war.

“Did someone say boys in skivvies? Hell the fuck yeah.” Kizzy lurched across the table and made her own grab for the photo.

And promptly tore it in two.

“Called it,” I said under my breath, shaking my head.

“Hey, I got the dick half. Aces.” Catching Mrs. Knox’s less than amused stare, Kizzy cleared her throat. “Uh, hi there, Mrs. Knox. Sorry about the picture. Yo, Carlsbad, we got any Super Glue up in this joint?”

“Carlsbad?” Tray muttered, standing up as Vey abandoned him to make the rounds around the room to all the new visitors. He sniffed everyone and happily wagged his tail as he got his usual head pats and requisite loving.

Then he meandered over to Giovanni and settled down atop his shoes as if he didn’t intend to move for the rest of the evening.

Giovanni crouched to stroke his flank, murmuring softly to his new friend. For the first time, he didn’t look as ill-at-ease as I felt. Not that I cared.

Not your friend. Not anything to you.

Just because Tray had decided they were pals all of a sudden didn’t mean I intended to follow suit. Even if I had been weakening in that direction—which I absolutely was not—I still didn’t like the way he looked at my sister. Or the way she reacted to him. Every time they were in the same space, I wanted to go take a cold shower from all the damn sexual vibes.

And that’s when they weren’t looking at or talking to each other. I didn’t want to be around when and if that changed.

“How’s your new boyfriend, Carly Ann?” I asked, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Probably our neighbor in 3C had even heard.

She continued chopping vegetables. Maniacally. If she kept that up, she’d need carpal tunnel surgery in no time.

“Not sure which boyfriend you mean, Mia.”

Her tone indicated I should drop the subject. But who was I to take subtle warnings?

“You know, the guy you slept with last week from the Salad Hut. He sounded pretty nice.”

A hush fell over the assembled crowd. Considering the loudmouths present, that was pretty impressive.

I’d win a room clearing contest any day of the week. No sweat.

Carly whirled around, knife in hand. “Seriously? That’s what you announce in front of everyone?”

I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

“Right. Conversation. Jesus.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Ame.”

“So, how about those Yankees?” Tray asked no one in particular.

“They suck.” Kizzy flopped on the couch in her typical dramatic fashion, blond ringlets bobbing. “Sox all the way, baby.”

“What was his name anyway? The Salad Hut guy you’re sleeping with? Or do you like someone else now? Since you’re keeping your options open. Way open,” I added.

“Christ on a cracker, are you trying to make me sound like the whore of Brooklyn or what?”

“It’s whore of Babylon,” Slater said. “It’s actually a Biblical reference to—”

“Oh my fucking God. I hate all of you.” Carly tossed her spatula into the sink. “Make your own damn dinner.” She stomped down the hall into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Wow. Way to make us starve, Mia.” Kizzy shook her head and pulled out her cell. “Who’s up for some Wonder Pizza?”

“What the fuck is Wonder Pizza?” Slater asked, sitting down at the table across from me. He was still clutching Tray’s head. Well, the photo of it.

“It’s something we’re not eating.” Tray glanced at me, his eyebrow lifted. “You going to deal with that or shall I?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” I muttered, feeling more ashamed than if he’d called me a dozen names. “She’s my sister.”

“And you fucked up. So, go fix it.”

So easy. Go fix it. Right. He didn’t know my sister when she had a full head of mad going. Deserved mad in this case.

I glanced at Giovanni, who was still talking quietly to Vey. There was a small chance he hadn’t even been paying attention to the little show I’d just put on.

So much for saving Carly’s virtue, which wasn’t mine to monitor in any case. She was a grown woman. I’d managed to ease off on the Giovanni thing after the insanity at the club the other night, but apparently I’d had just enough time this week to pull back on my old armor.

“Sorry, everyone.” I got to my feet, sliding a glance at Tray. “This is your fault.”

“Oh yeah? How you figure?”

“You got into that dumb spat with Slater last night. Your dickish ways rubbed off.” I jammed an elbow in his side just for fun as I passed.

“Did she just say she rubbed off his dick?” Kizzy asked.

“She probably could with as much as they do it.” Slater made a crude hand gesture and Kizzy howled like a loon.

I ignored them both and went down the hall to knock on the bathroom door. “Let me in, Carly Ann.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Well, then. Not the best sign. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

She pried open the door and stuck her face in the crack. “No, it’s not okay. It’s none of your business. Do you understand that? Who I have sex with is my choice.
Mine
.”

“Fine. Unless it’s Jessie Pavelka.” I crossed my arms. “Then we’re going to have words.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Who?”

“Sports dude. Anyway, come out and make dinner before these jerks order from some sketchy place.”

She breezed past me into the hall. “You just want me for my food.”

“Well, duh.”

Dinner went about as well as could be expected. Carly gave me the cold shoulder and sat as far away from Giovanni as the apartment allowed. I half expected her to take her plate out on the fire escape. Tray and Kizzy ate as if they’d never seen food before, and Mrs. Knox ate quietly while reading a magazine tucked beside her plate. Slater spent the night texting his mystery girl and Giovanni ate one bite of food for every two bites he fed the dog.

After all the plates had been licked clean and Carly had retired—to the bathroom, the only room with a lock that wasn’t occupied—with a supposed headache, the rest of the crew decided to split too. Leaving Tray and his serious face and his sleeping dog behind.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I began.

“Hear what?” he asked pleasantly, sitting so close to me on the couch that the seams of our jeans practically created sparks. “Perhaps you mean you don’t want to hear that the Gio and Carly situation is old news, and you don’t need to do damage control every time they’re anywhere near each other.”