Player(70)

“It’s tomorrow,” she said on a giggle.

“I’ll watch any sappy movies you want, even the period pieces where the guys wear those stupid neckties.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of cravats!” Amelia gasped.

I schooled a smirk. “And I swear to always leave you the last Oreo. Wait—you like Oreos, right?”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes, retrieving a hand to gesture at her hips. “Body by Oreo.”

“Thank God. I’d hate to have to end this thing before we really got started. So, will you? Twerk once for yes and booty pop twice for no. That way, no matter how you answer, I win.”

With another laugh, she turned, and from my spot on my knees, I had a front-row seat to the show. Her back arched, her ass close enough to touch. Her hands dropped to her knees as she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk.

And then she properly blew my fucking mind.

I was momentarily stunned by the shape of her ass popping and shaking and opening and closing and moving in a way that broke some physical law of the universe. Which one, I had no idea, and I couldn’t have cared less. When she rolled her hips and galloped her ass like a fucking pony, I almost had a heart attack.

In fact, in my stupor, I’d sat back on my own far less talented ass, riveted with the intensity of observing the moon landing.

I blinked up at her when she stopped, turning to me with a satisfied smile and her hands on her hips. “How’s that for a yes?”

I stood and swept her into my arms. “Please always say yes, just like that.”

I kissed her before she could say another word.

Amelia’s small hands were over her mouth as she giggled. “I…I can’t believe this.”

“I almost realized it too late.” The twist in my chest at the thought stung.

She chuckled. “Little dramatic, Sam.”

“What?” I asked. “I set you up with the perfect guy. If I hadn’t stopped it, you probably would have ended up marrying him, and where would that have left me?”

She laughed fully at that.

“Luckily, I have long legs. I got there pretty quick once I figured it out.”

Val tugged me toward her room, still laughing. “Come on. Let’s get going, or we’ll be late.”

I waved at dumbstruck Amelia, following Val through the house. When we reached her room, I shut the door and flopped onto her bed, boots hanging off the edge.

“So, Franco is nearly your twin,” I recounted, hooking my arm behind my head. “He’s probably the most likely to be on my side. Max and Alex defer to Dante, who’s the shot caller. Right?”

“Pretty much.” She pulled a weekend bag out of her closet and dropped it next to her dresser.

“So if I can win Dante over, I should be in. Easy enough.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a laugh. “Right.”

“You doubt me?”

“Trust me, I don’t at all doubt that if you set your mind to win over my brother, you’ll do it. But I’m a hundred percent sure it’ll be anything but easy.” She tossed a couple of lacy swaths of fabric into the bag.

“You underestimate me, Valentina.”

“You underestimate him. Dante is the most stubborn ass on the planet.” She moved to her closet and pulled out two dresses. When she turned, she held them up one at a time. “This one? Or this one?”

“The red one. Always the red one.”

“Oh! And look at what I found.” She rummaged around in a basket on her dresser, and when she turned around, two hair combs were in her hand. “Look! I can put them in my victory rolls.” She turned around again, holding them up to her hair. They were gold, dotted with red glass. “They’re just cheap little things, but I saw them and thought of you.”

I smiled at the sight of them in her hair, at the hope in her smile, at the knowledge she’d gotten them with me on her mind.

“I love them. Bring them, too.”

Her smile widened, and she dropped them in her bag.

“You know, my mom has a million of those.”

“Does she?” Val asked as she picked out panties and pajamas, tossing things into the dark mouth of the bag.

“She gets them everywhere she goes, always has. I’ll have to show you sometime.” I switched gears, feeling inexplicably sentimental. “So, your grandma is making paella, right?”

Val laughed, tossing the red dress on the back of her chair. “Always. Tonight is arroz negro. Hope you like squid.”

“Black paella is my favorite,” I said stupidly. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. As I watched her unbutton her blouse, I found my mind devoid of any other thought.

“Don’t worry. Everyone will love you. I mean, with the exception of my brothers, and I know they’ll come around.”

The V of her shirt opened up, the sliver of her breasts becoming a wedge, then her top was gone completely. I stared at the lush curves of her breasts, the dark circles of her areolas, visible beyond the lace. My hands tingled imagining all the things they’d like to do.

“I’m not worried,” I mumbled in a trance.

She didn’t seem to notice, just went about undressing. She unzipped her skirt, slid it over her hips and ass. It hit the ground in a puddle of fabric. Everything she did was sensual, and she had no idea. The curve and point of her feet as she stepped out of the circle of her skirt. The hook of her thumbs as she slid her panties off. Her fingers as she picked up a new pair and stepped into them, giving the briefest flash of the valley between her legs I’d become so well acquainted with last night. The elastic of her waistband snapped when she let it go.