Riders on the Storm

by SexyLexiCullen

Welcome to part 3 of the storm series. Sixteen years after Weather the Storm. Follow the Skip, Bella, and their kids - now older, wiser, and enmeshed in the family business. How will Edward cope with trying to teach Damion and Sonny the ropes, keeping Kylie out of trouble, and Bella happy? Does he still have what it takes to juggle all his duties? Mobward. OOC. AU. Romance/Humor.

19. Shaky and Jack

Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

Hella long, but this is already a part two. Blah. I didn't want to split it. So, here ya go!

Enjoy THIS MONSTER of a CHAPTER!

Starts where the last chap left off :-)

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"Riders on the Storm"

Chapter Nineteen: Shaky and Jack

SONNY POV

Dinner—the small party they were having at La Bella Italia—seemed to be in full swing. The restaurant itself was empty, leaving my family to occupy the main dining room. I was able to see them—actually hear their loud mouths from the cab, although at night this is a quiet street.

Shaking my head, I was robbed—paid the driver, and then left the car.

To my surprise, Damion was standing on the curb, looking down the block while he smoked a cigarette. With his hand in his pocket and wearing the pinstriped suit, he resembled my father so much it was scary. Without glasses, his chin pointed up instead of keeping his head down; he seemed confident as well.

The getup he was wearing was cool, though. He must have gotten in on the gangster bit with my cousin. He had a hat tucked under his arm.

"You look good," I said.

He grinned, nodding slowly. "Figured I'd join 'em—Ant got it for me. We all got dressed here except for Amelia. We walked into the restaurant . . . four gangsters and a ladybug. Sounds like some fucked-up movie title." He was laughing, which was refreshing, but that one night . . . it started the same.

"That was cool of him . . ."

"The shit Amelia got me is still upstairs in AJ's crib—fucking beekeeper. She bitched but got over it quickly—wanted to fuck me after I put this shit on." He jerked his head. "What are you s'posed to be?" he asked, blowing his smoke into the air.

"The Great Santino—obviously." I widened my arms.

"Nice." He pulled from the smoke, pausing and appraising me. "I gotta go see your guy—get myself a few new suits."

"Just go—he'll hook you up."

He nodded, flicking his cigarette into the street. "Well, if I'm gonna be working with Dad, I'll need to look the part." He said that like it was supposed to bother me.

Little did he know he was to work as a low-man. Jeans and sneakers are just fine for that shit—doing Dad's bidding, anyone's bidding really, fetching drinks, making sandwiches, picking up food orders, bringing cars around, collecting, and everything else under the sun—every one of my father's whims.

Dame was to be a mountain-mover, and I knew why our father was doing it. He wanted to put Dame in his place.

It's not the easiest job, especially for him with his last name—he'll likely be the oldest dude, too. A lot of it is hanging out and waiting, doing tasks and then coming back to whichever place Pop sets up shop for the day. It's not like he'll be attending sit-downs or anything. He'll be waved away, bunched with the rest of the kids hoping to make a name. It's like being forty and working as a cashier at McDonalds, meanwhile, your boss is a nineteen-year-old punk.

I knew I was going to have fun with this.

"Right," I said, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling. "You'll do good."

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not exactly interested."

"You should have thought about that before."

"All of it or none of it—I get it."

"As long as you do . . ." I smiled.

He sighed, which was more of a growl. "We should head in." He went for the door. "Look," he stepped closer to me instead, "you gotta help me out."

Apprehensive, I gestured for him to continue.

"Fucking Maggie is in there . . . She keeps staring, and Amelia might scratch her fucking eyes out before dinner's over."

"What do you want me to do about it?" I already knew what was coming.

He shook his head. "I don't know." Maybe I was wrong. He's never been the best with common sense. "Amelia says everywhere we go—she acts like I got chicks propositioning me at every turn. It's just—crazy coincidental. Talk to Maggie, flash her your Colgate smile, your cock—I don't give a fuck. Just help me out."

"Okay."

"I don't understand why she has to be this way. I arrived with her. I'll be leaving with her. I'm her man!" He was very passionate about this shit.

"She loves you," I said.

He stopped to smile. "Craziest shit ever, and she has no idea—how many times a day I ask myself how I got so lucky. I'm not going anywhere—fucking Maggie . . ." He blew out a breath. "Thanks." He patted my shoulder. "But you don't have to—like, it's not serious. Just occupy her time."

There it was.

He wanted me to do this but not really do it. Yet, Mom and them want me to go for it—or something. I was confused; however, I had the basic knowledge of the task at hand.

"No worries. I'll do what I can." I grabbed for the door, but he stopped me.

"Just don't touch her—"

"What?" I asked, like I heard him wrong.

"Don't—" He massaged the back of his neck. "Whatever." He grumbled, stomping into the restaurant.

It seemed—whomever's intentions—were working well, already fucking with his head. They needn't bother, though. His head's a fucked place already.

Everyone was all smiles as I went around the table kissing cheeks. I stopped to shake Eric's hand, briefly wondering what my uncle thought about his presence. Everything seemed chill, though. Eric was younger, likely the same age as Anthony—twenty-one—and he came up to my shoulder, a short stocky guy with sandy brown hair and really dark eyes.

I'd met AJ's new honey a few times already. Melanie was a recent grad of some fancy cooking college, and AJ was thinking about his dick when he hired her—red and black hair, the dyed kind, piercings, tattoos, tall with long legs and a pretty smile. She resembled a pin-up chick.

Lucky for him, she's a fantastic cook. She was also here at the table. Melanie wore the rags she usually does when she's working, and after saying hello, she went into the kitchen—said she'd be back with my usual.

Not one to complain about a pretty chick grabbing my food, I found it convenient that the chair next to Maggie wasn't taken. It was saved for me.

Before I could even look at Maggie, my sister demanded my attention. "Sonny!" Kylie was drunk already or on her way, and she hugged me around the neck. "I've missed you."

I kissed her hair, looking down to what she was wearing. My gaze flashed to Dad's, wondering if he'd lost his mind. "Put on my jacket—" I went to shrug out of it.

Kylie laughed. "Oh, big brother . . . I'm not wearing it—don't fight me." She left my lap, going back to her chair, and she hit me in the face with her wing.

Looking back to my father, the man was engrossed in conversation with Carlisle and Aro with his arm around Mom. I had no idea what she was supposed to be—draped in red. The Kool-Aid pitcher? Her hair looked nice, though—down and curly with a red ribbon.

We had a cast of characters at the table, including Luke Skywalker and a ladybug. She was the only person I didn't greet—didn't want Dame to . . . get the wrong idea. If they really wanted to fuck with him, they should have me do something as benign as wink at Amelia.

Nevertheless, I had her attention for some reason when I looked around—she was staring at me, our eyes met, and I gave her slight head nod, thinking she should be paying attention to her man.

"Hello," I said to Maggie.

"Hi." She kept her eyes on her lap.

"Remember me?" I snapped my fingers for a drink.

"Santino," she whispered.

"What was that?" I cupped my ear, getting closer to her.

"Santino." She turned to me, dressed like Kylie in a skimpy getup. Her outfit was a dark navy blue, and it went well with her fair skin tone. She looked good—almost too good and too grown-up. This wasn't going to be that difficult.

"Don't fuck her—you won't get rid of her," Kylie whispered in my ear, leaving her chair again. She was the life of the party, going over to sit between Anthony and Eric.

"What'd she say?" Maggie asked.

I shook my head. "You had a birthday recently…?"

"Yeah." She nodded, her cheeks flushing.

"Relax." I placed my hand on her forearm, and she developed goose bumps. Rubbing them out, I leaned farther into her to whisper, "I've been briefed . . . you're fine—don't be nervous." When she nodded, I said, "Now giggle and smile." When she did that, I touched my nose to her neck. "You look…you're gorgeous." I breathed into her ear.

She blew out a breath, her shoulders slumping.

"Wish I really had your attention…"

"You do," she whispered. "I'm—I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I touched her lips with my thumb.

She swallowed loudly, and then squirmed in her seat—lightly brushing her thigh to mine.

That was when I leaned back in my chair, welcoming my drink, and giving myself some credit.

I could charm the habit off a nun.

My food wasn't far behind my drink. The Steak Pizzaiola was amazing—it always is—and Maggie and I made small talk while I ate.

She giggled and smiled a lot—was so fucking adorable—and I was halfway through my meal when I realized she wasn't stealing glances at Dame anymore. Whatever I was doing was working, but I wasn't doing much.

With the chastest of touches, I had no idea if our behavior was bothersome to my brother.

When I took my last bite, I realized I didn't give a fuck. Maggie was good company, and she'd look fuckhot on my arm as we walked into the club. Regardless of how young she was, she was curvy and sexy and beautiful. One of the things I'd remembered about Maggie was that she had those big eyes. She still did, but up-close they were gorgeous and framed with these long-ass lashes.

And I couldn't tell if her eyes were hazel or light brown. Every time I gaze into them, she finds her lap, her hands, something else more interesting.

The girl was oozing sexual frustration or repression. Whichever one, she looked like she needed one good fuck, and then she'd be okay.

Could I do that?

Would she let me do that?

Either way, as we were all piling into cars to head uptown, I felt really good—the best I had, not since I got back together with Katie again, but from way before I even got my heart stomped on.

With Maggie tucked under my arm, we shared a limo with Damion and Amelia, Kylie, AJ, Anthony and Eric, and Little Eddie. The rest—the "adults" were riding in another limo.

My brother and his girl laughed at something they were looking at on his phone. That little fucker Eddie sat in the corner, looking out the window, but every few seconds he'd stare down at Amelia's legs. Kylie was still entertaining my cousin and his boyfriend, while AJ wouldn't stop fucking staring at me.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Nothing." Now he wouldn't meet my gaze.

"Too bad Melanie couldn't come," I said.

AJ, who was sitting opposite me, frowned at his phone while his thumbs texted. "We close in a couple hours…she might stop by."

"Cool." I played with a lock of Maggie's hair. "You okay down there?" She had her eyes closed, grinning and inhaling my jacket.

She straightened up. "Yes."

"Awesome." I chuckled, yanking her tighter into my side. "No worries. You're fine." And I wanted to say sniff away, but that'd probably embarrass her.

The glitz and glamor of the night wasn't lost on Kylie or Maggie, first-timers to Midnight Sun. Their eyes were big, and I had one on each arm as we walked in.

"This place is huge . . . and so many freaking people!" Kylie shouted, and she'd already started dancing her way in. I had to grab her before she ran away. Her eyes were bugging out by the crowd alone, and I know her. She probably wanted to go to the dead center of the dance floor and shake her ass; she enjoys being the center of attention.

"V.I.P. is this way…" I steered them clear of the main level, even the lobby, ducking down the side corridor, ushering them up the stairs...while my sister bitched and moaned, but she knew it was "going to be like this".

Mom and Dad were behind us, other family members were in front of us, and we didn't stop until we were all nestled in our private slice of the club.

Once inside, I felt better—having Kylie out of the public eye. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what would be the best way to hurt Dad or me—even if fucking with our actual family is a no-no, not fair game. Fuck killing us. If someone ever got ahold of Kylie or Mom—one of our women . . .

I knew Dad was thinking the same—his eyes going back and forth—to the woman on his arm and the one on mine. And then his shoulders relaxed the same as mine did when we had a seat.

With one look alone, I knew he didn't approve of my date either. Sure, she's young, but the young ones are fun, and some don't look youthful at all—curvy and built like women with the same mindset as most men.

One would think they'd hold sex back until you committed to them, but they actually give it up faster.

With older women or the ones who know better . . . Shit. They practically want your social, or a copy of your credit report. I enjoy the company of older females, too. Most are phenomenal in bed. They've been having sex for however long, and they fucking know what they like. They have no problems instructing a dude like myself, either.

I'm not talking middle-aged, just those who are old enough to know how it's done and young enough to still want it...morning, noon, and night.

Basically, I can get down with broads old or young—all of them—depending on if I like what I see. I do have standards, and I do not just fuck anything with two legs. I just don't discriminate based on age, and I have limits on that shit, too.

But . . .

Young hearts tend to run free. They're not worried about the future or any of that bullshit. It's all about the moment—how they feel in that instant. There's no prerequisites or expectations. Shit. They're passionate as fuck, too. They think with their hearts—feel with their bodies—not so much their minds. They want to get a nut, and are just as inquisitive and open—again—as most guys.

Dad didn't approve and I didn't want to rub his nose in it, as I had no intentions of deserting Maggie. I pulled her to a different table, across the room from my parents. Kylie wasn't forgotten, but she seemed more interested in Anthony and Eric than her own friend, and our little cousin followed her lead. The group sat on the opposite side of the room, and my sister kept hooting, hollering, and dancing around—like a fairy in some fantasy world garden or something. I don't know—with the wings flapping and her smiling so wide . . . I was happy; she was safe and having a good time already.

"You'd think she never sees people or something," I said to Maggie. "Like we keep her locked up."

"She's a people person—very likeable, agreeable, and she's not shy."

I nodded. "Very true—"

"She said she wants to focus on Public Relations—maybe work with celebrities." Maggie spoke of Kylie, and it sounded like very high regard. At the restaurant, she told me all about how my sister was supposed to turn her into a "lady", turn her into this man-eater. Kylie had done a good job.

"And you?" I was waiting for her to bring up the nunnery, so I could say she didn't look like a nun. It was to be a corny joke, but Maggie would like it.

Her eyes widened. "I have absolutely no idea." And then I realized my date was still in high school.

Eighteen—legal or not, young or not, down to fuck or not—how fucking pathetic was I?

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know." I was honest.

She crossed her legs, turning into me, her knee touching my thigh. "Um…I might go into nursing."

"That's cool. You like helping people, no doubt?"

She smiled. "I do." She flipped her hair, and this was a different side of Maggie. She seemed more relaxed, more open, confident…

She probably wanted my attention since I'd backed off, and I liked that.

Turning, curiosity piquing my interest, I saw what she was looking at. Dame and Amelia had yet to settle on a place to sit, gazing down to the club and standing at the bar. I caught my brother look our way, not once, but twice.

"Still…?" She knew what I was asking.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know."

"Why are you doing this?" I pushed her hair behind her ear.

"It was Kylie's idea."

"You do everything my sister suggests?" Raising a brow, I scooted even closer to her.

Her eyes widened. "God, no. I could never do everything your sister suggests," she laughed.

"Be straight with me. What's the deal with Dame—you're truly interested in him or what?"

"I find him attractive...have had a crush on him for ages...I don't know." Her face fell.

"And how do you feel now? After chillin' with me all night?" My hand snuck under her hair to gently run my finger up and down the nape of her neck.

She sighed, moving around, tilting her head; I was making her squirm in her seat even more. I loved it.

"Hmm?" I wondered if she'd answer my questions.

"Well, right now I'm confused…" She looked up to the ceiling. "I mean, he was really nice that night, but he's not the same. We were drunk when we hung out...but he hasn't been terribly nice to me since. He won't talk to me either—acts like I don't exist. I think—I think I liked him more when I thought he liked me. Now I realize that he never liked me. I built him up as something major in my head—made that night seem like a lot more than it truly was, a chance encounter?" She rambled and it was cute.

"And then you…you're just—you're you—Santino." She pointed to me, and yet her eyes were somewhere on my chest. "You, you take my breath away, and when I look at you, really look," she met my gaze head-on, "I can barely think straight." She was fast to turn away. "Crap."

"Whoa..." I didn't know how to respond to that, but it made me smile.

"I talk too much anyway."

"No," I disagreed. "You're honest, and that's refreshing."

"See? I mean...you're being all…and I'm all…" She collapsed back with a sigh, as though she was exhausted.

I laughed, nearly hovering over her. "You're adorable . . . but you need to relax. Can you do that?"

"Can you tell me what you're thinking?" Whether she knew it or not, she was good—looking at me the way she was through her lashes, playing with my tie, her tits nearly spilling over her top because of the way she was half leaning away.

"I'm thinking…I'm lucky to be here with you tonight."

She licked her bottom lip, almost panting.

It was definitely a mixture of both—repression and frustration—and I wondered if she'd ever had an orgasm before, self-inflicted or otherwise. I wasn't stupid. Nuns don't have to be virgins. They just have to take a vow of chastity. I wasn't worried about ruining her for Jesus or anything, and she didn't know what her future held anyway.

For all I know, she could be all Sunday School-like; meanwhile, she's this freak on the low. With Catholic girls, you never know, but I do know because I went to Catholic school all my life . . .

Virginal, innocent, my fat cock.

"And . . . I'm wishing you weren't hung up on my brother." I frowned, getting closer to her—her eyes were calling me, all bright and shiny and lust-filled. "But I know this is just a game. Right?"

"Um…I like you both."

I grinned. "You can't have us both."

"I don't know if I can have anyone." She held her chest, exhaling.

"Good answer." I sat back, placing my hand on her thigh. "I'm down to play. You tell me when it's too much. Deal?"

"Well, yeah…you can touch me and stuff—"

"Don't say that," I laughed. "Don't tell me that…because I will."

"What if I want you to?"

There it was . . .

I had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. While I'm as nice as they come, I would fuck her—but I'd never be her boyfriend. It wouldn't look right.

"Wow…my heart is just like…wow." She placed her hand on her chest again.

I kissed her cheek. "You'll be fine. Calm down and enjoy the music…when a waitress comes by…I'll get you a drink."

"I like apple martinis."

"Those are pretty heavy." I pulled her into my side again. "They're sweet—you wouldn't think them strong, but they are...they're kind of like you."

"They go down smooth," she whispered.

"Bet you go down smooth, too." I quickly kissed her cheek again, thinking I could go for one myself—a drink with a side of Maggie.

Then, lo and behold, while I turned to find a server, Damion—Dad's new minion—was coming over with a small drink tray.

And it was filled with Appletinis.

"Mind if we join you guys?" Amelia asked.

"By all means." I gestured to the table, the night getting better and better.

After sliding into the booth-like seat, Dame doled out the drinks, and then we were all quiet while we got comfortable— Maggie and me readjusting ourselves for company, which was odd. We were more into it while no one was watching.

"What should we toast to?" Amelia asked.

"The moon," Damion said, lifting his glass.

"The moon?" Amelia scrunched her nose.

He shrugged, and then kissed her shoulder only to grin—resembling a little boy.

It made Amelia giggle, and she'd never know what it was about.

That day—that epic Saturday—many things happened. Maggie gave me a note to give to my brother, Katie came by, I found out I was going to be a father, and then—sometime between Katie and I fighting and Aro showing up—I handed the note off to Dad. He smiled and read it aloud, and we were alone.

In Maggie's letter, she spoke about how magical the moon was—how it was responsible for lovers and the like, and how mystical it was, the powers it has. Yet, Dame swore he'd never read it. The rest of it . . . it was about how he made her feel—liberated and like a lady, sexy—her heart aflutter . . . some poetic bullshit. I'd listened to my father in a daze, digging her words, thinking them deep and passionate, as he rattled them off. But what she said was pretty; like her, it was very honest and heartfelt.

If only all women were that up front about things…

Ever so curious, I wondered if I could make her feel that way. It's ironic. I'm sitting here with Maggie, but her mind was probably someplace else—on my brother. And I didn't know Maggie from anywhere, didn't love her or think I ever could.

I just wanted her . . .

She'd be like a palate cleanser. She made me feel good, happy—like Layla does, and then thinking of her confused me even more.

I never think this much unless it's Katie-oriented, and I was trying my best not to let my mind dwell on her.

She doesn't want me.

Tonight I wanted Maggie, and tomorrow I'd likely want Layla; meanwhile, I probably wouldn't have either.

My behavior might make me a dog.

Maggie's age might make her young.

Layla's new position sort of makes her off-limits. I can't be fucking my managers, because when we stop fucking, they quit.

There's always the possibility of more where anything is concerned these days. I'd opened myself up to the concept of dating, only the idea…when I never had before. I was still unsure about it. In two months, whether I'm ready or not, I'm going to be responsible for another human being. I was going to be a father, so nothing—nothing could be set in stone yet.

But tonight was tonight, and I hadn't gotten laid in a minute, practically a whole-fucking-month. Katie and I only shared two good nights amongst a bunch of nightmares. It was the longest I'd ever gone without pussy, and it was starting to fuck with my mind: the way Layla's ass looked in those pants, the way my dick responds when Maggie touches my fucking arm, like I'm fifteen, and the mere thought of tits makes me come in my pants.

Maybe Maggie would give up this crusade, and I could head down to the main floor—pick up a sweetie and hit up a hotel, let go for the time being.

"To the moon." I sipped my drink, staring down to her.

Maggie wore a frown, following my lead, and I didn't know what that was about.

It bothered me. "Hey." I touched her cheek. "You're too pretty not to be smiling."

She grinned. "Thank you."

"You're name's Maggie, right?" Amelia asked her. "I'm Amelia." She put her hand out.

"Nice to meet you." Maggie reached out to shake her hand.

I was going for nonchalance, the sweetness of the Appletini bothering one of my molars. While I peeped Dame peeking Maggie, I took out my phone to make a note—a reminder to make a dental appointment.

"Everything okay?" Maggie had wide eyes, staring at my cell. "You don't have to leave, do you?"

"No…I just—" I put my phone away. "That was rude of me."

She surprised me by nestling into my side. "So, how long have you guys been together? You make a gorgeous couple." Maggie surprised the fuck out of me again, and Damion almost choked on his drink.

Amelia looked to Dame. "What are we calculating by?"

He didn't reply, focusing on her hair, playing with the strands.

"About a month," she answered Maggie.

"A month—wow," she giggled, and Dame glared at her.

When he slowly focuses, that calculating stare...

I didn't want to know what he was thinking, and I tightened my hold on Maggie—as if his thoughts could harm her.

I'd fucking lay him out, son him again—in front of his girl, and everyone at this club—if he stepped out of line.

He'd met the both of them within the span of one day. And all Maggie and Damion ever did was chill for a couple hours, but Maggie's tone was insinuating something.

I grinned, liking my little pet even more.

"It feels more like a year." Amelia's tone was teasing as she shook Dame's thigh. "Right?"

"Best month of my life." Damion pulled her into his side, and then claimed her mouth.

"Huh." No one heard Maggie but me, and she was fast to look away. "Where's Kylie…?" She stared above my head—her tits in my face.

"She's up here, somewhere." I placed my hand on her hip, my eyes zeroing in on her cleavage, but then she plopped back.

"Yeah…she's dancing over there." She waved her arm. "She saw me."

"You need her for something?" I asked, and I knew I should step up my game—do something to avenge that kiss, but I didn't want it to be obvious.

I laughed at myself—at how into this I truly was.

"What's so funny?" Maggie's hand came to rest on my thigh.

"I was thinking about something." I pushed her hair off her shoulder. "Nothing important."

"Party people!" Kylie announced, drink in hand, and then she eased her little ass between Damion and Amelia, separating them. "Hello, my loves!" She put her arms around them both—Cockblocker Number One on the prowl.

"You having a good time?" I asked her.

"I am. This place is so cool, right?" She looked to Maggie.

She nodded.

"Oh…look at them," Kylie shouted in Amelia's ear, pointing to us. "They so want each other—their body language, how they're inclined..."

Amelia was giggling. "Santino, you never struck me as the cradle-robbing type." There was some venom in her tone.

"Eh…it's an old hobby." I kissed Maggie's temple.

Amelia had wide eyes as she faced Kylie—not expecting that answer.

Fuck it, I thought.

"I'm supposed to turn down the attention of the hottest chick in this club?" I asked.

Amelia mocked looking wounded.

"I love you, Sonny! I love you!" Kylie sang, rising from her seat. "But I love this song more . . . I'm kidding." She landed a wet one on my forehead, moving on and going back over to Anthony and Eric. They weren't dancing or anything, but they both came to life when my sister was near. I was glad—Anthony needed a buffer for tonight. He introduced Eric as his friend and nothing else. My uncle was more than polite to Eric, too, speaking to him, trying to get to know him. Yet, Anthony was still nervous as fuck.

But then I saw Mom, making her way over, and my eyes—my fucking eyes. What's been seen can't be unseen, and that's when I knew my father was out of his mind. She was practically naked, dressed in red lingerie and a teeny miniskirt, and I guessed she was supposed to be some kinky Little Red Riding Hood.

I took off my jacket.

"Don't bother," Maggie laughed, helping me right it. "She'll fight you."

"How'd you know—" I started, wondering how she picked up my thoughts.

"Hi, guys!" Mom had a drink in her hand, too. "Your father's busy…"

"He is?" I asked.

"Caius just came up."

I looked back. Sure enough, Caius and Nunzio sat near Dad, Jasper, and Carlisle. I thought tonight the V.I.P. room was to be exclusive.

"Alice never came." Mom grumbled. "I was looking forward to seeing her. You guys need more drinks?" She glanced around, and then turned to snap her fingers—indicating we needed another round.

"Feelin' social?" I asked.

"I look hot . . . I got it. I'm going to flaunt it."

"Well, shit." I toasted my half-empty glass to her before I finished it. "Good for you, Ma."

She grinned, pinching my chin. "You look happy."

"That's because I am," I answered.

Mom palmed my cheek but glanced to my date. "Are you having a good time?" she asked Maggie.

"Yes…a lot of fun. Thanks for letting me come along." She sounded so sincere.

"You're welcome any time . . ." Mom chose to sit on the table, turning her back to Dame and Amelia. "My boy just got his heart broken—"

"Ma—" I didn't expect her to say some shit like that.

"Promise me you won't break it again?" She grasped Maggie's hand.

I shook my head, thinking her ridiculous.

It'd be the other way around.

"It's safe with me," Maggie assured her.

Mom sighed, looking around. "I'm gonna go dance with your aunt—we'll make a Kylie sandwich." She was watching my sister, laughing. "She brings a whole new meaning to 'dance like no one's watching'." She stood up, only to lean into me. "Seriously…go for it. She's eighteen," she whispered.

"Mom…" I grasped her hand, kissed her palm. "Don't worry about me, or…what I do. I'm fine, and—"

"Regardless of the situation—a woman who makes you smile like that...?" She widened her eyes, and I didn't think she was drunk either. "I'm going to dance." Then she left us, and I was glad she kept all of her words hushed.

"Did you want to go dance with them?" I asked Maggie.

"I don't dance."

"Neither do I." I scrunched my nose.

"What was up with Mom?" Dame jerked his chin. "She scolding you…to place nice?" He raised a brow, looking from Maggie to me. "Telling you to keep your hands off the goods?" It sounded like his own personal message to me.

I sighed, shaking my head and looking to Maggie. "Actually, no."

"What?" He acted like he couldn't hear me.

I shrugged, willing to let the subject die down. "Did you wanna take a walk?"

Maggie nodded. "Sure."

I stood up, extending my hand.

"Where you going?" Dame asked. "There's too many people. You should just stay up here . . . But where are you going?" He leaned forward, about to leave his seat.

Internally, I was full of glee. Kylie's plan to make him jealous was working; however, I was done with this charade, wanting to have a good time. Sitting here with Damion and Amelia was beat, especially in this moment when I wanted all of Maggie's attention. "Why you so nosy?"

"Yeah…why do you care?" Amelia asked him, and Dame sat back.

Either way, I pulled Maggie into my side again, and we left the room. She didn't say anything, wrapping her arms around my waist as we walked. No one commented about our departure.

Knowing the ins and outs of this club, I let myself in to Jasper's office.

"What's this place?" Maggie looked around.

"Office." I thought it was obvious with the desk and all. "There's a bathroom in here if you need it…"

"I'm okay." She backed up to the door.

"Hey…I just wanted to show you something," I said, afraid she was scared of being alone with me.

"Oh…"

"Come here." I pointed to where I was standing, and she came willingly. "I'd never do something you didn't like, didn't want me to—I'd never step out of line or hurt you. This is your show—remember that."

Her cheeks were beet red, as she grasped both my hands. "Thank you . . . you're so nice. Is this the real you?"

I smiled, glancing at my watch. "No. I turn back into a pumpkin at midnight." It was ten to.

Maggie giggled. "I'm serious…or do you change like—"

"I'm me—the way I am now—is the way I am." I shrugged. "Take me or leave me . . . Sometimes I get moody." I winked.

She blew out a breath, bringing our hands up to entangle our fingers. "What did you want to show me?"

I brought her hand up to kiss her wrist—letting my lips linger, watching her blush extend to her neck and ears, her chest heaving. I couldn't believe I could have this much of an effect on a woman.

It drove me wild inside, and I hadn't even gotten to the good stuff . . . yet.

Would we ever get to the good stuff?

I had no idea.

"Come on." I turned, going to the filing cabinet to grab a blanket. "I thought—I thought you might be missing a friend."

"A friend?" She was still breathing heavily, seeming confused.

"Trust me," I said.

From there, we went down another corridor, and up another staircase, and then a ladder. We went up to the roof. It was only a few stories high—maybe six, though there's only three floors. The place is just huge—used to be an old warehouse.

"Wow . . . look at it." Maggie jumped up and down, pointing. "It's so big. Like you could pull it in." She yanked the air, giggling.

"You're adorable." I fanned out the blanket. "Sit with me." This time I took off my jacket for Maggie, knowing she might be a bit cold.

"I'm burning up."

Funny thing, so was I.

I folded my jacket, discarding it, and crossing my ankles.

"Why do you carry that?" she whispered, looking down.

I did, too, to see my Glock. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" I'd hide it someplace up here if it did.

"No…just curious. You wouldn't shoot me."

"Of course, not . . . then I might never get to kiss you." I touched her cheek.

She, like, cradled my hand to her face, which was very sweet. "You want to kiss me?"

I nodded.

Maggie grinned, her eyes darting everywhere but to me.

"Hey." I touched her cheek. "If you're not—"

"I was thinking." She came back to me. "You can…kiss me."

"Thank you." And then she waited, but I wasn't ready yet. "I will . . . when you least expect it." I waved a finger.

It made her laugh, and then her eyes fell to my piece. "Are you, um, are you a police officer? Kylie never mentioned what you did."

My brows rose. "I'm . . . an officer of the court."

"A lawyer?" she asked, and I didn't think she'd pick up on that.

"Soon, I will be. I'm studying for the bar."

"Wow. That must be intense."

"Baby," I laughed, just thinking she was the cutest, sexiest… "My life can be intense—the things I get into, but not really. I'm pretty average."

"You're anything but. You're special. I can tell already." She scooted closer. "It's full." She gazed up. "Crazy things are said to happen on Halloween and when the moon is full."

"I bet." I moved closer, too, tossing my nine to my side to hold her.

She leaned back, resting against my chest. "It's beautiful—"

"Not as beautiful as you." Her hair smelled like vanilla, her skin sweet.

"We're not around them anymore. You don't have to lie, pretend to—"

"I'm not," I whispered. "You might think it mystical and powerful, but to me . . . that thing is just a big blob in the sky. You're prettier."

"Mystical and powerful?" she asked. "Did you, um—"

"Yes, I read your letter." My nose skimmed her ear. "Please don't get upset. I liked it a lot." I crawled my fingers along her thigh. "Seriously, the moon's got craters, and like a bunch of gray dust or whatever. It's got nothin' on you, and you're officially a hottie." My fingers brushed her sides. "Kylie did good, but she didn't do much."

She squirmed, giggling. "That tickles."

I stopped, behaving myself, just content to hold her tight, and we became quiet. We heard the traffic in the street, car horns, and voices trailing up. The floor below us vibrated from the force of the music inside.

And it was great.

But just having her in my arms . . . I kept hugging her tighter and tighter as my dick became harder and harder, and all I was doing was studying her cheek, her eyes that stared at the sky, the smell of her hair and skin invading my senses. This was sensual in a way that was very innocent.

She had this appeal about her—

"Maybe we should go back down?" I suggested. The night had carried on a bit. Maybe Dame and Amelia had left, but it was still early . . . Maggie could chill with Kylie, and I could . . . do what I set out earlier. Only now, I'd be finding a chick and imagining it was Maggie.

She sat up, turning around to face me. "Why?"

I shrugged, watching her hair blow in the breeze. "I think we achieved our goal with Dame...you could have fun with my sister."

"Oh." She nodded slowly, hugging herself. "Does, um, my age bother you?"

"Does my age bother you?" I nudged her with my leg. "I'm twenty-seven."

She smiled. "I can't imagine…what a guy like you is doing with a girl like me. Like…how I snagged your attention—if I really did." She held her chest. "You seem interesting and like…you could have anyone here." She frowned, looking down. "I talk too much."

"No." I lifted her chin with my finger. "But you do have my attention . . . and you probably always will now. I've noticed you. You know? No more flying under the radar for you. Like I said, you're officially a hottie." She'd mentioned something earlier about Kylie helping her with that, too. She didn't mean to tell me, but it sort of came out. "You still thinking about my brother?"

She gulped a half-gulp, like her mouth was too dry. "Not since—not since we were downstairs, and that's only because he was across from me. Now you have my attention."

I nodded, liking that—digging her honest answer.

Out of nowhere, her face fell, and she shivered.

I draped my jacket over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"I'm happy to be here with you, and—"

"Tell me." I rubbed up her biceps, trying to warm her.

"I liked Damion for a while, and now I can't understand why—why—I don't anymore."

"Rebound," I said. "I'm going to guess you like me—"

"You're cool." She nodded.

"Yeah, and I'm on your mind, and then with the next guy—you'll forget about me." I stared into her eyes again. This close I could see that they were a mixture of blue and green.

"That's the thing…right now, in this moment, I don't know if I could ever forget you. But Kylie said—" Her eyes widened. "I can't tell you that."

"Yeah, you can." I poked her side. "What'd she say? I promise I won't get upset."

"She—she said, you're the type of guy girls use." She looked incredibly sad. "Like, for certain things…you don't commit, which makes you good for…I don't know, but I do know. She said you could never be my boyfriend, which is—it's disappointing, but expected, and that makes it okay?"

I had no idea how to reply to that shit. That didn't make it untrue, because it was, and I wasn't upset.

"You're mad."

"No," I said, leaning into her. "She's right . . . Can you be honest about something else?"

She nodded, that little pink tongue making a quick swoop on her bottom lip.

"What do you want?" I asked. "What could I do for you? Give me a clue, because…I'm a little confused here. You're—you feel—" I, Santino Cullen, was tongue-tied. "You're giving me mixed signals, and I don't want to hurt you—do something to scare you."

"I, um, I—my heart beats so fast when you look at me like that."

I chuckled.

"And when you touch me—" That had my attention. "I just—my stomach. Um. I think I know I really like you, not like I liked Damion. Um. It feels different when you..." She swallowed, making an "ung" noise. She was nervous. "I want—I want you to kiss me—here—under the full moon. It'd be special in a way . . . a way I could only dream of." It was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.

"All right," I whispered. "Like I said, this is your show, so—it's your call…" I trailed off, leaning forward to gently place my lips to hers. They were soft and dry, and I didn't deepen it, and she made no move to back away. Her eyes were closed.

Taking a chance on fate, I closed my eyes, too—palming her cheek, pulling away to lick my lips and come back, giving her a few short kisses in succession. My stomach was filled with excitement—just because I was giving this to her, fulfilling a simple, silly wish.

When I backed off, still unsure, she kept her lips pursed—had my shirt fisted, and I'd just noticed that shit. "Wow." She cleared her throat.

I sighed, huffing out a breath. "Yeah."

"Your face is red." She touched my cheek.

"So is yours…" Maybe I was embarrassed, maybe I felt a little sad, recalling a kiss just like this one—one that happened almost fifteen years ago.

And in this moment, sitting here with Maggie . . .

I almost felt like weeping—incredibly disappointed with life in general, because I was very happy for that brief amount of time while we were kissing. But I also felt awakened in some way . . . I wasn't sure.

"Was it bad?"

"No." I quickly snatched up her hand. "That was—" It woke something up inside me. It was sensual, it was sexy and chaste, and it drove me wild. "That was great."

She sat up, getting on her knees and coming toward me. I thought she was going to kiss me again, but she wiped under my eye.

"It's the wind." I felt like such a pussy. What the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn't even remember the last time I cried, or teared up. It just happened.

She smiled brightly, and then wrapped her arms around me.

A grin broke out on my own face, and I hugged her back, adjusting her so she sat in my lap. "You're an amazing girl, Maggie."

"You're amazing." She placed her hand on my hair, weaving her fingers into it, massaging my scalp. "It's soft."

I hummed, nuzzling my nose to her cheek. "Can I really kiss you now?" I wanted those lips again.

"Okay…" She leaned in first.

This kiss was nothing like the last one—where that one was like ice, this one was fire. She wasn't shy—opening her mouth, letting me explore hers while she pulled on my hair.

Maggie was overzealous, which overwhelmed me.

When she moaned into my mouth, things went a little crazy—in the best way. It was still her show, and she must have been overcome by something. She was just doing, kissing my neck, biting my earlobe, going back to my mouth, and all I could do was pant up to the moon—thanking that fucking gray blob for being so fascinating.

"Stop." I placed my hands on her shoulders to control myself, stop myself from—

"Am I doing it wrong?" She pushed her tits into my chest.

I laughed. "No, no . . ." I tried to even out my breathing.

Maybe as a teenager . . . maybe I had more patience for this, although back then it seemed like I didn't have any. Maybe it was because—back then—I didn't know what came next, how it would feel.

"We're, um—" I spoke, while she started kissing me again. "I just—" She bit my lip, sucking it back into her mouth, only to moan again. Then she went to my neck. "Christ...You're very good at this." I acquiesced, running my hands up her back.

"I Google and write about kisses like this . . . the butterflies, the fireworks. I didn't think it was real—possible." She nipped me just under my ear.

"Whoa…" I tilted my head, that shit felt too fucking good, and she was correct about the butterflies. Fuck me. I couldn't even remember the last time those fuckers invaded my stomach.

"It's—it's supposed to be instinctual—just do, don't think." She patted my cock, like testing the waters. "Was that okay?"

"D-do whatever you want." I cleared my throat, tilted my head, giving her all access to my neck—her mouth felt so good there. "Go with your instincts." I was willing to be her test subject, while I also tried to think about anything—except sex, or else she'd get, not only kissed, but fucked under the full moon.

"You can touch me. I mean, you can do something." She let her weight drop, wrapping her legs around me, and I thought that was a very bold move on her part.

"Where?" I tried to focus, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You—you tell me."

"Why are you nervous?" She pulled back and stared at me. "You're making me nervous. If I'm doing something-something wrong..."

"No, baby . . ." My hands held her cheeks. "Everything you're doing is great. I'm enjoying myself—too much." I had to replay my words to see if they made sense. "You're a great kisser."

"Good!" She crashed her mouth to mine, our teeth knocking together as she almost knocked me the fuck over. She stuck her tongue down my throat, and I sucked hers back—wanting it, needing it—and then she kissed along my neck again.

"Fuck," I breathed, her kisses making me insane, and I was seconds away from throwing her down and . . . "Baby... stop."

"Why?"

"Uh," I shook the mental cobwebs away, "when I usually—" she scraped her teeth along my jaw, "do stuff like this, I don't think—like you said. I just do, and I can't do that with you."

"Why not?" the temptress asked, rubbing her hands up my chest, going for my tie. It was loose already and she pulled it off, staring into my eyes as she started to undo my buttons. ". . . tonight is special." I think she told herself. "We should take advantage of it . . . I'm wet." Now that shit was aimed at me, her bottom grinding into my cock. "You're so hard. I didn't know they got that hard—feels like real wood," she giggled. "Big, too." Her gaze flashed to mine.

A growl vibrated through my chest, and I quickly brought her down to my side, hovering over her fast—thinking I'd get her off, and then go jerk off in the bathroom. If that wasn't a flashback to my teen years, I don't know what would be.

"You're a man—a real man . . . my God—Good Lord in heaven." She moaned, her hips coming up to meet mine. "Your arms and shoulders are strong." She rubbed up my biceps. "Your chest—"

"What do you want?" I asked, running my finger over the tops of her breasts.

She squirmed, something close to a whine coming from her mouth. "I'm on fire." She tore my suit jacket away, and her skin—her arms, her chest . . .

"I know, baby," I whispered, staring down at her. Christ. She was beautiful, just like that—head tossed and turning, mouth partially open, her body . . . "Tell me how to put it out."

"I just—I need—Um." She pulled me down to her, placing her mouth to mine. I groaned, pushing my cock onto her, running my hands up her legs, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, sneaking my hands under the fabric to palm her ass.

"Oh my God," she said into my mouth.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry. Don't be sorry," she chanted, shaking her head.

"Okay." I couldn't help it; a laugh escaped me.

She blew out a large breath, calming herself and sitting up.

I was disappointed, thinking we were done, although this was torture . . .

I withdrew my hands.

"Can you, um…" She lifted her hair, half-turning her back to me. "Get the zipper."

I was still between her legs, leaving one hand on her hip, as my other reached. Loving the slow burn as her back was exposed to me, I kissed the small birthmark on her shoulder blade; her skin paler in the moon glow. My nose skimmed, enjoying the smoothness of her skin.

She just had beautiful-fucking-skin.

Maggie shivered, turning back to me, but now she was nervous—I could see it in her eyes. "Um, no one ever—" She hugged the top to her chest, looking down. "I've never, um," she held the fabric even tighter against her breasts, "No one's ever seen me."

I searched her eyes, willing her to trust me, willing her to show me. And I waited for her, at a loss for words and eager as fuck.

When she started shaking, that fire turning to embers, I placed my lips to hers—giving her corset a gentle tug with my thumb and forefinger, barely pulling it.

She let go of it to wrap her arms around my neck, her body not as rigid, relaxing within my embrace—trusting me.

I kissed every inch of exposed skin, going over and over her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts without looking—and I avoided her mouth until she melted back, closing her eyes.

She was there—at that crazy place. I knew, because I'd been there for a while, and I wanted this so badly . . .

"Maggie…"

"Yeah?"

I didn't answer her, scooting lower to finally see her tits.

For a man who fucking sees them all day long, I was over-the-fucking-moon to get to these bad boys. "You're gorgeous." They weren't big at all—crazy shit I'm used to—maybe a C cup, her nipples—these teeny pink things. When I took one between my teeth, licking between them, Maggie fucking…She screamed, her body jolting and holding my head to her chest.

I smiled, suckling and tweaking the other with my fingers.

She kept moving her hips. "Oh my God, Santino—oh my God." She clawed at my back, and I hoped she'd draw blood.

I loved it.

Moaning against her skin, my lips trailed down to her stomach, but then I looked up to her—pausing, waiting for her to open her eyes. They were half-hooded, lazy, and yet so full—they said a lot, and I didn't think I needed to ask . . .

"Can I take this off?" I was talking about her bottom piece—whatever that short skirt thing was.

She nodded, placing her hand to her heart.

"You okay?" The wicked grin on my lips couldn't be masked.

I was like a pig in shit right now.

"Don't say no," she whispered.

"What?" The image in front of me was gorgeous; I wanted to take a picture.

She wet her lips. "Don't say no."

"Okay." My eyes trailed down, knowing I'd do anything she asked me.

"M-make love to me."

. . . except that.

"Um…"

She was coming back down from that cloud, looking around. When I realized what she needed, I grabbed my suit jacket and helped her put it on. "Tonight's special . . . and—but I understand if you don't—don't want me."

"I want you." It was possible I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted any woman. "But are you sure? I—I—just—This would be your first time?" I guessed.

"Yes…" Her eyes filled with tears.

"No, no, no, no—" I fussed over her, holding her cheeks, and softly kissing her lips. "Don't, please, don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry either." I smiled. "My first time? It was—it was really special. There was a bed, and—I actually sprinkled rose petals, and we were so in love, but scared . . ."

She smiled. "That sounds nice."

"Exactly." I pushed her hair back, out of her face. "I want you—you have no idea how badly, I do. Maggie, I'm not lying when I say you're beautiful, and I—"

I couldn't believe I was being undone by Girl Scout, Virgin Mary. But who the fuck was she going to tell? I had no reason to lie or hold back—not with this stuff. And the way I felt in this moment . . . how happy I was . . .

"I could make love to you." I wasn't sure if she knew what I meant. "I wouldn't want to fuck you and bounce—you deserve better than that. You—my life is so fucked right now."

"You're having a baby with your ex."

I nodded. "Kylie told you." Looking around, I grabbed her corset. "Lemme help you put this on—"

"No." She stopped my hands, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I wrote about this—a rooftop in the fall." She kissed my cheek. "This would be—it'd be—it'd be amazing."

"Um, don't you want to save it for—"

"You are special." Her lip quivered. "You're kind, sweet, nice . . . you're handsome, and when you touch me—I think I'm going crazy."

"It hurts," I whispered, turning to capture her lips.

She groaned a whine, pulling away. "Kiss my neck...please."

I grinned while I complied, licking, nipping, and kissing, and I wanted to leave a mark.

But I couldn't.

"No, no matter who or where, it's going to hurt," she said through rapid pants. "Santino, please—touch me." Her hips came up to meet mine, and I let my weight drop, taking her into my arms, coming up to push against her hard—loving the way her eyes widened.

"You like that?" I did it again, creating friction, and we were playing with fire again.

"Hmm, yeah." She pushed back against me, widening her legs.

And I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by.

She frowned when I sat back on my legs, but smiled when I rubbed my hands along her thighs.

"You trust me?" I asked.

"Yeah." She leaned up on her elbows.

After unhooking her garters, making quick work of them, I pulled her bottoms away from her hips—her legs came together as I pulled them down and over her heels, and then I loved the sight of her feet touching the ground, her legs spreading.

Maggie's chest heaved, her breasts going up and down under the jacket while she stared at her body, and then up to me.

She trusted me enough—that much was apparent—to surrender, to be as helpless as she is and give me all this control.

It was a gift I didn't intend on squandering. "You're beautiful." She was natural—not bare, nor was there a landing strip—just a tiny bushel of curls.

She grinned, goose bumps sprouting and spreading. "I'm getting c-cold."

"Don't worry." I brought her leg up to kiss her ankle. "I got you." Slowly, my lips went up her leg until it bent at the knee, and she threw herself back down.

Biting the inside of her thigh made her squeak, and going higher—nuzzling my nose—made her relax, her hand coming to rest on my head.

That move—her fingers weaving into my hair—spurred me on, and I placed a chaste kiss on her mound. "You trust me?"

"Uhuh," she breathed.

Licking my lips, I got comfortable—my dick hurting from lying on the ground—and resting on my elbows, bringing my finger up to softly run it along her slit.

"Holy—"

Looking up to her, she was biting her fist.

"Don't . . . I wanna hear you." I made her stop that.

She made a noise, agreeing, nodding, and staring down at me.

Maggie might have been cold, yet there was nothing but heat coming from her pussy. Spreading her lips, my finger rolled along her clit and trailed down. She was soaked, her heady, delicious scent hitting my nose. "Have you ever, uh, had—"

"No," she said. "No, oh my God—don't stop."

I nodded, twirling my finger and increasing pressure. "You need to breathe, even if you think you can't—you need to scream, breathe, and relax." I smiled, kissing her thigh.

"Okay. Okay. Okay."

My finger went lower, my lips got closer to hers. What I didn't expect was her to jump when I placed an open-mouthed kiss on her clit—softly sucking for the briefest of seconds.

"Stop!" she shouted. "It just—it just—"

"Breathe." I inhaled deeply and let it out to show her.

"It felt too good. I couldn't take it."

"Baby, just breathe."

She mimicked my motions, making me grin.

"Can I…?"

She nodded, melting back down, and there was sweat dewing on her forehead.

Moaning into her made her body shake, and I dug that. I enjoyed this immensely, licking every inch of her pussy, not even focusing on technique—just needing to—my finger circling her hole. When she bucked her hips, my fingertip entered her.

She was a virgin, snug as shit, and I was afraid—terrified that I might not fit.

"Keep—keep—keep doing that." She pulled my hair, clamping her thighs onto my head as I focused on her clit, my finger knuckle-deep, massaging, probing, hoping to open her up. "More…" I didn't know what she meant, but I introduced her to my middle finger—going around and around, in and out.

"Hmmm." I groaned, and I couldn't get enough of her pussy. It was perfect; she was delicious.

"Yes…yes…oh my God…yessss!" Her voice was shaky and loud, her thighs threatening to suffocate me, as she rolled over to her side. I wouldn't let her get away from me, following her. "Oh!" She came around my fingers, her fucking hand fisting my hair—rubbing her pussy into my mouth where I just flattened my tongue.

"Whoa…" She blew out a breath, her body still shaking wildly, and I withdrew my fingers to suck them back into my mouth. "I think—I think—yeah. My God . . . that was—"

I couldn't find words to say either—my mind blank, staring down at the crazy beautiful mess below me. Her hair was wrecked, she looked spent . . . "You okay?" I found something to say.

She was wobbly as she tried to sit up, get on her knees and crawl to me. "That was amazing, and—" She kissed me deep, and I snuck my hands under the jacket to hug her naked body to me tight. "Hmm—that's what I taste like?" She stuck her tongue down my throat again, and I brought her back, hovering fast, grasping her hips and pulling her closer.

Maggie withdrew her arms from my neck to fumble with my belt and zipper, and I thanked God for that. People always joke about blue balls, although I'd never truly experienced it—being aroused to the point of pain before, before tonight.

"Your belt—" It was stuck, and I groaned in aggravation, undoing my pants quickly. Nevertheless, I didn't do anything else, just opened them with the hopes that she'd touch my cock.

It was official; I was fifteen again.

"Can I see it?" she asked into my mouth.

I paused, leaving her—bringing my pants down to take out my dick.

Her eyes went wide, her head tilted. "Can I—"

"Yes!" I rushed out.

Her fingers were cold as they touched the head.

And she had no idea what she was doing, but she was driving me crazy. "Wow, the skin is soft...but it's like a rock." I barely heard her as she poked along my shaft.

"Grab it." My voice was strained.

"Okay." Her touch was too delicate, so I took her hand, wrapping it around my cock—showing her how to tug.

"Fuck." My back arched, my lips touching her hair. Maggie's hand felt fantastic. "Lie back." Lightning fast, I reached for my wallet.

She threw herself down, her legs wide as she softly jacked my dick. Maggie could hardly reach me, but my hips moved in time with her touch.

"You still…?" I showed her the condom.

She gave me a nod, her thighs shaking again.

"Shhh…it's okay." I placed my lips to hers. "It's going to hurt going in . . . um—" She had no idea how much I wanted this, needed this, how eager I was to be inside her.

"It's all right." She held my cheek. "I know."

Putting the condom on was easy, having the balls to fuck her was a whole other matter. I was scared, because . . . I had no idea. "You tell me to stop…if you want me to. Okay?"

"I won't—"

"No." I leaned on my arm, staring down to place a lingering kiss. "You tell me."

"Okay," she whispered, holding my shoulders.

"You need to breathe . . . remember." I gulped, and I couldn't believe I was still hard with all this thinking going on. "You need to relax, or it's going to hurt more."

She inhaled, exhaled, and pulled me down to her mouth again—which was my best refuge yet. I kissed along her neck, going down to her breasts, and then back up to search her eyes. "Maggie…"

She was turned on again, slightly thrashing, and I decided to go back to what I was doing—while I also grabbed my cock, pressing it to her clit and sliding down, placing it at her entrance—deciding to let instinct take over.

When she was relaxed, mewling, sighing, my thumb twirling around her clit again—my hips moved forward. She gasped, tightening, and I groaned—swearing her pussy was going to chop the head of my dick off.

"Relax…shhh." I soothed, breathing into her ear. "You want me to stop?"

"No." She calmed, her hands going from my shoulders to cup my neck. "Just—"

"Baby...look at me." I held my breath, staring into her eyes as I slowly, and painfully, entered her. Maggie didn't make a sound, her gaze never leaving mine. She was soaked, I glided right in, but there was a lot of resistance, obviously. "Breathe." I blew out my own shaky breath, watching tears spill from the corners of her eyes. "You're okay." I kissed each one away, licking the salty taste from my lips; pausing and letting her adjust, but I'd picked up a slow rhythm with my thumb again—knowing that by now, she had a pleasure and pain thing going on, and I hadn't even fully entered her yet. "Talk to me," I said, my voice octaves higher than usual. I had to clear my throat.

"It—I feel—too full—I don't know," she whispered, her body rigid, like she was afraid to move, so I did.

Very slightly, I slid out to come back, claiming her mouth again. She kissed me, the vigor of it going from slow to fast as I picked up the pace a bit. I stretched my neck, my hips and eyes rolling, swearing I never felt anything as good. "Fuck…you don't know how good you feel, baby. You have no idea." My heart swelled, my body in a state of euphoria, and I tried to maintain myself—didn't want to lose control. "Shit." I was still going too slow.

"You feel . . . it doesn't—doesn't hurt as—as much." She spread her legs a little more.

As I let out a groan, I grabbed them, wrapping them around my hips—going deeper with each thrust.

And the way she was pulling my hair, kissing and biting on my neck, even if she was still afraid to move . . .

All too soon—a lot sooner than usual—I whispered, "I'm—fuck." I came, going as deep as I could, my hip bone nearly digging into her ass, I held her so tight, went too deep—letting go, planting my palms on her head to get closer, and Maggie moaned out her pain.

"I'm sorry—" I grabbed the base of my cock, making sure I had the condom, as I pulled out—and I was still coming, but I hated that I'd caused her to cry. "Are—you—you—" My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest.

Maggie was curled on her side again, holding her pussy.

"Hey…" My cock forgotten, I lay behind her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Thank God." I smiled, kissing her shoulder, my heart filled with joy. I was fucking ecstatic, yet worrisome. "Are you sure?"

She turned over in my arms, and she still had tears streaming down her cheeks, but she was smiling. "I just had sex."

I nodded. "You did."

She giggled into my chest, all of which just made me happier. "It wasn't bad."

"Thanks." I kissed her forehead.

"No, I mean, like, it was amazing." She sat up, only for her face to crumble. "It was beautiful. I feel—I feel so much."

I wasn't being a douchebag, but I let her get a good cry out while I tore off the condom and threw it away from us. There was blood on it and the blanket below us. It wasn't a monumental amount, but it was there, and I had no idea what was normal or not. I've only ever been with one other virgin, and that was a very long time ago. Even though, that only other time, I'd lost my virginity, too, I couldn't recall a lot about it anymore.

Then I fixed my pants, tucking in my shirt, as she wiped her eyes—coming back down.

"You all right?"

She sniffled. "Yeah."

"Good." I grabbed her bottom-skirt-thing and helped her back into it. She let me dress her and straighten up her hair, combing it with my fingers while I'd occasionally kiss her. Those lips . . . her pouty mouth kept calling out to me, and I wanted to keep her smiling.

Her makeup was a mess, but she was still gorgeous, we'd take care of that before she saw anyone.

"How—how long have we been up here?" she asked.

I shrugged, and all I knew was that it was still dark out. My phone had various missed calls—all from family members wondering where we'd gone—but it was only a little after two o'clock. I bet they were all still here—drunk as skunks and having a great time.

"Have a drink with me?" I helped her up from the ground.

She smiled. "Yeah."

Taking her hand in mine, we went back inside. I stood guard outside the bathroom in Jasper's office, noticing no one had even come in here. I bet they figured I actually left the club with Maggie or something.

I smiled, shaking my head, as Maggie left the bathroom.

"Before you ask…I'm okay," she giggled. "I had sex."

I laughed, gathering her into my arms, while something important came to mind. "We did—we had sex." She let me kiss her silly.

"But . . ." Now I was going to sound like a douchebag, and I knew it. "I don't have a problem with your age, but others might—especially given how close you are to Kylie now, and my family. We should keep this between us—something special—that only we know about."

She nodded. "Okay. I get it. My parents would kill me."

"Right . . . exactly." I was glad she seemed cool with that.

"Can I tell Kylie, though?"

"Yeah…just tell her not to tell nobody," I laughed, kissing her—because she had a mouth I couldn't stop kissing. "You ready to go back out there?"

She straightened my tie for me. "Yes."

"How's your...?" I looked down.

"Achy but okay. I promise."

"Good." I kissed her forehead. "Let's get that drink."

Feeling like I was on top of the world, we trailed back up to V.I.P., only this time she had my jacket on. Her steps were slow, so we didn't speed up there. She said her legs were still shaky—and I thought that should be her new nickname, Shaky. She made me feel that way, and she's always shaking . . .

To my complete and utter astonishment, we weren't bombarded with questions when we'd made our presence known. The party was still going strong—people laughing, drinking, and Kylie was still fucking dancing.

"There you are!" She was the first to shout for us. "I'm so drunk! And I missed my Maggie-Mags!" She leapt at Maggie, and I made sure they didn't fall to the ground in a fit of giggles.

"Where'd you go?" My father sidled up to us. "I'm responsible for her, and you just take off?" He seemed drunk, too.

"We went for a walk," I said.

"Walk, my ass!" Kylie spanked herself.

"Oh, Jesus." Dad groaned, slumping his shoulders, but his comment was in reference to Kylie.

"Come on, Skip! Let's do another Jager shot thing!" She jumped up, and then hung from my father's neck.

I chuckled, massaging his shoulder. "Let go . . . have fun."

He smiled at me, mouthing, "You, too", before he ushered my sister to the bar. Mom was there, just as bombed as Kylie—singing along to the music with Alex.

The room was filled with more people from the organization, and I made sure to stay away from those tables—giving curt head nods as we walked. Tonight, I didn't want to associate with any of those people, or be dragged into something. Tonight, it was about having a good time.

"Dude, I haven't seen you all night." Anthony slapped his hand to mine, as I kept my arm draped over Maggie.

"Where's AJ?" I tried to look around, but it really was crowded now, the lights dim.

"He was here . . . looked for you, too. Melanie showed up . . . they're downstairs dancing, I think."

"Cool," I said, reaching for his drink. He let me have it, and it was a vodka tonic—not exactly my thing. "Try this." I gave it to Maggie.

She coughed, handing it back to Anthony.

"Sorry." I kissed her hair. "I thought you might like it." As I picked my head up, I locked eyes with my brother, but he was fast to look away. "We'll be at the bar." Wanting to avoid Dame and any drama at all costs, that's where we went—where I asked for a bottle of Jack, and an Appletini for Miss Thing—Shaky, who couldn't stop smiling.

"I thought you were supposed to be, be—" Mom was slurring her words, "the vampire tonight."

I sipped from the bottle, keeping Maggie in my periphery. She was laughing with Kylie and Alex. "That was before you called and asked me to be Prince Charming."

"Yeah, but you gotta a bite." Mom poked my neck, and I didn't know what was there, nor did I care. She gasped. "Did Maggie give you that? Little Hoover, you!" She slapped Maggie's ass, making her jump, and that bothered me.

"Look at yourself," I said, taking her drink away. "You're supposed to be—" I wasn't sure what to say, but the way she was dressed, the level of drunkenness . . . It was too much.

"I'm a lot of things, Santino!" she shouted, getting scrappy with me and sounding like my father.

"What's good?" Dad asked, yoking her into his side.

"He's being a party fucker-upper, Skip!"

Dad winked at me. "He's just looking out for you, love. You're a drink away from puking. Slow down."

Mom fixed her hair, standing straight. "I'm not drunk."

"You're a fucking liar!" Alex was just as sloppy, joining us and nearly knocking Mom over.

"Where's Ed?" I asked.

"Oh my God!" Alex screamed, and my heart leapt.

"He's with Carlisle." Dad pointed.

Alex held her chest, leaning into Mom.

"Remember when you thought you lost him at, at the Bronx Zoo?" My mother was about to piss herself. "So, you got him a leash…"

Alex was bent over, almost drooling on herself. "He used to—he used to—" She couldn't even talk.

That's when I started laughing, because, my family knows how to fucking party. It was something to be proud of.

"Hi." Maggie pulled on my sleeve.

"Hey." I put my arm out, and she nestled into me. "You want another one?" Her glass was almost empty.

"Sure." She finished it off, turning for the bartender, keeping her back to me.

I ordered her another one, placing my arms on each side of her, trapping her to the bar. In this light she was even prettier, if that was possible. "I want to kiss you so bad." I breathed into her ear. "You don't even know."

She reached back to rub me over my slacks. "I think I do."

"Hmmm." I sucked her earlobe into my mouth, which made her squeal.

"You're making me ache even more," she said.

"Good." My hand spanned her stomach, holding her to me, but then someone tapped on my shoulder.

It was my mother. "You guys are a thing? La-like for real?" she asked.

I lightly pinched Maggie's side, and when I caught her attention, I winked. "We're getting married," I said. "I asked and she said yes."

"What?" Mom was just shocked—blank face and wide eyes. "Edward!" she screeched.

"Oh my God, shut up." Alex pushed her.

"Don't push me." Mom pushed back.

"Just stop!" Alex got her again.

"Bring it, bitch!" Mom slapped her chest twice quickly with both hands.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and hoisted her up to a barstool.

"Look at you! Swooping in like Superman!" She smiled at me.

"Stay there," I said.

When she gave me the finger, I knew it was all good, especially when the song changed and the ladies screamed.

"I had more fun on the roof," Maggie said, sipping her drink.

I bit my lip, just smiling down at her, because I did, too. "What do you want to do?" I guzzled the Jack—I would appreciate a nice buzz at this point, but would settle on getting a hotel and snuggling with Maggie.

She furrowed her brow, placing her hand on her stomach. "I'd actually like to sit down."

I laughed. "Just sit down? Pick a seat."

She grabbed my hand and led me toward the only empty booth we could find.

"Try this." I handed her the bottle.

"No," she declined.

"Smart girl." I relaxed back with Shaky and Jack, and I never would have imagined my fucked-up, boring day ending this way. "I'm glad you came tonight." With my arm around her, my hand snuck under the fabric of her top, my fingers tweaking her nipple.

"Me too." She melted into me. "Kiss me."

Not giving a fuck anymore, I was about to, but then . . .

"Where did you guys sneak off to?" Amelia came sliding into the booth opposite us, and where Amelia goes . . .

"'Sup?" My brother was appraising me again, his eyes settling on my right hand, which withdrew itself from Maggie's corset. "What's that?" He jerked his chin.

"Where'd you guys go?" Amelia asked again.

"We went for a walk," Maggie told her.

"Dude—" Dame hit my shoulder.

"What—nothing," I said.

Damion seemed hesitant, but then sat next to Amelia.

"Wait…I gotta pee." She stopped him.

"You just went."

"And I gotta go again—move!" She pushed him, and I laughed—the most mundane of conversation amusing at this point.

Damion got up and let her out of the booth, and then sat back down.

"You're not coming with me?"

My brother cocked a brow, his gaze a bit vacant. He was tipsy, too. "Do I have to wipe you? I will, I mean, you lemme know."

Amelia shook her head, stumbling away.

"Go," I told him. "You're going to let her go alone? Even if we're in V.I.P., fucking look out for your girl, man."

"It's right there. I can see it from here . . . Why don't you go with her?" He stared at Maggie.

"Um…" She looked up at me, and I actually wanted a moment alone with Dame.

"Go 'head…" I stood up to let her out. "I'll be right here." I stayed so I was facing the bathrooms, leaning on the back of the booth where Dame was sitting. Then I watched her go, her gait wide and her stride slow.

"What are you doing?" Damion asked me.

"Nothing. I'm chillin'." I sipped from the bottle.

"Well, what the hell was that?"

"What are you talking about?" I played stupid.

He shook his head. "When Amelia comes back, take her to the bar . . ." He sat back, loosening his tie. "This shit with Maggie isn't sitting right." He was making up a bullshit issue. "I should talk to her."

"No," I said.

"What's the big deal?"

"'Cause you're going to fuck with her head." I shouted. "You're not interested, you got a girl, just leave her alone—"

"She's staring at me, sneaking into the backyard—"

"That was before . . ."

"Before what?" He stood up to face me.

"Before me." I spoke slow and stared into his eyes so he'd understand me.

"Oh, you're going to turn this into something it's not? I'm happy in my relationship. I love Amelia—"

"Whoa!" I laughed. "I don't even know what you're talking about anymore. You don't have to defend your shit."

"I don't know either." He grumbled. "I'm with Amelia; meanwhile, when I see Maggie . . . I've been avoiding the house because she's always there with Kylie."

"That's why? The truth?" I asked.

He nodded, pushing his hair back. "I don't even know what to say . . . but I have to say something. Please, get Amelia another drink."

I shook my head. "You're not going to talk to Maggie. Fuck, bro, don't even look at her. You're in love? Chill with your girl, and let me worry about Maggie."

He looked around himself. "Why—since when do you give a fuck? I don't understand."

"Since—" I paused, watching the ladies exit the bathroom.

"Just do me this favor."

"No," I said, hopefully for the last time.

He cocked a brow, smirking. "No, shit. You're interested?" He pointed to me. "She's a virgin, which really isn't your type. You should just stick to the girls at the club."

"You should just stick to thinking about your own girl—"

"She's all I do think about!" Maggie and Amelia actually went to the bar by themselves. "I want to tell Maggie to back off."

"You don't have to—I took care of it." I guzzled, guzzled, guzzled that Jack, my brain finally a bit foggy. Damion was grating on my nerves, and, now, I had to piss. But I knew—once I walked away, my brother was going to . . .

"Come to the bathroom with me."

"You need me to hold your cock? Why does everyone have to go the bathroom together?" He laughed, plopping back down into the booth.

Since Amelia was around, lingering in the area, with Maggie—no less—I went to take a piss. I actually had to concentrate, my cock a little sore, but I was fast to run back out after washing my hands.

By now, they were all by the bar, Damion standing behind Maggie, leaning his nose close to her hair.

I reached around him for her hand, pulling her away.

Motherfucker thinks he's slick.

"What'd he say to you?"

"Who?" she giggled, slamming back her drink.

"Damion."

"Nothing." She smiled up at me. "Why?"

"You feeling better?"

"I'm fantastic," she sighed. "I'm amazing. You're amazing." We sat in the same booth as before. "We're all amazing!"

"Good." I kissed her cheek, draping my arm around her. "After tonight, um . . ." I tilted my bottle back for liquid courage. "Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" It'd been ages since I asked any woman that.

"Me?" She looked confused.

"Yes, you." She was so fucking cute. "Tomorrow, or the next day, I dunno. We'll do something. It doesn't even have to be dinner. We can hang out."

"Like a date?" She reached for the Jack and actually took a sip. "That's nasty."

I laughed. "It can be whatever you want it to be." I just knew I wanted to see her again. "A date." I nodded.

"Yes . . . but . . ." She put her head down.

"What is it?" I turned her chin up to me.

"I'd have to meet you somewhere. You can't just—pick me up at my door, this older guy." She was definitely tipsy, talking so carefree.

"Well, Bay Ridge is a small neighborhood . . . Remember those complications—things that made my life complicated?" I asked.

She nodded.

"I just can't have you showing up at my door. Understand? Although I'm sure you know where I live—and I don't mean my parents' house."

"Your ex lives with you."

"Yes," I said.

"Do you still . . . um, with her?"

"No." I think I knew what she was getting at.

"But . . ." She blushed, looking away from me. "Um—"

"Don't hold out on me now." I tickled her side. "Talk to me." I felt like I'd bared my soul to her for some reason, that we had…something.

"Can you pick me up from school one day in your car?" Her words were slurred.

"I can do that," I agreed.

"It's a really nice car and everyone thinks I'm a loser—"

"Fuck them." I pulled her into my side for the hundredth time, hoping she'd stay there. "After you graduate, you probably won't see those people ever again."

"True," she mused.

"Trust me. Everyone goes their separate ways—" I stopped talking when Aro came sliding into the booth.

"Wassup, Sonny?" He didn't look happy.

"Nothing." I shrugged. "You having a good time?" He was dressed like a Roman soldier, which made it hard for me to take him seriously—that red feathered hat thing on his head, strap under his chin.

"Not really," he said.

I laughed my ass off. "You look like the fucking Trojan Man!" I sang it like the commercial.

He gave me a tight-lipped smile, and then looked to Maggie. "Hon, can you give us a minute?"

"Stay here," I told her, leaving the booth. "What's up?" I wanted Aro to follow me.

"Sit." He pointed down. "You go." He stared at Maggie, jerking his thumb.

"Just—" I stood back, letting her leave, wishing we'd never left the roof. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but while Maggie kept looking back at me, I peeped Dame get closer and closer to her. Aggravated, I sat down. "How can I help you?"

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked. "My daughter's at your crib, sleeping in your fucking bed, and you're here—traipsin' around with jailbait over there. Please, give me a fucking reason, as to why—" he stabbed the table with his finger, "I should not fuck you up right now."

I shook my head, thinking he wasn't up on current events. "Aro, we're not together. We're just friends. It didn't work out—"

"I know all that. I still find it highly disrespectful. She's still living with you."

"Look, your daughter didn't want me. She's living with me because she has no other place to go—"

"No, you just wanna have your cake and eat it, too."

I pursed my lips. "All right. I don't want her to go, but only because I have plans—plans that'll benefit us in the long run once the baby gets here."

He just kept shaking his head.

"What?" I asked him. "We're not together."

His gaze slowly came back to mine. "You're an embarrassment. You embarrassed me, Katie, yourself—"

"Why? Because of these nosy fuckers?" I waved a hand.

"Yeah, because somehow . . . it got back to Katie—what you're doing. Why I gotta be on the phone with her for an hour, while she cries, because of your dumb ass? It's like youse are back in high school."

"Somehow?" I smirked. "You mean AJ? Your son has a big mouth and should close it."

"Doesn't matter how she found out—"

"No, it does." I shrugged. "Loose lips sink ships. You feel me now?"

"That's not the point—"

"It is," I said. "Because whether it's secret info or not—none of these motherfuckers would have opened their mouths. Who talks to Katie? No one but your son. He got her upset for no reason, not me. I was here minding my business, and if Katie truly gave a fuck? She would have accepted my marriage proposal, or told me I couldn't fuck around—she never did."

"Well, she does give a fuck." He was pissed, sitting there grinding his teeth. "Just go home and settle your shit."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said, "because now I don't give a fuck."

"Sonny—"

"While we're at it, why's AJ even in my business?" I asked. "You better watch. Next he'll be telling Aunt Lee-Lee all about Layla—your favorite Eclipse girl."

"We're not talking about me—"

"Why the fuck not?" I asked. "We're getting personal." I waved a hand between us.

"Go home. She's upset. Just go home and clean up your mess—"

"No. I'll leave when I want to. Katie hasn't even called me, so I don't know what kind of show she's putting on for you and your son. Don't you understand?" I laughed at myself and the situation. "You're a sensible guy, Aro. Please." The last thing I was going to do was plead my case to Aro. He can either understand or get the fuck outta my face.

"If I didn't say anything . . . I bet you would have gone home and crawled into bed with her, like nothing was wrong—"

"Whoa . . . what I do when I get home is abso-fucking-lutely none of your business." I chuckled. "And what's wrong? I'm having drinks with my sister's friend. Since when is that a crime?"

"And now you're going to sit here and lie to me?" He inched closer to me.

I widened my arms, throwing myself back.

"It's also embarrassing when everyone's coming up to congratulate you, on becoming a grandfather, but your supposed son-in-law has taken off with…whoever the fuck."

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you. I'm sorry things couldn't work out, but I did everything I could." I brought my voice down. "And I took a walk—nothing happened."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You're covered in glitter, lipstick on your collar—fucking bite mark on your neck . . ."

"You're acting like I cheated on you. I did nothing wrong. We're. Not. Together." I said it even slower this time.

"And you're going to go home, let Katie see you like that?" He gestured to me.

"Maybe she should." I shrugged. "My world—my life doesn't stop just because Katie's hormones fluctuate. She'll go back to not giving a shit tomorrow. Trust."

"Looks like Shorty moved on to Dame, though." He stared away from us, and I didn't even bother to turn around. "Maybe she's into couples . . ."

"Shut your mouth." I was so sick of him. "You wanna swing at me? Make a scene? Fucking do it so I can get on with my night." I drank from my bottle.

"You guys broke up—like what? A week and a half ago?"

"No, we told you guys a week and half ago. Can you stop? Are we done?" I was ready to swing at him, although I dug the concerned father routine. "I never, ever, during my whole entire life—never have I disrespected Katie. If we were together—"

He shook his head. "You can't see my point."

"And you can't see mine!" I shouted.

"You pushed her to leave Raul—"

"Oh, leave that motherfucker out of this!" I was ready to get up and walk away.

"He was a nice guy—"

"Aro," I chuckled without humor, "Please."

"She's my daughter. I'll never apologize for looking out for her—"

"And I respect that, but you don't know all the facts. If hating me—breaking my balls—makes you feel better about the situation, then by all means." I widened my arms. "But I've asked you and my family the same shit—let Sonny and Katie worry about Sonny and Katie. I'm taking care of her. I'm doing the right thing, regardless. We live like roommates…" I paused, "and given that—given your own personal history with a living arrangement like that, I expect your privacy and discretion—especially since we work together."

He wasn't honoring our "don't ask don't tell" policy, although I never needed it before, like I don't need it now.

"I'm single. What Maggie and I did or didn't do is no one's business."

He put his hands up. "I guess you told me."

"Don't get cunty—"

"Shut your fucking mouth. I'm so tired of it."

I didn't say a word, silence—by the grace of God—falling upon us.

While I sat there and drank, he sat there and stewed. He was angry with me, when he had no reason to be.

"Shorty's walking funny—you stuck your cock in that little girl?"

"Whoa!" That came out of nowhere. "I don't know what your real problem is, but you need to go settle that shit." It was obvious—based on his watered-down argument, regardless of if Katie really called him crying, which might not have even happened—that I wasn't the real source of his misery.

He reached out, yoking me up by my collar, and I slapped his hands down. "You really wanna do this?" I asked, standing, ready to lay his old ass out.

"You're not even worth it," he said, which was unlike him, and if he really had grounds to be upset with me, I'd be knocked out by now. "You're a sad man, Santino."

"Now I'm sad…" I actually looked around for Dad, wanting him to come check his friend.

"Katie's seven months pregnant…with your baby. She's living with you." He poked my chest. "I still can't believe you just left her to come chill here."

"You don't know what you're talking about." None of this was any of is business, yet I was being very nice about this. "But with trying to placate Katie, I haven't seen my family in a while. I've hardly seen them at all since Katie's living with me. And she was more than welcome to come, but she didn't want to. She didn't ask me to stay home either—"

"There's still a chance you'll work shit out. You could show some respect . . . In my eyes, you're still doing her dirty." Then he just abruptly turned and walked away.

And that was when my father finally decided to drop by. "What was that about? He looks pissed."

"Where were you five minutes ago?" I asked.

"Across the room, watching." He pointed.

"Right," I laughed. "He thinks I did Katie dirty, but we're not together. You get it, right?"

"It's not what you did," Dad said. "It's how ya did it—very publicly and around Katie's friends and family." He patted my back. "Get it now?"

Honestly, it still didn't sting or register.

I massaged my forehead. "Can I stay at the house tonight?"

He shook his head. "Maggie's sleeping over."

"You don't trust me to go to my old room and sleep?" I asked. "And I bet Dame is staying there, too, now, right?"

"Amelia will be there—"

"That'll stop him . . ." I looked over to Amelia, who was nearly passed out, leaning on the side of a booth. Dame and Maggie were chatting it up at a neighboring table.

"Fuck." Dad stared at the same scene I was. "Did'ju fuck her?" He slapped his hand on my chest to stop me from walking away.

"You know what?" I smiled. "I did, and it was fan-fucking-tastic."

"That's little Maggie, man . . . I didn't want Dame with her, and I definitely don't want you with her. She just turned eighteen, for fuck's sake. She's Kylie's friend—"

"So you equate Maggie with Kylie. I get it." I rolled my eyes. "Between Mom, Kylie, and even Maggie herself . . . You mean to tell me, I can have the keys and the gas, but I can't drive the car? She's not your kid."

"Get away from me." He pointed. "I don't even wanna look at you."

Groaning and drinking, I walked right over to Dame and Maggie. I had no shame, was genuinely curious as to what they'd be talking about for all this time. "You wanna leave?" I sat next to her.

"Okay," she said.

"Whoa…where you going?" Dame asked.

"I dunno . . ." I was honest. "Just not here."

"Oh." Dame nodded. "I grab Amelia and we'll—"

"No," I told him. "You're not invited." I pushed Maggie's hair behind her ears. "We can do anything you want."

She grinned, holding my hand to her cheek. "I'm supposed to sleep over—"

"I know, baby." I kissed her temple. "But you don't have to. We can duck out, do something. Just us."

"What the fuck?" my brother shouted.

I ignored him, a small smile creeping on my lips. "Unless you wanna stay here and talk to him." I jerked a thumb to Dame.

"No," Maggie giggled. "Let's go."

A bright smile was on my lips now, excited to be able to spend more time with her. "Cool—"

"Can I talk to you privately?" Damion asked.

"What now?" I stared at him, and then to Shaky. "Can you give us a minute? Don't disappear. We're leaving in five minutes." I pecked her nose.

She scrunched it, smiling widely as she stood up, still holding my hands. "I'll just…" Maggie tilted her head—just away—before leaving the table, and I think she was getting used to this shit by now. She went right over to Kylie, and they started whispering back and forth. When my sister's wide eyes met mine, I knew Maggie'd told her what we did.

And for someone who needed to speak with me, Damion hadn't uttered a word. "What?" I asked him. "Like I said, I'm leaving in five."

"Sonny, she's a kid—"

"Get the fuck outta here with that shit. You're like a dog with two bones!"

"What are you gonna do? Run away with her? Dad—her dad, they'd hunt you down," he laughed.

"She's old enough to vote, join the army, smoke; she's old enough to smoke my cock—"

He was fast with the Aro move, grabbing onto my collar.

"Really?" I asked him, wishing a motherfucker would at this point.

"She's a good kid—don't fuck with her," he said, letting me go. "Why do you think I kept my distance? It's not right."

"You're telling me what's not right?" I pushed him away from me, and he came flying back at me.

He got in my face. "You're going to use her—spit her out, and then—"

"No, bro . . . you don't get to care. You don't get to worry about her." I stepped closer to him. "Worry about your own girl—"

"You kidding me with this shit?"

"No, I broke into that shit . . . understand? That makes her mine—that means, you step off. You don't talk to her; you don't even fucking look at her." I seethed, damn near close to clocking his ass out. "You hear me, Dame? I don't know what games you're playin', but she ain't interested. She's mine—"

"What's going on?" Kylie wedged herself between us.

"Br-broke into?" Damion stuttered.

"You heard my words; now heed my warning," I said, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"Guys, come on…" Kylie pushed us away from each other, and Damion was the first to swing.

As I ducked his fist, I pushed Kylie out of the way, and then knocked his ass flat onto a table—squeezing his neck when he was on his back.

There was a flurry of movement around me, and I was torn away from him before I could even say or do anything more. "Relax!" Dad was in my face, Carlisle and Anthony holding me back.

And Kylie was helping Damion sit up.

It was comical.

"What the fuck is up with you?" Carlisle whispered in my ear.

I shrugged him off, looking to my father. "Keep Damion away from me."

"I think it's best you left," Dad said.

"I was thinking the same." I smoothed down my shirt.

"Don't even think about leaving with Shorty…"

Gnashing my teeth together, I held my forehead, held my breath.

"Fuck, Sonny. I don't know what's so special about her, but she better be at my house before your mother wakes up."

Suddenly, I was grinning at my father—couldn't believe he'd cave like that, when he'd never, in my whole entire life, done it before, let me get away with something.

"Thank you," I said.

He patted my back as I went to seek out Maggie.

She was standing by the bar and she seemed nervous—likely because of the scuffle.

But as soon as I put my hand out . . .

She took it.

"Are you okay?" Her eyes trailed about my chest, settling on my face.

"I'm good. Nothing happened." I kissed her knuckles.

"You're so strong..." she sighed. "You just—like you slapped him away like he was a fly or something." She stepped closer, rubbing her hands up my torso.

I grinned. "I work out a lot."

"I bet." Her face was red. "What was that about?"

"You," I said. "Regardless of what he said to me, I can see right through him. Your little plan worked like a charm."

She looked down.

I lifted her chin. "You should be smiling."

Maggie shook her head. "It was all for fun." She shrugged a shoulder. "You guys fighting—"

"Happens all the time. We're brothers." I chuckled.

"Either way, I'm not worth it."

"You're wrong." I kissed her forehead. "But if you still—if there's a chance you still like him—" I didn't know how to continue. Maybe she was just listening to my sister, used me to lose her virginity, and nothing meant anything to her.

"After...after the roof—I mean, how can you ask me that?" Her chest touched mine. "I can't explain the way you—you, Santino—the way you make me feel." She grasped my other hand.

"All right." My smile was so wide. It likely lit up the darkened room. "Did you want to leave, or stay here?" No matter how much I wanted to chill, I wasn't going to make her.

"Leave," she whispered.

"Let's go."

Tucked into my side, we left Midnight Sun without another word to anyone. The main floor had cleared out some—close to closing time. Then we were on the sidewalk, and I was watching out for cabs.

"Where did you want to go?"

She shrugged, entwining our fingers. "I don't know," she giggled.

"We could go to a hotel, but…" I didn't want to seem presumptuous.

After all, we'd already fucked, and I was content to cuddle, just hang out for a while, needing to just fucking relax and let go. "You decide—are you hungry?" That idea came to mind. "We can hit up a diner, and then . . . by that time Kylie will be home."

"My clothes are there—"

"I can buy you new ones. I don't want you to worry about some stupid shit like that." Okay, so I really wanted to hit up a hotel here in Manhattan, and stay away from Bay Ridge. I'd take her to Barney's in the morning, spoil her ass rotten before I brought her back—whenever that would be. I didn't give a fuck about the shit my father said. He'll forget, not give a fuck by morning.

"What?" She thought that was funny. "You don't have to—"

"Hey." I held her tighter. "I'd want to, and you can't wear this tomorrow." I looked down to her skimpy outfit. "Not for nothing, I bet you're freezing." I pulled my jacket that she was wearing closed.

"Well, Kylie said we'd be going from cars and then into places..." She looked to the street.

But then I held her close, the tightest I could, roaming my hands down her back. I didn't know what had come over me . . . I wanted a do-over, a chance to make up for what we did on the roof, but we didn't have to fuck again if she wasn't up for it.

In the end, Maggie was agreeable with whatever I wanted to do, which made it easy once we'd gotten a taxi.

"Waldorf-Astoria," I told the driver.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.

How was that? I've never written a "virgin" scene before. (shrug) I still think it's hot. SONNY is hot!

Edward is up Next!