Vik by Belle Aurora

8

Nastasia

The secondI walked into the house from my half-assed workout, I balked when I heard music playing in the kitchen. And because it could have been any number of people, I proceeded with caution. But the second I heard her wailing out the lyrics to “Livin’ On A Prayer,” I huffed out a laugh, wiping the sweat from my brow and strolling into the room, my tone light and breezy. “What are you doing here?”

Cora stood, leaning over my breakfast bar, reading from an enormous textbook.

“The tenants upstairs are boinking again.”

Right.

“And the noise bothers you?” I asked with raised brows, because I could barely hear over Bon Jovi blasting from my portable speaker.

And like the Cora I knew, she made a sound deep in her throat, then confessed, “Not really. Actually, I work much better with chaotic shit going on around me. It’s just that the walls are paper-thin, and—I’m not even kidding—I can hear everything. Everything. Problem is, it makes me horny. Like, super horny. Can’t concentrate kinds of horny. So, here I am.” She shot me a smirk. “No risk of finding sex here. Not even a little. I’ll bet you’ve got cobwebs tangled in your pubes.”

“Uh, rude.” I threw my sweaty towel at her, and she caught it, but the second she realized what it was, she let out a disgusted noise and flung it away. It landed softly on the floor.

“Not wrong though,” she muttered, still repulsed, wiping her hands down the length of her jeans.

I shook my head at her, walking around to the fridge and bringing out a carton of apple juice. When I drank from the carton, Cora’s expression turned miffed. “What if I wanted some?”

So, I took the apple juice in my mouth and made a show of dribbling it back into the carton before shaking it up and handing it to her. “Go for it.”

Cora’s brows rose at the challenge. “You think I won’t do it?”

“I know you won’t do it.”

She snatched the carton from my hand, narrowed her eyes on me, and said, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

She wouldn’t do it.

But she lifted the carton to her lips.

She wouldn’t do it.

Then tipped it back.

Oh my God, she was doing it.

She took a huge gulp, and I let out a slow, disbelieving, “Ewww.”

“See?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and attempted to smile, but her lips were crooked. “No pro—”

I didn’t see the gag coming, but when it hit, I barked out a laugh and rushed forward to her as she bent over the sink and gagged once more. “Are you okay?”

She made a face and wheezed out, “That was really gross. Don’t tell anyone I did that.”

My heart warmed as I realized Cora looked at my house as a safe haven. It made sense though. She lived here for a while, and it was good. We rarely fought, but when we did, it was normally over something stupid, like “Did you eat my muffin?” or “Hey, that’s my sweater.”

As time went on, I had to acknowledge that although I had no sisters by blood, I had three I’d chosen. Cora was one of them.

Snuffling out a laugh, I poured the remainder of the juice down the sink, and asked, “Spoken to Alessio?”

The sour expression she wore told me she hadn’t.

Her brow furrowed as she drew out the word, “Nooo. I call, and he doesn’t answer. I text, and he doesn’t respond.” Her face screwed up. “I was so desperate that I did the whole ‘Hey, sexy,’ and then sent him another text immediately after that saying ‘Oops, wrong person. Sorry.’”

Oh, wow. Pulling out the big guns. “And he didn’t bite?”

She leaned back against the counter, looking as miserable as I’d ever seen her. “Not even a nibble. What a psycho.”

God, he was stubborn. What was it about these men? Ask them to shoot a guy and they’d barely hesitate. Ask them to admit their feelings, and they suddenly no hablo inglés.

If we were going hard, we needed backup. “You know, we might have to get Mina to help out on this one.”

Cora sighed, then moped, “Seriously? That’s where we’re at? We’ve got to bring a third person into this?” She turned and dropped her head onto the counter with a thud. What she said next came out muffled. “Why can’t I just like a guy who likes me back? One who wants to give me two in the pink and one in the stink? Is that so much to ask?”

Lord above. She needed Jesus.

I stroked her hair and cooed, “He will. He’s just scared because you’re little and full of spunk, and he’s all doom and gloom. The two of you together are gonna be like a match in a gas tank.” I tugged at a silken strand of her blonde locks. “Explosive.”

She lifted her head and pursed her lips. “You think so?”

“I know so,” I declared, gathering her hair in my hands and pulling it off her shoulders, playing with the thick mane in the way I always had. “Let’s go talk to Mina. After that, we’re going to La Perla.” I grinned deviously. “And on the way home… a detour, I think.”

* * *

Three hoursof shopping and multiple purchases later, a plan had been hatched, and while Mina wasn’t exactly happy about the part I asked her to play, she admitted that her brother was being obstinate and needed a gentle shove in order to get him moving.

“He’s going to be mad.” Mina fidgeted in the back seat, practically moaning in distress as we pulled up to the house.

As if Alessio could ever stay mad at his baby sister. He adored her. She was sunlight on the tombstone where he lay. In many ways, her mere presence had brought him back to life. Alessio Scarfo was a shell of a man until Mina wormed her way into his heart, and there she stayed.

“He won’t be mad,” I muttered indifferently but quietly added, “at you.”

Because he was always mad, and if he was going to be mad at anyone, it was going to be me. It was always me. And I didn’t mind. Our strange family connection made us close in a way that meant being mad at each other was a passing emotion.

We heated up quickly but got over it just as fast.

And I wasn’t just doing this for Cora. I was doing this for him. Because he had been through things, and my eldest brother was a ghost from the past who haunted him. I don’t know whether it was guilt or the fact that I secretly thought he was a decent guy, but Alessio deserved the epic love that Cora would provide. He would be changed by it if he’d only been willing to accept it.

“I’m not sure about this anymore,” Cora said cautiously. “Mina’s right. He’s going to be pissed.”

Was she serious?

I blinked at her. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Especially from you, Ms. Throw-Your-Panties-Off-Turn-And-Wait.”

“That’s different,” she said.

I returned an exasperated, “How?”

And then she twisted to face me, just as maddened, and broke my heart. “Because I didn’t love them, okay?”

In the rearview mirror, I watched Mina’s face transform with shock—her brows rose, and her mouth rounded with it. And after a long moment’s silence, Cora slumped back in the passenger seat and closed her eyes, looking a little red in the cheeks.

Her misery ate away at me.

I mean, how was I supposed to ignore that?

No.

Determination lit in my veins. This was happening.

Cora would get her happily ever after, so help me.

“Hey.” I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder. Cora squeezed her eyes shut. I shook her lightly. “Look at me.” And when she finally opened her eyes, I said four words that were likely to piss her off. “No pain, no gain.”

And she glared at me.

Called it.

“Look,” I began. “Men are fickle, okay? And sometimes, even though they might have a shiny, sparkling diamond in front of them, they don’t want it until someone else puts in a bid. So—” I reached down to the bag by her feet, lifted it, and shoved it into her lap, then grinned. “—let the bidding begin.”

Cora thought about it a moment. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, undoing her seatbelt and murmuring, “He’s gonna be pissed.”

Oh, boohoo. “So what? At least then he’ll have shown some emotion, for Christ’s sake.”

Cora’s head tilted, and a single brow rose. “Why does that lowkey make sense?”

There we go. Now, all we had to do was go inside and wait.

* * *

“See?”Cora lifted her bare foot onto a dining room seat as Davi Lobo kept his burning gaze high up on her thigh, where the white lace garter teased. Her skirt rode up, almost all the way to her hip, revealing the lower curve of her ass and the black satin panties she wore underneath. “This one is different from the black one. It’s plainer, but…” She thought about it. “I like it. I don’t know.” Davi’s eyes were trained on her bare leg, and Cora feigned innocence like a pro. “What do you think, Davi?” Her voice turned breathy. “Leather or lace?”

Immediately, the Portuguese man croaked out a heavily accented, “Two.”

“Two?” Cora’s brows lowered in confusion.

I smiled to myself. She didn’t speak fluent Davi like I did. “He means both.”

“O sim.” He twisted to look back at me, nodding. “Both.” He lifted one hand. “One good.” Then the other. “Two good.” He put his two hands together and grinned. “Both.”

Cora reached out to lovingly cup his cheek. “You do wonders for my ego, sweetheart.”

Mina’s phone chimed, and she checked the display. “He’s a few minutes away.” She leaned into me and whispered, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I didn’t, but nothing else had worked. Anything was worth a shot.

Cora took her time slipping the garter off before placing it back in the bag and lifting out a tiny scrap of material. She stood straight, then placed it over her skirt.

Davi didn’t blink, and when he realized that tiny scrap of silk was a pair of skimpy French panties, he put a hand to his forehead and groaned softly, “Querido Deus.”

“Now,” Cora said, “picture this…”

“Okay,” Davi croaked.

“…but with nothing else on.” She motioned to her torso. “Nothing else. Nada.”

I could’ve laughed at the pained expression on Davi’s gorgeous face. I probably would have if we weren’t rudely interrupted.

“The fuck?”

The blazing fury that came from the open doorway should have alarmed me. But because there was obviously something wrong with me, the satisfaction I felt energized me enough to make me feel like I could kick down a door.

Stick to the plan, girls. Stick to the plan.

Cora barely spared him a glance. “Oh, hi.”

From where I sat, I didn’t even look up from my phone. “Look, everyone. It’s Oscar the Grouch.”

“Hey, you. We just came from the mall. I thought we’d visit.” Mina smiled up at her brother lovingly, and it was the biggest form of gaslighting I’d ever seen. As though Cora being half undressed wasn’t bothering anyone. Like Alessio being furious at this scene was uncalled for. And I inwardly crowed with laughter when his fists balled and his jaw ticked once, twice, then three times.

Hell. Like a tea kettle at boiling point, he was ready to blow.

And when Cora replaced the little black panties with a bright-red pair that had a heart-shaped jewel in the center of the waistband and black ribbon dangling from the sides, she rested them over her skirt and asked Davi, “Which color do you like better?”

Davi made a sound in his throat. It was almost a cross between a laugh and cry.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alessio fight to keep himself calm. I didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared, nor the vein pop by his temple.

Glee filled me.

Yeah. It was working.

“Put ’em on,” I suggested disinterestedly. “How can he tell unless he sees them on the model?”

Alessio’s body went taut.

Cora looked up in thought, then shrugged. “Makes sense.”

And when she reached under her skirt to pull down the panties she wore, Alessio moved.

Holy shit, did he ever.

Faster than a bullet, he was across the room, scooping her up over his shoulder. Cora yelped and clung to him, gripping onto his tee and holding on for dear life, then let out an outraged, “Hey! Put me down, you asshole.”

But he didn’t get to see the way her eyes twinkled.

Her skirt flipped and skewed as she wiggled. He growled, panting out raw fury. Alessio lifted a hand and brought it down over her ass, hard. The solid smack of skin-on-skin damn near echoed through the room. The way she moaned was pure sex, and I could tell from the way Mina’s eyes widened that she was a little embarrassed by it.

When next Alessio spoke, he rumbled, “Fine. You want to play games? Come on. Let’s play.”

He was so angry that the room around us shrank from the size of it. Wrath spread from every step he took. And as he strode away with his prize, he turned his face into her butt and sunk his teeth into the curve of her ass, biting, then sucking harshly.

My eyes widened. I’d never seen Alessio so out of control, so undone or primal.

I had to admit. It was a treat.

Cora gasped loudly, her eyes rolling into the back of her head with obvious pleasure. Just as they disappeared from sight, Alessio chuckled but let out a dark and humorless, “I warned you, sugar, but you didn’t listen. And now you’re gonna learn there is nothing soft about me.”

Jesus Christ. That was hot.

Would I be a freak to admit the curious part of me kind of wanted to watch?

Our forgotten Davi looked around first to Mina, then to me. “Quê?”

I shrugged. “Sorry, bud. I guess he wanted her more.”

He rose up from his seat, still looking at the path in which Alessio had taken Cora, and when he began to walk away in the opposite direction, muttering hastily in Portuguese, looking a little miffed, I imagined he felt a little pissed at being used.

“Bye, Davi,” Mina called out contritely after him, then looked back at me with a sad frown.

“I know.” Poor guy. I’d make it up to him somehow.

After a few minutes of sitting in awkward silence, Mina quietly said, “So, do we just wait or…?” At that very moment, from behind a closed door, somewhere down the hall, Cora moaned so loudly it bordered on a scream.

Mina’s lip curled in repulsion, and it was fair. Alessio was her brother, after all.

My own brows rose, and we both stood fast. “Time to go.”

“Yep.” She spat the word out like day-old chewing tobacco.

And away we went.

* * *

Six hours later,as I sat watching the television, I heard a car pull up, and when I peeked out the window, I recognized Alessio’s black BMW M2. Cora stepped out of the car, her shoes in her hands, her purse tucked under her arm, and she exited the car without a backward glance.

It drove away, and I stood. A minute passed, and with a slight frown, I opened the door before she even knocked. She was a mess. Disheveled beyond repair. I wondered if Cora even remembered how to knock.

My brows lifted.

One look told me she’d had a day.

Her hair was out of place and knotted. Mascara flecking off onto her cheeks. The smear of her lipstick heavy around her mouth, lips pink and swollen. And she looked dazed.

She staggered inside, and my lips pulled down. She walked robotically all the way to my sofa, and when she crawled onto it slowly, lowering herself to her stomach with a sigh, she reached for a pillow and hugged it tight. Her lips were smooshed against it when all she continued to do was blink into nothingness. The anticipation made me antsy.

I stood right in front of her and waited. When she offered nothing, I prompted, “Well?”

Cora blinked hazily. Her response came out half muffled from the pillow she was now drooling on. “I can’t feel my anything.”

My brows bunched. “Is that good or…?” She grunted affirmative, and as I looked down at her sorry form, I laughed softly. “Damn, girl. Finally. Didn’t I tell you we’d get it done? You got dicked down.”

A bark of laughter left her. Still fuzzy in the eyes, she let out a bemused, “That’s the thing. He never even went there. We just”—her voice sounded faraway—“played.” She licked her lips, then twisted to frown up at me. That was when she whispered, “I’ve never been played with like that before.”

Well, hell. Now I was curious. “How?”

“Like he wanted to pleasure me so hard I’d die from it.” Her tone was reflective.

Okay. That was very specific.

I sat down on my wooden coffee table, patient and watchful, as a whole range of emotions flittered across her face. And when at long last she settled on melancholy, I wasn’t expecting what she said, slow and determined.

“I am going to make that man my husband.”

My expression stunned, I did a tiny double-take.

Pardon me, ma’am?

Cora didn’t talk marriage. It was quite literally the one thing she was happiest about when she walked out on her family, that she wouldn’t be forced into marriage, as she never wanted to be tied to anyone. She called it a death sentence. And here she was, talking about getting herself a husband.

Unbelievable. I was stunned speechless.

Somehow, this broken and scarred man had unwittingly mended the guarded and wary part of Cora’s heart.

The question was, would he allow her to repair the damaged part of his?