Levi points a finger at me. “You’re spending the night at my place next time, Uncle. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“You, too, Aurora. Please come over,” Astrid tells her.
“We would love to,” Aurora says.
No, I wouldn’t love to. The only reason I spent the night at Aiden’s was because she was there.
Ironically enough, that’ll be how she’ll make me spend the night at Levi’s. Not sure if she’s doing it on purpose, but the smallest ways she’s affecting my life are starting to have a much larger impact.
It’s like she came into this family with a purpose and won’t stop until she achieves it.
After dinner, Aiden and Levi insist on making me watch their chess game. They won’t quit until one of them is considered the winner this night. Winning is in their blood, and I’m proud of the way they grew up — mishaps and all.
I sit across from them on a chair in the lounge area. Each of them occupies a sofa, with the glass chess board between them. I’m vaguely focused on their moves. While neither of them wins against me, their games are sporadic. Usually, the less distracted one beats the other.
A glass of cognac is cradled between my fingers, but I haven’t been drinking. My focus is on the woman who’s standing over the table in the other part of the lounge area. Her dark green dress clings to her slim figure and that arse I spanked right before dinner. It’s part of the reason why she’s currently standing, not sitting.
It was due to her attitude after an email exchange.
From: Jonathan King
To: Aurora Harper
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Refer to subject.
From: Aurora Harper
To: Jonathan King
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
No.
From: Jonathan King
To: Aurora Harper
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Don’t fucking push me, Aurora. That red lipstick is meant for me and me alone. No one else is allowed to see it, not even my son and nephew.
From: Aurora Harper
To: Jonathan King
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Oops.
Attached is a picture of herself. She wasn’t only wearing the red lipstick, but she was also biting her lower lip while wearing a revealing dress that showed so much of her cleavage, she nearly flashed me her nipples.
One, I became as hard as a rock.
Two, I planned the murder of every last bastard who could see her like that.
Could, because there was no way in fuck she’d go out like that in front of anyone.
From: Jonathan King
To: Aurora Harper
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Change your clothes and remove the lipstick. Now.
From: Aurora Harper
To: Jonathan King
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Or what?
From: Jonathan King
To: Aurora Harper
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
Or that arse will turn red. If you’re in the mood to sit at all tonight, change.
From: Aurora Harper
To: Jonathan King
Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.
I guess you have to come home and make me.
I went home and did just that. Then I grabbed her by the throat and fucked her against the wall, smearing the lipstick all over her face until she screamed my name.
I haven’t missed the way she calls my house a home now, either. For someone who never actually belonged anywhere, it’s a huge deal that she’s picking my place as her home.
Maybe she meant what she told me once — the part about not running away anymore. But for some reason, I can’t seem to fully trust that promise.
She’s currently talking to Elsa and Astrid. While their conversation is far enough away to not disrupt the boys’ game, I can almost hear Aurora talk about her next design.
She’s been focused on that lately, working from home until late and even inviting Black Belt over. She said her peculiar behaviour is one of her inspirations. Sometimes, I catch her observing my wrist or measuring my watches as if planning for something.
From the outside looking in, it appears as if she’s moving on from the attack, Maxim’s reappearance, and everything that transpired afterwards.
But it’s too soon. The possibility that she’s bottling something — or everything — inside is what’s keeping me on the edge. That’s never a good sign and will eventually backfire.
“Your obsession is showing, Jonathan.” Aiden focuses on me for a second, smirks, then slides his attention back to the board.
“Can you blame him?” Levi waggles his brows. “What’s up with