Page 36

ANTISOCIAL

VANESSA

“ C ome on, wifey. I need more of that,” Santino mumbled. Cupping her soaked pussy, he was still breathing heavily but his cock was already stirring.

They’d all but run out of that party the night before to get back to the hotel as fast as possible.

They’d stripped and fucked until they’d fallen asleep boneless with the room smelling of sex.

She didn’t care and neither did he, but when they finally rolled out of bed to take their morning shower they’d landed right back in bed afterward.

Then on the couch. The little table in the entryway.

And finally, bed again, where they’d just finished their latest session.

“No, I’m done, I’m done,” she groaned with a laugh. Then when he stroked over her clit with his calloused thumb, she relented with a soft sigh. “Oh, okay. If you insist…”

Just as she was rolling on top of him, kissing and nipping at his neck while he laughed, her phone pinged.

“That better not be who I think it is,” Santino said with a growl, grasping her ass with both hands and squeezing hard, forcing her up and down his length.

Vanessa murmured with delight, sliding her pussy against his rapidly growing cock. “I don’t want to know either way.”

Santino cupped the back of her head to bring their faces together for a kiss, then grinned up at her.

Now it wasn’t just her ass getting squeezed, it was her heart, at the way he was looking at her.

She didn’t think she’d ever get over how beautiful he was, how beautiful she felt under his gaze or how much she lov—

Not that. Not love. Not again.

She had to remind herself that this was a deal, an arrangement, a this for that. And maybe the excellent dick was the icing on the cake for her as well as him, something she had to do to get any lingering lust for him out of her system once and for all.

But if she were going to put some poetry on this thing, she’d regard it as a bubble, shining clear with hints of pink and purple and blue on its surface.

This was the cumulative effect of beautiful weather, soul-nourishing music, and time away from the usual thankless grind without the responsibilities of everyday life.

In Montreal, there were no experiences tied to memories, no critical outside voices telling them who they were or what they should have or want.

Here, they were free to be different people. Better people.

She understood this bubble of perfection would pop when it rubbed up against reality. But in the meantime, she was more than content to exist within the iridescent little sphere with him.

The phone pinged to notify her of a second incoming message.

Santino’s big fingers teased at the disarray of her long, tangled struggle-curls as she snatched up her phone to read the texts with an exhale of annoyance.

With relief, she saw they weren’t from Scott.

The last thing she needed was another verbal confrontation, especially at this moment.

It was from Bobby. That only made her marginally relieved.

First message: “ Hey, sis.”

Second message, showing a hint of impatience in its enthusiasm: “Wake up! We’re in town ! Let’s get this party started…. right? ”

Damn. Seems like good old reality had come to them. Time to face the music and reveal what she’d been up to these few days in Montreal “on her own.”

“Bobby and them?” Santino asked with an eyebrow raise.

“Yup, Bobby and them,” she confirmed with slumping shoulders. “Ugh. Do I have to answer it?”

“We could just pretend we’re not here…stay in, get room service. Just eat, fuck and take naps all day.”

Vanessa let him pull her down for another long, slow, delicious kiss. “That actually sounds amazing.” Another ping. “But Dr. Watson is relentless.”

Santino’s laughter rumbled through her from head to toe. She absorbed the sensation, cherishing it and how it felt being wrapped in those strong arms again. The itinerary he’d suggested was all too tempting, but she had to respond to her brother.

“Okay. How about you tell him we’ll meet up after lunch at least?”

“That’ll work.” Vanessa raised her finger to her lips, indicating Santino should remain quiet while she called Bobby rather than text back and forth.

Her brother answered right away. “Yo, yo! What are you doing, where are you?”

“I’m just getting up,” she fibbed, blowing a silent kiss at Santino. He pretended the kiss had been a slap, whipping his head on the pillow dramatically and cradling his face with his palm.

“Just getting up? What, no crazy workout routine or meditating or working on a brief for a case?” Bobby asked with mock surprise coating his baritone voice.

“Oh, I worked out. Pretty hard,” Vanessa replied. Her entire body was sore from the last two days of their exertions, which was absolutely true.

“Damn, Montreal is magical if it can get you to relax.”

Santino seemed unable to help the laugh that slipped from his lips. She glared at him, hoping Bobby hadn’t overheard.

Bobby lowered his already deep voice, probably so Zoe wouldn’t overhear. “Who was that? I thought you said that guy canceled on you? You better not be in there with some French-speaking stray you found up here. You know Lady Marmalade would not approve.”

That was their secret sibling code name for their mother.

Yes, it was extremely rude but as she’d once explained to Santino, her very proper mother used to sing the Labelle song at the top of her lungs when doing housework, oblivious to the true meaning of the lyrics.

It seemed hilarious that she’d sing a song like that with such gusto, and it was even more hilarious when their father had finally showed her the translation after they’d argued over it.

She’d been so furious, she’d left the room and slammed her bedroom door.

That had been one of her last memories of their father before the accident and one of the funniest.

Even now, the nickname and the memory made Vanessa laugh. “Lady Marmalade disapproves of much of my life, so I might as well have fun with my debauchery.”

“Debauchery, huh? Okay, you’ve definitely got a French-speaking dude in there. Tell him I said to keep his hands off my sister and get the hell out of there.”

“Excuse you? Let’s not forget who’s the eldest here. Put some respect on my name.” She winked at Santino, who gave her a thumbs-up.

“You are old as hell. Anyway, we’re in our room at the Four Seasons.” Bobby made a sound of annoyance at something Zoe was saying to him. “Wish you could have gotten another room here. Where are you staying? We’ll come pick you up for brunch if you’re far out.”

“I already have plans,” she said quickly. “And I actually got a room at L’Hotel Li. It’s on the Rue de la Montagne, too. We’re kinda neighbors.”

Bobby whistled. “Fancy, fancy. How did you manage a room at that place? Not that you can’t afford it, but…”

Her face flamed. “I saved my pennies like a good girl, just like Lady Marmalade taught me. My friend got me a hook-up.” She crossed her eyes at Santino, who was jabbing his chest with his thumb and taking silent credit for the fabulous suite.

“Alright. Let’s plan to meet up around four. We can go take in some sights and then have dinner before the Panthro show. Remember Brooklyn last year?”

Fondly, she grinned. “I did. Best night I’d had in a while. Alright, I’ll check in later.”

“It’s gonna be a great night. See you soon, Fivehead.”

She hung up, put the phone on her nightstand, and stretched out on top of Santino, straddling him as he pushed his hands into her hair. “Okay, where were we?”

A few hours later, at just about four-fifteen, she and Santino were approaching the entrance of the Four Seasons.

For once, Santino wasn’t urging her to rush to make sure they were on time.

She couldn’t blame him. Although he was showered, smelled good and looked fly in his long-sleeved white cotton button down shirt, thick silver chain and white slacks, and had even traded in his Tims for a pair of deck shoes, nervousness was wafting off him stronger than his cologne.

The reasons why were many and went without saying.

She was wearing a matching color scheme in a white halter dress that flared at the waist, contrasting beautifully with her deep complexion and understated silver jewelry. When Santino had seen her in it, the look of appreciation and fresh desire in his eyes was everything.

“See? I told you I had something nice planned,” she’d said, flushing hot under that gaze.

“You were right. You’re stunning , tesoro .”

Although she’d never been an attention-seeker, she did enjoy the admiring or at least curious looks they received from other people as they passed. They did look good together, felt good together.

And it seemed they shared the same nervous energy.

She braced herself when she saw her dapper brother and his equally well-dressed wife exit through the hotel door.

Bobby sported a fitted chocolate short-sleeved button-down and dark jeans on his tall, lean-muscled frame, his even deeper mahogany skin gleaming and his short hair brushed down in waves.

Well-trimmed facial hair completed the look.

Vanessa had to hand it to him; her brother was a handsome man who knew he looked good while somehow not being conceited in the slightest. His air of confidence was natural, not a deep fake. She both admired and deeply envied that easy balance.