Craving Trix (The Aces' Sons 1)

“I don’t have class for two more hours,” she whined as I climbed off the bed and took care of the condom. I fucking hated wearing them with her, but I had to. She wasn’t ready for kids yet, and I wasn’t going to take that decision away. We had time to figure all that shit out.

“Come shower with me,” I said, throwing back the covers and pulling her out of bed.

“I don’t want to shower with you.”

Okay, maybe orgasms didn’t necessarily improve Trix’s morning mood, but they did wake her ass up.

Even though she complained the entire walk to the bathroom, she still stripped and stepped into the shower with me. She liked it when I washed her hair.

By the time we climbed back out, I had a stiffy that I knew wasn’t going to get the attention it wanted and Trix was finally wide-awake.

“Remember, we have the kids tonight,” she mumbled around her toothbrush, glancing at me in the mirror as I put toothpaste on my own brush.

“What?”

“I told you yesterday—it’s movie night. Leo, the Hawthorne kids and your sisters are coming over around dinner time and staying the night.”

“Fuck,” I grumbled, drawing out the word before stuffing my toothbrush in my mouth. “How the hell do they all fit in the apartment?”

She watched me in amusement, spitting into the sink. Damn. Her breasts swayed at the movement and my mouth started to water, making white foam drip down my chin.

“They bring sleeping bags. CeeCee usually doesn’t come, but the rest of them fit fine. Boys in the living room, girls in the spare room.”

I cleaned my teeth quickly, then spit while I rinsed my brush. “Why doesn’t CeeCee come?”

“Too cool, I guess. Remember me at seventeen?” she laughed and I scowled.

Yes, I remembered her at seventeen. That didn’t make me feel real good about what my sister might be up to.

“Alright.” I sighed. “Want me to get some pizzas?”

“That’s okay.” She shook her head as she led our way out of the bathroom. “I’ll grab some you-bake ones when I stop at the store after class. We need goodies and soda, anyway.”

A little while later, I sat on the bed pulling my boots on as I watched her get ready for school.

“Why do you have all of ’em over?” I asked. “Lotta work.”

“I like it,” she replied, her voice muffled by the hoodie she was pulling over her head. “I didn’t really have anyone but you growing up. Everyone was younger, ya know?”

I nodded. Yeah, and by the time she’d been my littlest sister’s age, I’d pretty much abandoned her. I’d been sixteen—and as much as I’d loved little Trix, I’d had other things on my mind then—like the high school chicks that wanted to take a little walk on the wild side.

“They like coming over—no parents, they can eat whatever they want, talk about whatever they want, stay up as late as they want. Plus, I like knowing what’s going on with them, and if I didn’t make the time for movie nights, I’d barely see any of them.”

“You’re cute,” I told her with a smile, pushing to my feet.

“Think so?” She tilted her head to the side as I stepped toward her and I couldn’t help but lean down and kiss the exposed skin on her neck.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Her arms wrapped around my waist and slid up the back of my shirt, tracing the bottom of the tattoo that covered my back.

“What time you get out today?” I asked, reaching up to grip her jaw lightly with my hands.

“Same as always.”

“Don’t you have finals comin’ up? Cut out early.”

She giggled, shaking her head lightly at me. “Finals means I have to work harder right now.”

“Bullshit,” I argued, making her full-on laugh.

I loved it when she laughed, and she did it a lot. After that first day when we’d fought like cats and dogs, shit had been smooth between us. We’d had dinner with my parents and hers, taken a few rides when we didn’t have shit to do, fucked on every surface in the apartment, and spent time just hanging out.

I hadn’t taken her to the club for any parties, but that was because we hadn’t fucking had any, not because I thought it would be a problem for her.

We’d still been scratching our heads and walking around with our dicks in our hands when it came to figuring out who was fucking with us. One of our informants fucking disappeared, just poof and the guy was gone. The other said he didn’t know anything, hadn’t heard anything, and tried to convince us that the info he’d given us before must have been wrong.

“Will you be here when I get home?” she asked, the dimple in her cheek deepening as she grinned.

“Meet ya at the store. Text me when you’re headed that way.”