Reid
"You guys need to shut the fuck up."
There was silence for about three seconds before the two idiots kept on talking."
"I can't believe she's actually coming! And all on her own! Our baby sister is all grown up."
"No, she isn't! She's still like 12! I can't believe Mum and Dad let her come here alone."
"She's 22 Edo."
"So? 12, 22, same dif. She could still die."
It took all that was in me not to pull out my gun and shoot the fuckers.
They've been talking about Laura for almost an hour now and it's starting to get on my nerves.
I may not fully understand the joy of reuniting with your sibling but still. for fucks sake, can they shut up for a second or at least stop talking about her like she's five.
I lean my head back against the leather couch, deciding to block their stupid voices out since they obviously won't shut up.
What even inspired me to agree to this? I can barely tolerate one of them in my house talk less of the two and now a sister.
I'm not that worried about Laura though. From what I remember, she's quiet. But then again, that was twelve years ago, anyone can change during that time.
"We have to hide all the alcohol just in case she thinks it's some kind of sparkly water," Edo said, looking around the living room as though I'd hide alcohol inside the fucking T.V
I sigh, and rake my hand through my dark brown, slightly overgrown, hair, wishing that murder wasn't such a big crime.
Pulling a cigarette out of my pocket, I'm about to light it up before a pillow flies across the room, hitting my face and successfully causing me to lose my hold on the bud, throwing it to the floor.
I glare at Edo and he glares right back at me.
"Don't smoke that shit here! The toxins could kill her!" Edo says, striding towards me and picking it up before quickly scurrying away, fast enough to dodge my foot from going up his ass.
"Edo, you're treating her like a child. She's 22." Marc says, rolling his eyes at his brother.
Edo scoffs at him, staring back at him like he's looking at a madman. "So the fuck what? Even a thirty-year-old can die of cancer, you idiot."
Realization seems to dawn on Marc and he turns to glare at me. "What the fuck man?"
I look at the two of them, trying to remember how they became my so-called best friends in the first place. Then I realize I can't remember and they're starting to piss me off to the point that I don't give a fuck anymore.
"Get the hell out of my house," I say as calmly as possible.
They both pause, their glares faltering as they stare at me.
Then Marc begins the plea he's been saying for the past hour every time I tell them to get out.
"Come on man. She's our little sister. You remember how sensitive she is. We can't take risks this time and your crib is like the safest place in the whole city. You know how she is."
I roll my eyes. At least he didn't add the 'you're our best friend and you know we'd do the same for you.' trick.
They both know I can't kick them out even if I really wanted to and given it was another situation they would have just rolled their eyes at my command and continued bickering.
But this was Laura.
And for all the years I've known Edoardo and Marcello, she was the one they never joked around about.
I couldn't blame them though.
Shooting them one last glare, I stand up from the couch and walk towards my office, giving them a final warning.
"If any of you disturbs me you're getting shot."
I close the door behind me, thanking God that the walls are soundproof.
Sitting down by my large mahogany desk, I scan through my emails, looking for any important thing that can keep my mind away from the incoming guest.
One from my mum. I delete it without opening it.
One from Samantha. I don't have to open it before knowing what it says and I'm not in the mood to drive away thirsty sluts who won't take no for an answer. I swear one more message from her and I'm filing a restraining order and suing for assault.
One from Philip. I'm starting to question my life and why I have so many negative people around me.
Then I remember I'm in the world of business where everyone is trying to take money from you.
I open the one from Philip and just as I guessed it, he's trying to pitch me another insurance scam. The only reason I haven't fired him yet is because he's in the advertising department and is good at what he does. The guy can sell a unicycle to a handicapped person.
The last one is from Edo and I'm not sure whether or not I should open it, afraid it would be one of his eulogies trying to convince me that I'm gay.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I realize it's not one of his eulogies. It's worse than that. It's work.
I sigh and wear my reading glasses, racking my hands through my hair and picking up a pen and some documents, giving them my full attention.
* * *
My eyes are sore, my throat is dry and when I checked the time I'm not surprised why.
10: 53pm.
I've been working for hours. I thought I was going to be done with the documents Edo sent me in two hours top. And I was. Just to find out that there was a part a, b, and c.
I'm in-between wanting to strangle him for sending me so much information in such a short time, and wanting to give him a raise for helping me earn half a billion dollars.
I'm tired as fuck. Everywhere is dark and quiet and I just want to go to bed and sleep till Christmas day.
Standing up, I removemy glasses and place them back in their case, I stretch out my joints, hearing the pop and lock from hours of sitting down. I slowly open the door, praying that there isn't anyone outside and I'm happily met by darkness.
I'm glad I missed the reunion. I'm not exactly sure how I'd react seeing her.
My brain is too heavy with sleep to stress it out thinking of what-ifs and I'm thirsty.
I walk into the kitchen, switch on the lights, and get a bottle of water from the fridge.
I'm twisting the cap, and just about to open it, when a voice causes me to freeze on the spot.
"Reid?"
I can identify that voice in my sleep.
Smooth, soft, silky, sweet, and tempting.
I turn around and my eyes lock with a pair of diamond ones.
If I thought I was thirsty before... my throat is the fucking Sahara now.
Laura Catalino.
Big blue doe eyes, sparkling with an innocence that never left, her plump pink lips parted in a tempting o, black tendrils escaping the messy bun on her head and silkily framing her face, her lovely face.
To add to my torment, she's grown. She's grown grown. And my eyes shamelessly travel down her body. Tracing every curve.
The nighty shorts she's wearing doesn't do any good to hide her legs. Long and tan. And those thighs. Those fucking thighs. Looking as juicy as ever, thick, and curvy. The perfect cushions to lay between as I eat my breakfast, lunch, brunch, and dinner.
She hasn't even touched me and my cock already stirs.
She's wearing cotton and I can see her nipples poke erect from the fabric, perky and cute. My thumb itches with the thought of them, rubbing and swirling, sucking and drowning in her moans and withers.
Fucking beautiful.
"Laura." My voice comes out huskier than normal and I clear my throat, trying to pull myself away from the sudden sexual haze.
She blushes, beet red, and a grin thugs on my lips. At least I'm not the only one affected. I wonder where else that blush goes.
"Hi." She says, taking a step forward.
I want to scream at her to get away from me. Move back before I shove her against the counter and quench my thirst.
But the reasonable part of my brain never wins when it comes to her. I take a step forward.
"Hi"
The air is awkward, tense, hot, and so damn thick you could cut it.
I don't know what to say from here. She's always been the one to start a conversation and keep it going but now she's all shy. Shier than I remember. And blushing like a tomato. A very cute and sexy tomato.
God, I'm horny. She hasn't even been here for up to a day and I'm already sexualizing a fucking tomato.
"How was your flight?" I ask and feel like an idiot right after. How was your flight? You didn't even say welcome back. You're a fucking moron you know that?
She smiles, revealing a deep dimple and I almost melt into a puddle at the cuteness of it.
"It was fine. I saw a bird." She says, her soft voice coming out just above a whisper.
I chuckle. Of course, she saw a bird. She's Laura. She's adorable.
"Oh yeah? What else did you see?"
A grin thugs my lips as I watch her blush once more, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Some houses and mountains. I felt like God."
I can hear the excitement in her voice just saying it and the grin officially spreads on my lips. My tense shoulders relax and I lean against the counter.
Apart from her body, she hasn't changed much. Still, the cute little angel I know.
The only difference now is that when we were younger I wanted to hold her hand and peck her lips.
Now I want to hold her hand, peck her lips and still fuck her.
Oh the growth.
She fidgets under my gaze, as though reading my mind, and a smirk makes its way to my lips.
"What are you doing awake?" She asks, deciding to break the silence.
I quirk an eyebrow at her, humor coating my features. Look whose asking?
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"
Pink coats her cheeks and it's starting to become my favorite color. Maybe I am gay.
I look at the sizzling hot woman in front of me and my dick says otherwise.
"I had a nightmare and I want ice cream." She says, shrugging as if it's a normal thing.
My jaw clenches and I frown. I hate that it is.
Sighing, I point over to the fridge. "There's vanilla. "
A toothy smile instantly lights up her face, dimples and all, and just the sight of it lifts up my mood.
God this girl.
"Really?" She asks, practically, hopping on the spot.
I chuckle, leaning back, and watch her excitement blossom. "Really. Knock yourself out."
She lets out a small squeal and scurries towards the fridge.
I mentally pat my own back.
I DID NOT buy vanilla ice cream yesterday because I knew she was coming and that every time she has a nightmare she wakes up to get some ice cream. No, I didn't. And my self-conscience has nothing against me.
I watched, utterly amused as she scans the fridge, eagerly looking for the tub of ice cream before her gaze finally catches it and she lets out another adorable squeal.
She's a little shawty and even when she stretches up she can't reach the top.
So she tiptoes.
And my eyes shamelessly fall to her ass.
Why do I torture myself?
The more she tiptoes the more her shorts and shirt rise up, exposing more flesh and fueling my imaginative drive.
I could write odes on that ass. Lovely sonnets about all the things I would do. And then I'd recite them to her as I fuck her from behind.
How poetic.
Deciding to save myself from the torment, I walk over to her.
She instantly freezes as she feels my presence behind her.
I lean forward, my breath fanning against her neck and I watch as a sensual shudder passes through her, causing her body to slightly sway.
My hand moves before my brain does and holds unto her waist, steadying her.
The heat that instantly shoots up my entire body at the contact, like zaps of electricity, fogs up my mind and I draw her closer, close enough to draw teasing circles round her skin and gain another shudder from her.
Her eyes drift close and she unconsciously tilts her head back, lips part in that beautiful o, and small shaky breaths leaving them.
I dip my head closer to her neck, helplessly inhaling her honey and rose smell.
Fuck me.
I don't know if I want to bury my nose into her neck and lavish in the fragrance, or completely eat her up, ravishing every bit of her.
I want to smell her all over me.
My hold on her waist tightens and I lean in closer, dipping my head further into her neck and closing my eyes, inhaling once more.
Her smell is like a drug. Sweet, toxic, and addictive doses of dopamine going straight to my veins.
I have to suppress a groan when I feel her lean into me, her back brushing up on me as she lets out a breathy sigh.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I need to clear my thoughts for fucks sake. This is little Laura.
The thought is enough for me to pull back and I let go of her, before reaching out to grab the ice cream.
I step back and the loss of contact sends a cold shiver through me.
"Thank you." Her words come out breathy and dazed like she's been running a marathon. I'm glad I'm not the only one being affected.
I nod at her, not trusting my voice to come out the way it's meant to, and scared that I might just blurt out how much I want her right now.
She sits down on one of the island chairs and waits for me. I can feel her gaze burning my back as she watches me dish out the ice cream into a bowl.
I turn around just in time to catch her ogling me and a smirk fills my lips as when she quickly averts her eyes, blushing.
She takes the bowl from me, muttering another thank you, and is about to start her feast before suddenly pausing and looking up at me, guilt in her large doe eyes.
"I'm sorry. Do you want some?" She says, a cute little seductive pout on her plump lips as she lifts the bowl towards me.
Oh, baby, you have no idea.
I settle for a no instead.
I don't know what to do with myself right now. I don't want to leave her. But I don't want to stand and stare at her like some creep.
I shrug and lean against the wall opposite her. She'll eventually find out I'm a creep one day so why not.
I watch her slowly take her ice cream, and it's the most harmless thing in the world. But it's Laura doing it and my brain is malfunctioning with each spoon that dips in her mouth.
I watch as her cheeks burn up and I know she knows I'm watching her. I can't help it.
Then she looks up at me. And her eyes lock with mine. Deeper, darker, and lust swimming in the blue pool of innocence.
She lifts up another spoon of ice cream, the whole thing done in a torturing slow motion, and places the cream in her mouth, her tongue poking out to lick around it before her lips slowly close on it, sensually pulling the spoon out. Clean.
Her eyes never leave mine.
I feel my gaze darken and my fist clenches, trying to hold on to the strands of self-control I have left.
And as if to torture me further, drops of ice cream still stain her bottom lip. White and milky.
That's more than my brain can handle.
I find myself walking towards her, slow and taunting steps, eyes still glued on her, drinking every part of her up,
I reach were she's sitting and cage her between me and the counter, my hands gripping the counter like my life depends on it.
My gaze drifts from her eyes to her lips. Lips that are now parted, breathing in ragged breaths. Lips that are still stained with white cream. Lips that are begging me to claim.
Leaning closer, I feel her breath on me. Hot, frantic, and needy. And I haven't even touched her yet.
I use my thumb to graze her bottom lip and I almost moan at the contact.
It's so soft and plump, pink and swollen, begging, panting, moist with want.
I gently clean the ice cream off her lip, taking my time to massage it, letting my touch linger for a little while longer.
I finally meet her eyes. Her gaze glistened with lust and need.
"Open," I whisper the command, my eyes never leaving hers.
Her lips part open on instinct. I slowly insert my thumb into her mouth, and like the good girl she is, she closes her lips around it. And sucks.
The sensation goes straight to my dick, like a torturing pinch, heat travels over my entire body, buzzing my members awake.
A low growl leaves my lips as her teeth grazes my thumb, her eyes still fixed on mine and tongue sensually circling round its tip.
Fuck me.
My gaze is hooded over by now and my other hand instinctively goes up to hold her neck, giving it a little squeeze. Her head tilts backward and her eyes instantly close, lips parting but no sound leaving them.
That isn't good enough for me darling.
I lean closer and squeeze again. Her back arches up this time, and the softest moan I've ever heard in my entire life leaves her lips.
I gently pull my finger out of her mouth and the quiet whine that leaves her lips travels straight to my groin.
Fuck. This girl is going to be the death of me.
Her eyes finally open back up and her gaze locks with mine once more. Hunger, thirst, and innocent curiosity.
Fucking beautiful.
I'm staring at her, and she's staring right back at me and I know that right this moment, with the way she's looking at me, her eyes begging, that if I don't leave right now, I'll end up fucking her on top of the counter till the only vocabulary she has in her dictionary is my name and please.
I let go of my hold on her and I can see the absence of skin-to-skin touch does the same thing to her as it does to me.
I leave feathery traces along her jaw before reaching her chin and tipping her head back so her gaze can meet mine.
It takes all the willpower in me to say this.
"Good night Laura."
- - -
A/N
Chapter 2!!
Say hello to Reid!!
So what do you think??
How is Reid??
Spicy enough??
Don't be scared to comment and vote!!
Thank you so much for reading!!
Love you bunnies. Stay sexy and happy!! 😘
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