Elect

Chapter Nine Nixon

I slammed the car door and jogged inside the house. Pino, one of our men, was waiting outside the door.

“Any action tonight?” I asked.

Pino laughed. “No sir, not if you count several of the men begging the young ladies to turn off the Godfather action.”

“The Godfather?” I repeated. “I thought they were watching chick flicks.”

Pino sighed. “Yes well, Trace and Monroe thought it would entertain us more to watch a movie about our lives.”

I chuckled. “Our lives?”

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to figure out if I like the idea of Marlon Brando playing me.” I patted him on the back. “Make a call to Uncle Tony, would ya? We have some business to take care of tomorrow night and I’ll need his help.”

“Right away sir.” Pino pulled out his phone and opened the door for me.

I stepped inside was immediately hit with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. Without thinking I walked into the kitchen, eager for food. With all the stress of the evening I’d forgotten to eat.

Trace had on one of my ma’s old aprons. TI’s newest song was playing from her iPhone; she was singing super loud and off-key as she spooned up cookie dough and placed it on the sheet.

“Tasty.” I winked.

Blushing, she stopped dancing.

“Nope, you have to pretend like I’m not here. Go ahead, shake your ass. I’m sure somewhere on that little bucket list of yours is singing off-key in the kitchen while your boyfriend watches. Only, my bucket list includes you in nothing but the apron; but hey, I’m not picky.”

“Very funny.” Trace turned up the music and twirled around then walked up to me and pulled me into her arms. “I was worried for you.”

“Don’t worry.” I kissed her mouth. She tasted like chocolate chips and suddenly I forgot about everything—about Luca, Chase. It was only Tracey and the faint taste of chocolate chip cookies on her tongue.

Without breaking our kiss I lifted her into my arms and walked down the hall. My father had been a paranoid freak, so all the bedrooms were on the first level in case of a need for an easy escape.

I kicked open my bedroom door and slammed it closed behind me. If this was our last night for a while, I wanted to savor it; I wanted to savor her.

Trace moaned into my mouth as I continued to suck the chocolate from her tongue. Damn, I would miss her taste.

She pulled back and took off the apron, then wrapped her arms around my neck and attacked me—really, there was no other word for it.

Hot. That was the first word that came to mind when Trace’s lips pressed against mine. Urgent, that would be the second word as her tongue ran along my lower lip, causing me to curse aloud—just before I jerked her against my body and slammed her against the bedroom door. And then—nothing. Words left me. It was an out-of-body experience kissing Trace. It scared the hell out of me, that one touch could devastate not only my body but my soul—it scared me to my core and I hated that in her arms I was unable to show strength, only total weakness.

Maybe that was the third word. Weakness. When I lifted her into my arms and felt her body pressed tightly against mine—when her soft moans drove me insane, causing my hands to tug her shirt from her body—I realized one thing.

Weakness meant death, especially now.

And it was only a matter of time before they discovered mine… only a matter of time before everyone found out that she wasn’t Chase’s, but mine. Time was of the essence and I only had a limited amount of it.

Desperation, the final word that echoed into my conscience as I urged her to wrap her legs around my waist and promised myself I would protect her at all costs, even if it meant my own life. I’d already lost my heart. Losing my life? I pulled back and looked into her big brown eyes. Hell yeah, it would be worth it.

“Nixon?” Trace’s breath tickled the side of my neck as she leaned in to rest her head against my chest.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

Sighing, I kissed her soft cheek. “I’d rather show you…”

A knock sounded at the door. With a curse, I dropped Trace onto the bed and stomped over to the door. Who the hell had the nerve to interrupt me?

I pulled it open. A grinning Chase stood on the other side. My idiot cousin knew better than to barge in when I was alone with Trace and he sure as hell knew I was alone with her. Hadn’t we decided that I needed to have tonight with her? He was going to get her for months! I wanted one night.

“What?” I groaned. “What could you possibly need?”

Chase sidestepped me. “Good question.” He cleared his throat. “I have an answer for that.”

“I’m listening.” I clenched my fist and watched as Trace leaned in toward Chase, her thigh almost touching his. I was going to totally lose my shit if any part of her body touched his. Holy crap, it was going to be a very long fall semester.

I needed a damn sedative. Shit; now I was taking Tex’s advice? Something was very wrong with that picture.

“Mo is totally sneaking in Tex every single night!”

I rolled my eyes. “That was the news? That she’s been sneaking in her boyfriend every night? She’s an adult. She can—” The wheels turned faster in my head. What the hell, that was my twin sister!

“Wait for it,” Chase whispered.

Trace laughed.

“Wait for it some more.”

I cursed, but there was no use. Images of my twin sister with one of the Elect—my friend and business partner—coursed through my head. Was he touching her? Oh God, was she naked? Did they… “I’ll kill him with my bare hands!”

“Ah, there it is.” Chase clapped loudly. “Well done. You controlled your anger a whole second longer than last time.”

“Last time?” Trace asked.

“When he found out you and I—”

I held up my hand. I seriously did NOT need Chase to repeat to me that he and Trace had shared a bed several times when he was assigned to protect her.

Trace frowned. “When we what?”

Chase shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What; you could tell me but you’d have to kill me?”

“No.” Chase chuckled. “I could tell you but then he’d have to kill me.”

“Solid point.” Trace sighed and leaned back on the bed. “So what are you going to do, Nixon? Run into her bedroom guns blazing and shoot at Tex’s feet like Grandpa did to you?”

“Best day ever,” Chase sang.

“Why are you here again?” I asked.

“Mo. Tex. Sweaty, earth-shattering—”

I didn’t let him finish. Instead I ran out of the room in search of Mo and Tex.