Too Much (Hayes Brothers #1)

by I.A. Dice

did you f-f...” she sucks in a harsh breath, then blurts the rest of the sentence fast, on an exhale, “...finish the episode without me? What happened?”

“I’m not telling you. We’ll rewatch it. I need to see your face when—” I grin, letting the end of the sentence hang unspoken. “Never mind. You’ll see.”

“Have you eaten today?” I ask when she curls into a ball on the couch, dressed in a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants. “I don’t think I’ll stomach food.”

“But I can make you a wrap or pasta if—” “I’m seriously considering duct-taping you to that couch. You’re not moving your pretty ass all day, understood? I’ll order takeout later unless you’re hungry now.” “No, I’m okay.” She scoots closer, kissing my cheek. “Thank you.”

“I’m sleepy.” “Sleep, omorfiá,”

Me: What did you tell Mom? Logan: Nada. Shawn: Nothing. Nico: To call and ask you.

Me: Yeah, right. She’s here. Brought soup for Thalia and acts like she’s about to book the church.

😂😂😂

Shawn: Yeah... good luck, bro. Nico: I’m out. Logan: Ha-ha-ha.

Ask how much you owe me for the pizza, and I’ll cover your pretty face with a pillow while you sleep and watch you take your last breath.”

I’m not in bed. And I’m not alone. I’m on the couch, wrapped in Theo’s arms under a soft blanket, my head pressed into the crook of his neck. The rhythm of my heart becomes irregular in an instant. Endorphins mix with a sense of fluffiness in my chest sprinkled with just a little feral lust. Fine, a lot of lust.

“Ozark.” Although... if that was the case, wouldn’t the TV still be on?

My knee is bent, my leg sprawled across his thighs, and I’m holding onto his t-shirt as if I unconsciously refused to let him move away.

“Don’t even think about getting out of here,” he says, his voice gruff. “Get back to sleep.” “I’m trying, but I need to pee.” With a deep groan, he lifts his arm and kicks the blanket aside. “Make it quick.”

Theo’s still in the same position when I crawl back beside him three minutes later, but I don’t get to hide my face in his neck again. He flips me over, forcing my back to his chest, one hand under my head, the other around my middle. “Sleep, omorfiá.”

We’re in the most compromising position imaginable. The pressure of his morning erection against my thigh has my body igniting with arousal. I’m instantly ready, panties wet, nipples hard. He’s not trying to hide it, doesn’t readjust his body to disguise how hard he is.

The atmosphere turns heavy, roaring with sexual innuendo intense enough to vaporize diamonds. His heart thumps faster against his ribs that press into my chest, and my heart accepts the challenge, matching the rhythm. My every breath turns shallow, short, and strained. God, I want him so much I can taste my own desire.

He looks like he’s under a spell, mesmerized by the feel of my skin under his fingertips. Dumbstruck, when his eyes meet mine, pupils blown. Any moment now. He’ll kiss me.

“You’re so beautiful, little one,” he whispers, eyes feasting on my face. My boobs vibrate. Literally.

“You look...” His chest rises and falls faster, and a muscle feathers his jaw when his eyes jerk to meet mine. “You want me to kill someone tonight?”

“Damn right it’s a compliment. You look hot.”

“You smell so nice,” I huff, inhaling the air around him. “You always say that.”

“Because you always smell nice. And you look rather handsome too. Are we supposed to write the truth now or when we get to Nico’s? What kinds of truths are we talking about here?”

“I know the difference,” he dictates casually, “between hard and fast.”

think hard and fast should be in capitals,”

“Do you know the difference between don’t stop and keep going?” His darkening eyes, brimming with warmth, spell out mischief. God, it’s good to know I’m getting to him. “Keep going is an encouragement for the guy who can’t find the right spot. Don’t stop is praise for the guy who knows exactly where that spot is.”

He runs his hand down my side, stopping on my hip. “Do you know the difference between hold it and hold on?” “Hold it is an order.” I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. “Hold on is a promise.”

“How about, this dress is too tight for panties.” His eyes snap to me, popping wide as he grinds his teeth, his breaths sawing in and out. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He grips my hip, fingers digging into the thin fabric. He’s probably feeling for the outline of my underwear that isn’t there. “You’re not lying.” “Why would I lie?” “I’m not writing that. You’ll be eye-fucked all evening, and I’ll definitely kill someone. Many someones. All two hundred of them. Pick a different truth and put on a pair of fucking panties.” “I can’t... it’s too tight.”

“Stop teasing, Thalia. It’s enough I have to deal with you dressed like this,”

“Don’t push me. There’s a fine line I don’t want to cross. Pick a different truth.”

“Write I spent a month in jail.” “What?” he mouths, frowning. “Why? When?” “Almost two years ago. I couldn’t afford bail.” “So... you were waiting for trial?” His eyes search my face. “What were you accused of?”

wonder what his reaction would be if I told him the truth... murder.

No one asked if I killed him. Everyone assumed I did, yet no one asked why. Their mind was made up: guilty.

“Just write it down, and let’s go. We’re going to be late.” He holds the marker harder, jaw muscle ticking. “Are you sure you want me to write that?” “Yes. I’ll tell you about it one day, but not tonight, okay?” The wounds are fresh; I don’t think they’ll ever heal. “I’m not ready.” Not ready to lose you.

temple. “When you’re ready, I’ll listen.”

You might need to use your safe word tonight.

“Please... pretty please! I can see the way you look at him, girl. You want him!”

“Can you blame me? You’ve seen him. You know him.”

ribs. “I knew it!” He claps, gesturing for the bartender to come over. “So, what’s the game plan? Theo’s a hard cookie to crack. They all are, but I think he’s into you too, you know? He watches you like a hawk.”

“That’s because he knows this dress is too tight for panties.”

“You little tease!”

“Wrong guy, sweetheart. Find one who’s interested.”

“What? Am I not pretty enough for you, Mr. Hayes?”

“You’re not sober enough for me,” I shoot back, scanning the crowd again, searching for Thalia. My hands clench into fists when I spot her chatting to Dean. She glares straight at me, then moves her eyes to the brunette beside me, her features pinched.

“Did you hear me?” The girl clinging to my arm reaches for my beer, purposely brushing her fingers along my chest. “I’ll suck you off real good, and I won’t try to call you.” “Beat it,”

“There you are.” I lean over the back, pressing my lips to the crown of Thalia’s head. She tenses, her head whipping around so fast I swear I heard a crack. I play it down, even though the slight rise of her eyebrow puts a self-indulgent smirk on my face. “It’s our turn to play pong.”

“What are you doing with him?” I ask when we’re out of his earshot.

“You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.” I can’t help the arrogant, desolate satisfaction spreading in my bones at the irritated tone of her voice. She’s jealous. Good. So am I. So fucking jealous I want to nail Dean for good measure.

“I wasn’t busy. I could’ve used saving from Jasmine. She’s Nico’s assistant, and she’s pretty determined to manage my money.” I point...

didn’t, but you might want to tell your buddy to back the fuck away from Thalia.”

“You like her, don’t you?” “Don’t be stupid. I told you we’re friends. I’m looking out for her. We both know Adrian just wants to fuck her, and she’s better than that.”