The Assassin's Temptation: The Confradia Assassins II

Chapter 2: All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love — Leo Tolstoy Sophia

Sophia

Darren slams the front door hard and throws our bags carelessly on the shiny wooden floors. “Be careful with those bags, Darren. Chelsea will kill me if you scratch the floor.” Darren chuckles and kicks the bag with irreverent disregard. “It’s a stupid bag. The floors will be fine.” Gritting my teeth, I squat down and gently place the bag against the wall. “Cut the crap, Darren, before I regret bringing you home with me.” Darren shakes his shaggy hair and moves past the foyer to enter the living room. Spring break started this week at school. And to my delight, my father and his wife are on a month-long European trip. When dad told me that he and Chelsea were going on a tour, I jumped at the chance to housesit. To my regret, Darren, my boyfriend, came along. I mean, I don’t mind having him around, but I worry that he’ll destroy the house with his messy frat boy ways. When I tried to retract my invitation, he got down on his knees and begged me to take him.

Darren and I have been together for a couple of months. He’s not the best boyfriend in the world, but he’s fun to be with. The s*x is not bad either. I mean, he’s not a s*x guru or anything, but he’s not bad. I know what you’re thinking. Why are you with this guy if he’s “not bad” at s*x? Well, so far, I’ve found that s*x is totally overrated. I’ve been with a few guys since I started school years ago, and it has all been a big disappointment. I figure at this point, it beats not being alone. Most of the guys I’ve been with have never really held my interest for long. My girlfriends talk about the wonders of love and their great s****l relationships, but I still haven’t found a guy who can make my toes curl. At least not in school. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t been in love before. It’s exactly the opposite. I fell in love once and, unfortunately, ended up humiliating myself. It still hurts when I think about his rejection. But now, I can also see that it was for the best, considering that he’s my stepbrother. That’s right, I was in love with my stepbrother. But that’s not the worst of it.

I was sixteen when my father met Chelsea St.Clair. They dated for a year before they decided to make it permanent. I’ll never forget the first time I saw Micah. He had just come from being out of the country on some job. My father and Chelsea were meeting for dinner to tell us their good news. Micah and Chelsea were already at the restaurant when we got there. It was like the world slowed down the moment I walked through the door and saw him. My mouth had gone dry, and my heart had sped up at the sight of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And a man he was. Micah was twenty-six at the time, and I was young. I remember the quick glimpse of interest on his face when he first laid eyes on me. I almost fainted when he stood up and held his hand out to my father and me in greeting. His emerald green eyes glowed under the olive tan of his skin and shaggy, dark brown hair. His body was incredible, with his broad shoulders and powerful long legs encased inside an Armani suit.

I remember biting my lip to keep myself from groaning in pleasure when he enfolded his hand in mine, gave me a devilish smile, and uttered in a husky male voice. “It’s nice to meet you, Sophia.” I felt like I was struck by lightning. Heat traveled through my body to create a pleasurable fire between my thighs, and the walls of my sheath quiver with a near painful need. I had never felt anything like it before. Thankfully, he didn’t notice the turmoil that rushed through my body as we sat there and enjoyed dinner.

It wasn’t until months later, when I turned eighteen, that I revealed my true feelings and had my heart broken into a thousand pieces. The mere thought of it makes me cringe with shame. I had offered him my virginity, and he turned me down flat. That’s when I realized that it wouldn’t matter who I had s*x with because they would not be Micah. So, I put my humiliation behind me and slept with the first guy who showed interest in me. It was horrible and uncomfortable, but I didn’t care because I was hurt, and I wanted to fool myself into thinking that Micah’s rejection didn’t matter. s*x became easier after that. Not to sound conceited, but I’ve never lacked male attention. I’m five foot six, with ivory skin, hazel eyes, and long, wavy blonde hair. Not bottle blonde either. I’m a natural blond. My breasts are a firm “C” cup, and my butt is rounded and perky. Some people say that my eyes are my best feature because they are arched like cats and large fringed lashes. My nose is small, and my lips are pouty. I have high cheekbones like my father. Some of my friends have expressed envy at my appearance. Not a bad mix, from what I’ve heard.

I’m a senior at NYU right now. I’m studying Merchandising and Design, and I love it. Over the past four years, I’ve partied and broken a few hearts. And I’ve never let another man hurt me again.

Darren wanders around the contemporary living room area and stops in front of the patio doors near the clean kitchen. “Nice place. When did you say your parents are coming back?” I shake my head and take a seat on the ivory-colored couch. “Not for another couple of weeks. Why?” He gives me a sly smile as he tosses some of the throw pillows to the side and takes a seat beside me. “Well, I thought we can throw a party and invite some of our friends.” He mutters slyly. I shake my head empathically and wave a finger under his nose. “No! No parties. If Chelsea and my dad caught wind of it, they’d kill me.” Darren holds his hands up in surrender and slumps back on the couch. “Geez. Fine! I won’t mention it again. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Rising from the seat, I take a deep breath and wave at the patio doors. “Tell you what. My parents have a really cool indoor pool with UV lights and a skylight that makes it look like we're on a warm summer beach instead of a cool day in upstate New York. How about we go to the pool, relax and have some fun on our own?” I wiggle my brows with a seductive wink. Darren’s head perks up like an enthusiastic puppy. “Sounds like a plan, babe. How about we order takeout and go for a swim?” I nod my head and search for my phone. “Okay, then. I’ll order a pizza while you get us something to drink from the fridge.”

I watch as Darren makes his way to the country-style kitchen and digs into the fridge. The kitchen is homey with its white cabinets, gray granite countertops, and frilly yellow curtains on the window. The appliances are more vintage than contemporary ones. Instead of stainless steel appliances, the fridge and stove are sunny yellows. Which actually makes the kitchen look like the kind you’d see in a dollhouse. The house itself is small, with a small living room and a connected kitchen. There are three bedrooms on the second floor and two bathrooms. The walls are all painted beige and decorated with several family pictures. Two of the walls are covered in bookshelves with a bevy of books in every genre. Dad and Chelsea love to read. There’s a small computer table with an old desktop and large windows taking up most of the wall. Natural light gleams off the beech-colored wooden floors. It’s a nice and comfortable house. I don’t have any real attachment to the house, considering that I only lived in it for a year. But I’ve always found it to be comfortable.

I gaze back at Darren as he sifts through the bottles and runs his gaze over the shelves. He looks cute with his skinny jeans, blue Chive t-shirt, and white all-stars. Darren is the opposite of Micah. He’s the epitome of a party boy, with his blond, shaggy faux-hawk, blue eyes, and body-builder physique. Darren’s on the football and wrestling team, which means he’s in tip-top shape. He’s about an inch shy of six feet and stocky. His voice isn’t as alluring as Micah’s, but he’s sweet in an immature way.

I shake my head, trying to clear any thoughts of Micah from my mind. I don’t understand why I’m thinking about him so much. I mean, I can’t say that I don’t think of him once in a while because that would be a lie. But most of the time, I try not to make it a habit. It just hurts too much to think about him.

Turning toward the indoor lanai, I start removing my short, pink halter dress and sandals. Darren looks at me with a passionate growl as he observes me remove all of my clothes. “Let’s go for a swim,” I mutter with a seductive crook of my index finger. He swallows deeply as he roams his eyes over my naked body. Unfortunately, all I feel is the need to forget. And the best way to get over a man is to get under one. Or so my friend Lynne says. Darren follows me out the patio doors with an unsteady gate as he removes his own clothing. “What about the pizza, babe?” He asks with a boyish pout. Rolling my eyes at his childish question, I turn around and reach for my cell phone. Leave it to my boyfriend to prioritize an empty stomach over s*x.