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Bracing, I wait for her to explode, but instead her shoulders slump and her expression becomes almost petulant, making her look exactly like the twenty-year-old she is. Most of the time she’s so mature, that I forget she’s barely out of her teens. Sadness washes over me as I think about all the things she’s missed out on in the last couple of years.
Most eighteen-year-old’s are thinking about prom and college applications, but before she’d even had a chance to finish high school, Alabama’s aunt kicked her out and she spent a year sleeping rough, starving and fighting to survive at every turn.
It’s a fucking miracle that she didn’t end up as an addict, a prostitute, or dead. That’s the route most homeless teens end up on. But even before I spent a year watching her, I knew she was too strong not to claw her way out of hell.
I’m not entirely sure how she managed to get a job and an apartment, but out of nothing, she forged a life for herself. It might have been a narrow life in comparison to what we’re used to, but it was hers, fought for and won all on her own.
“Today, we’ll just get in the water and you can get your bearings. It’ll be fun, I promise,” I try to reassure her, running my fingertip over the side of her hand.
Roza walks out onto the patio carrying plates of food, and I pull my finger away from her while Roza places food down in front of Dimi, then Vik, leaving and returning with mine and finally Alabama’s.
The chicken Caesar salad is delicious and I smile as I watch Alabama eat. She doesn’t finish it like the rest of us do, but she eats over half, which is the most food I’ve seen her eat since she got here.
“Good?” Dimi asks her, a smirk curling the corners of his lips.
“Very,” she answers.
Clearing our salad plates, Roza replaces them with wide brimmed bowls full of huge prawns piled onto spicy roasted veggies, drizzled with some kind of oil.
“Thanks, Roza, this looks amazing,” I tell her, turning to smile at Alabama and finding her eyes wide, her lips twisted into a grimace. “What’s the matter?” I ask.
“It…” She points at the bowl.
“What’s up?” Vik asks.
“The heads are still on?” she says, leaning as far back as her seat will allow.
“Would you like me to peel them for you?” Dimi asks, his eyes alight with amusement.
“No. I’m full after the salad.” She grimaces, shaking her head.
Ignoring her, Dimi stands, circles the table and then crouches down beside her. Reaching out, he takes one of the prawns from her plate and quickly peels it, discarding the head and shell into the bowl Roza placed in the middle of the table for that purpose.
“Here,” Dimi says, holding the flesh to her lips.
Her breathing goes shallow and for some reason, I find myself holding my breath, waiting for her to refuse. My dick goes hard as a rock when her lips slowly part and she takes a small bite of the prawn Dimi is holding between his fingers.
“What do you think?” he asks her, leaning in until she’s forced to part her legs to allow him more space.
“Spicy, but good,” she whispers.
“Here,” he says, holding the rest of the meat out for her to eat.
Her lips part and she lets him feed her to the rest, her wary eyes locked with his.
When she swallows, a soft smile splits his lips. Then the fucker brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers.
Before I can offer to peel the rest of the prawns for her, Dimi rises and Vik takes his place, holding the prawn flesh out to her. An intense heat bubbles between the two of them as he holds the food just out of reach, forcing her to lean forward to eat it. Vik’s smile is all seduction and when she swallows the prawn, he presses into her and kisses her.
I don’t know if she kisses him back, because he immediately pulls back, grinning broadly as he jumps up and retakes his seat on the opposite side of the table. There’s one prawn left in her bowl and a part of me wants to feed it to her, but my sensible side warns me not to push her. Especially when the others are doing everything they can to force her to relent to their will.
Taking the prawn from her bowl, I peel it, then place it back on top of her veggies, winking at her when she looks at me in surprise.
The rest of lunch is uneventful and once the plates have been cleared away, both Vik and Dimi press kisses to Alabama’s cheek before excusing themselves to go back to our office.
“Why don’t we head upstairs and get changed into our swimwear? We can tan for a little while by the pool before we get in,” I suggest.
Offering her my hand again, I’m half expecting her to ignore it, but instead, she easily slides hers into mine and I lace our fingers together again, leading her up the stairs and into the bedroom.
