The Moon Knows How to Play

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The garden patio was alive with gold. Late afternoon sunlight spilled over the vines crawling up the old mansion's stone walls, touching the wineglasses until they glowed like rubies. A long table stretched beneath the pergola, covered in white linen and set with more food than any of us could finish—roasted meat still steaming on silver platters, bowls of fresh fruit gleaming with mango and papaya, pitchers of wine and juice catching the light.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

And I couldn't focus on a damn thing.

Because across the table sat Elunar Falacia.

Me? I was barely paying attention to the food.

I sat across from Elunar Falacia. My cock ached under the tablecloth, pressed hard against the inside of my pants. Painful. Relentless. I shifted in my chair, thankful for the thick cloth hiding my lap.

Her braid spilled over her shoulder, loose strands framing her face. She didn't paint her lips, yet they burned red like they'd been kissed a thousand times. The dress she wore was black, simple, not meant to draw attention—but fuck, every shift of her body dragged my gaze to the hollow of her throat, to the rise and fall of her chest.

She knew.

She knew where my eyes landed, and she hated it. That was why she kept lifting her chin, glaring daggers across the table, as if her stare alone could cut me down.

But God, I wanted her more for it.

Every glare from her was gasoline. Every muttered insult made my cock throb harder beneath the safety of the tablecloth.

"So," my father began, slicing into his meat with more effort than necessary, "how was the ranch tour? Did my son take care of you two?"

Eclips nearly bounced in her chair. "It was amazing! He even picked mangoes for us himself. Those apple mangoes—so sweet, and the purple ones? I didn't even know purple mangoes existed!"

She tossed me a glowing smile like I'd just handed her heaven itself. Cute. Sexy, in a playful way.

But my eyes weren't on her. They were on her sister.

Elunar stabbed her fork into her food like it had personally offended her. She chewed slowly, swallowed, and then spoke in a voice flat enough to kill birds out of the sky.

"He's a pervert."

The table fell into silence.

My father sputtered, coughing into his glass. My mother—oh, my mother—threw her head back and laughed so loud it shook the vines above us. She slapped her thigh, nearly tipping her wineglass. "Ah, hija! That's wonderful. He takes after us!"

I smirked, never looking away from Elunar's green eyes.

Her jaw dropped slightly, disbelief clear on her face. She looked from my mother to me, as if asking, Are you hearing this?

Yes. I was hearing. And I was enjoying every second.

Tito Heraya sighed, shoulders heavy, and muttered, "Apologies, hijo."

I leaned forward, elbows pressing into the table, smirk widening. "Don't worry, Tito. I don't mind at all." My gaze locked with Elunar's. "In fact... besides being a pervert, what else do you think of me?"

My father choked so hard this time he had to grab his napkin.

Eclips broke into giggles. "Sis! How can you call him that? Maybe you're the one lusting after him. I saw your face when you two were on that horse earlier—you looked like you were enjoying yourself."