Better Watch Out

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

M y brain takes that moment to stop working. All I can do is stare stupidly at Fletcher, my hand around the bundle of photos that I shouldn’t be holding.

“W-well that’s not fair,” I snap, stepping further from the dropped photos until my shoulders brush the shelves. “You left them for me on the deck the other morning, remember? And I never got a chance to look at them. What’s so different about me looking at them now, huh?” I try to sound accusatory, wanting to be ahead of the argument instead of feeling like I’m the one who should be in trouble.

Even though by the look on his face, it’s pretty clear I am the one in trouble. He folds his arms, leaning against the shed door as he looks me over, taking in my defensive posture and baleful glare.

“We left you a select few to look at. Not all these.” His eyes flick down to the box, then back up to me and his head tilts to the side. “Besides, I thought you were too horrified to look at them. I’ll admit…” he trails off, looking me over once more. “You surprised me by doing this.”

“Fine. Whatever. Be surprised, then.” I hate how defensive I feel, since I haven’t done anything wrong. “But be surprised out here on your own. I’m going back inside.” With that bold declaration I stride forward, trying to act confident enough that he just moves out of my way.

But this is Fletcher, so that doesn’t happen. He stands there, arms still folded, and I’m finally forced to come to a halt when I’m in danger of walking into him. “Move,” I murmur, tilting my head back to glare up at him. But his eyes narrow, and I’m uncertain enough to add, “Please, Fletch.”

“Oh, I like it when you say please to me.” His voice is low and rough, and it sends a shudder through me that I wasn’t expecting. It’s definitely not okay how hot I find him, how hot I find both of them.

But I suppose that ship has sailed now.

“Okay then…?” I make moving motions at him, trying to shoo him with my fingers. “I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t try to look at anything. I’ll go sit in my room and glare at the weather until it spontaneously changes.” It’s hard to sound irritated when he’s looking at me like he can’t decide what to do with me. Though I worry whatever it is, I won’t like it very much.

Worse, though, is the possibility that I will like it, because he’ll make me .

“You really think that’s going to work?” Fletcher reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You think you can try to intimidate me, to play this off like a mistake. Conor, if you didn’t think that this was a big deal”—he leans in close, until his lips brush my ear—“then why have you been sneaking around and trying not to get caught?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

I’m caught and both of us know it, but I don’t know what to say. My mouth opens, then closes as I filter through a list of comebacks. But none of them feel like they’re going to help.

“Come on.” He steps to the side with a chuckle, letting me out of the shed. “I know you don’t like it out here. Actually, that’s what surprises me. I never thought you’d go in there voluntarily after what happened.” I waste no time in stepping out of the shed, hands shoved in the pocket of my hoodie as I kick snow with my boots. Fletcher closes the shed, making sure to latch the door, and reaches down to tug on Sitka’s ears lightly when the husky comes around to sniff his boots.

When he starts walking, I don’t know what to do other than follow him. It’s not like I want to stay out here, especially with the temperature dropping with the lack of sun in the sky. As we walk, I seem to notice the cold even more, as if somehow it’s dropping significantly with every step I take up to the back deck.

“You saw me from your window, didn’t you?” I ask quietly, waiting for him to slide open the door. Fletcher doesn’t reply. Not at first, while he taps his boots off on the track of the sliding glass, being more thorough than I usually am. But when he gives me the look , I follow suit, only to take them off as soon as we get inside.

My toes curl against the hardwood of the dining room, and I set my boots down on the mat by the door made just for that purpose. The only spot left is between Boone’s and Fletcher’s boots, and mine look so much smaller, less intense than theirs for some reason.

I can’t help but wonder if these are the boots they wore to kill those hikers. If I pick them up, will I find blood in the grooves on the bottom? Or have they been scrubbed so clean, the only thing I might find is the very faint whiff of bleach from the itty-bitty lines in the surface of the soles?

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I turn without realizing Fletcher is so close behind me. It pulls a gasp from my throat and he steps forward, pushing me back against the glass. “You know, I sort of thought that earlier this morning would be enough. That I could play with you and be so sweet and make you see I’m not the monster you think I am.”

“If it helps, I think Boone is a monster, too,” I reply wryly, biting my lip.

Fletcher tilts his head from one side to the other, thinking. “Yeah, maybe,” he agrees. “But you don’t look at him the way you look at me. You’re not afraid of him the way you’re afraid of me. Why is that, Conor?” He reaches out to tilt my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Why are you so much more afraid of me than our dear brother, hmm?”

“It’s weird when you refer to us as actual siblings. You know that right? Especially after…” I trail off, suddenly shy about admitting it. But it’s the wrong move, and Fletcher’s eyes darken with predatory humor.

“After I spanked your pussy and we made you come on our fingers?” he supplies oh-so-helpfully. “Well, if it’s awkward after that…I wonder how it’ll be after I’ve fucked you and made you come on my cock, hmm? If I call you sister darling when you’re full of my cum and can’t walk, will it make you cringe?” I jerk back, nearly hitting my head on the glass as he follows me, not giving me any space. “How long do you think it’ll be until I can make you like it when I remind you that we’re family while my cock’s buried in that pretty cunt of yours?”

“Stop,” I breathe, closing my eyes so I can’t see his piercing blue eyes inches from mine. “Fletcher, come on. I won’t go in the shed or look at the photos, okay? So just stop .”

“Fine.” I’m surprised when he pulls away from me, letting me step away from the cool glass. “But you’re helping me with Boone’s present. I got some lights at the store when I was taking Sitka home yesterday. You remember how much he loves Christmas lights being up, right?” He’s all business now, like he’s completely moved past the shed incident. But I don’t believe it.

“I don’t know why I’m more afraid of you,” I admit as he turns to walk away. “It’s just something about you. Like, the way you always pause and seem to really consider what you’re doing. The way you never get mad, and you never let anyone get the better of you. Boone is easy to piss off, and he’s pretty transparent. I know what to expect with his moods.” Tapping my toes against the floor under me, I fight not to fidget more than that. “So, I don’t know, I guess it’s just fear of not being able to read you. Maybe it’s just me, okay? Maybe I’m just unnerved by stuff like that.”

Fletcher studies me, his blue eyes as frigid as the snow outside. “It’s not just you,” he says at last, his smile fading. “And you’re right to be more afraid of me than Boone. He never would’ve killed those hikers on his own. He had fun, don’t get me wrong. But it wasn’t his idea. Wasn’t his plan.”

Somehow that doesn’t surprise me whatsoever.

“So you got Boone lights ?” I ask, sinking down onto the floor in front of the sofa. Fletcher picks up a plastic bag from the coffee table, setting two boxes of multicolor LEDs on top of it. “That’s sort of a weird present, don’t you think?”

“Not really.” Fletcher shrugs and unboxes the lights, plugging them into the wall before coming to sit down on the couch beside me. He plugs the second strand into the first, giving him a ton of length to work with.

“And you’re just going to…leave them here? On the couch for Boone to?—”

“Take off your clothes.” The words are so casual as they leave him, and I turn slowly to face Fletcher, my brows lifting incredulously toward my bangs.

“Would you like to repeat that?”

“Not really. But I can, if you really need me to.” He doesn’t look at me as he wraps the lights around his arm, checking the box one more time. “Or I can do it for you, but you won’t like that as much.”

I don’t move. Belatedly I notice Sitka is back in her kitchen jail, and I should’ve realized I wasn’t getting away with my little investigation so easily.

Crap.

“Why do you want me to take off my clothes?” My words are slow and measured, and I shift to sit up on the couch beside him, though I hope that’s not an admission of fear or acquiescence.

“Because you’re in trouble, I have an idea for a present, and because I told you to. Now, do you want to take them off like the good girl you can be sometimes, or shall I pin you down, rip them off, and punish you again?” When he turns to look at me, he grins a very jovial, amicable smile.

“God, you’re the worst.” I hesitate for a second longer, half tempted to tell him to make me . But I’m afraid he really will, and I know he isn’t bluffing when he says he’ll punish me. With my ass still sore and my pride still bruised, I make the decision which will hopefully make my life easier today.

Raising my hands in surrender, I stand up and strip out of my layers, until I’m left in my pants and t-shirt. That’s where I hesitate, and I look down at Fletcher again, silently asking him if I really have to do this.

“Come on, princess.” He gestures dismissively at me. “Or do you need my help ?”

That sounds like a threat.

With nervous, clumsy fingers I pull my shirt off, dropping it on the couch with my other layers. Then I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my sweatpants, biting my chapped lips as I hesitate.

“You get until I’m done wrapping these around my arm before I decide you need help.” Yet again he doesn’t look at me as he says it. He’s just so casual with his threats in a way I refuse to admit is hot.

Because unfortunately, it is.

“Fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen it anyway,” I mumble, forcing myself to shove my sweatpants down to my ankles before I step out of them. Instantly I shiver, and Fletcher grabs a blanket off the back of the couch that he spreads out on the floor in front of him.

“Do you need me to turn the heat up for you?” He watches as I rub my arms, but I shake my head slowly. I know the temperature is fine in here, and that I’m only cold from my nerves and being outside this morning. It feels so vulnerable and strange to be naked in the middle of the living room, even though I know we have no neighbors and there’s no chance of anyone coming up here with the snow the way it is and more piling on.

"Come here, princess.” Fletcher reaches out his hand, gripping my arm and gently urging me over to stand in front of him. And then he just…stops. With me standing in front of him and gazing down at him with wide eyes, he just stares up at me, his eyes wandering from my face downward.

It’s unnerving, embarrassing, and makes me feel strange. I can’t help shifting my weight, unable to keep still under his look. “Can you not do whatever you’re doing,” I mutter petulantly, studying the fireplace. “This is weird.”

“Well you might want to get used to it. You’ll be like this for a bit. Turn around and sit in front of me.” I don’t expect that, but I’m grateful to sink to the floor on the soft, fluffy blanket with my legs curled up under me. Fletcher pulls my hair back from my face, his touch making me flinch with expectation. That only earns me a soft chuckle from the blond, and he reaches out to trail his fingers down my jaw. “You’re all right. I’m not going to hurt you. This isn’t really a punishment. I wanted to do it, anyway.”

“That somehow doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence.” But I let him maneuver my arms behind me, leaning forward when he urges me to. It doesn’t take long for me to realize what he’s doing, and I try to move when I feel him start to wrap the lights around my wrists, securing them together. “Wait. They’ll burn, and?—”

“I’m not new at this or careless. These are LEDs, guaranteed to have no heat in them. Just sit still for me.” That kills any argument I might have, and I try my hardest not to fidget as he secures the lights around my wrists before looping another segment of them around my upper arms, just over my elbows. The lights are tight enough that I can’t move much, but not enough to hurt me. I even have a little bit of wiggle room, just in case I need to move slightly to relieve a cramp.

“These are a bit too awkward to be fancy with,” Fletcher explains while he works. “And I think he’d appreciate them even if I just wrapped them around your pretty throat.” His fingers brush over my neck when he says it, like a silent promise. But he just wraps them loosely around my chest, under my breasts in a way that makes the lights slide against my skin. It’s a strange feeling. One that makes me wiggle and flex under him, but somehow that doesn’t seem to bother him.

“You could’ve asked. Or warned me. Or, I don’t know. We could’ve put these around the tree in the garage,” I offer, when the silence becomes too heavy. It’s strange that as he goes, his touch and the feel of the lights becomes almost relaxing, and I finally stop flinching every time he touches me.

“I could’ve. You would’ve said no. Almost done, by the way.” This time he gets down on the floor with me, kneeling in front of me. But he hesitates, to my surprise. He just looks at me again, surveying me now that I can’t wrap my arms around myself. Well, at least I can still press my knees together to hide a little bit from him.

Though he seems to know that’s what I’m thinking. “Sit back for me and put your knees up in front of you, princess.” He waits for me to do it, not seeming to really mind that I hesitate and try to find some reason to argue with him.

But I can’t find any that he’d care about. I finally do what he says, my toes curling against the blanket. Fletcher leans forward and runs his hands up my calves, then wraps the lights around my left calf and thigh, keeping them pressed together as he does. “And lean forward a little…” I have no idea what he’s doing, though it feels like he’s looping the lights around the strands at my wrists again for some reason.

Then he does the same to my other leg, so that I couldn’t unbend my legs much if I wanted to. It’s then that we hear a thump and a curse from above, and both of us glance up the stairs.

“Guess I’m finishing just in time.” Fletcher’s grin turns wicked, and he secures the strands around my other leg before getting back up to sit behind me once more on the couch.

“I don’t get the point of—” My words are cut off when he snugs the strands up, and the way he’s wrapped them around the lights on my wrists forces my thighs open so that I can’t close them. “Fletcher!” I yelp, indignation and shock sending heat to my face. “What the fuck ?!”

“Don’t be so surprised.” Lastly he wraps the lights around my throat a couple of times, then drapes the loose end over my shoulder. “There. All done up for him. Too bad I don’t have a bow for you, but maybe next time.”

Next time.

Why in the world would there be a next time? From the corner of my eye I see him fish out his phone and type something, and then he’s pulling me back against the couch, not giving me any stability or way to hide myself whatsoever.

“This had better be good.” Boone’s cranky words echo down the stairs, and I groan, closing my eyes for all of three seconds before I can’t keep them shut anymore.

“I was going to…” he trails off when he sees us, with Fletcher petting my hair and me all tied up in Christmas lights. “ Oh. ” He nearly falls off the bottom step, and stumbles across the living room to stare down at me. “I…yeah, this is definitely good.” His eyes flick to Fletcher’s and the blond gets up, stepping around me to lean in and kiss Boone on the cheek.

“Just for you, gorgeous boy,” he growls, nipping his lip. “Don’t keep her there for too long, though. She’ll get stiff. And we take care of what’s ours in this family.”

That shouldn’t have me shivering for reasons other than being cold, but it does. Boone sinks down in front of me on the floor, eyes wandering over me like he can’t decide where to look. But then he focuses in on how my thighs are held open, staring at me until I’m squirming, trying to press my knees together without success.

“You can play with her, you know.” Fletcher sinks down into one of the recliners, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin on his hand. “I didn’t do this so you’d just look.”

“I know, I know.” Boone reaches out and grabs the loose end of lights that are like a leash and tugs me upward just a little. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so hot, snow bunny. And you.” He turns, grinning wolfishly at Fletcher. “You really do know me so well. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Their easy affection would be enviable if I was trying not to die of embarrassment.

Boone runs his hands up my calves, seeming to marvel over the lights that keep my legs bent at the knee and spread. Then he turns me slightly, whistling when he sees Fletcher’s handiwork on my arms. “How does it feel, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his eyes finding mine. “Do you like being all lit up for me?”

I can’t answer him. I don’t know how to answer him when I’m pretty sure my brain is short circuiting at the moment. So I look away, only for him to chuckle and drag my face back to look at him. “Oh no, baby,” he teases. “You don’t want to be a brat with me right now. Can’t you see how easy it would be for me to punish you for it? After all…” He traces a finger up my slit, making me gasp.

“There’s nowhere for you to go and no way for you to hide from me. So tell me how it feels, snow bunny.”

“I-it’s embarrassing,” I whisper. “I mean…I just feel like I can’t go anywhere or do anything or?—”

“You can’t,” Fletcher says sweetly. “That’s the point.”

“I hate you.” I open my eyes to glare at him and see Boone move closer, his hands skimming up my sides until he can cup my breasts in his palms.

“I don’t hate him.” Teasingly he brushes his thumbs over my nipples, making me shiver. “I think he’s a pretty great boyfriend, actually. Oh, pretty little thing, this makes me want to do so many terrible things to you. Did you know that?” All I can do is shake my head, trying not to die of humiliation.

“But you know, I think he wants to see me play with you,” Boone tells me in a stage-whisper. “Like the grateful partner I am. He went to all this trouble for me, after all. So what do you say, hmm?”

“You really don’t want to hear what I have to say,” I reply, glaring at him balefully. It only seems to turn him on more, though, because in seconds his lips are sliding against mine, his hands back to wandering my body and teasing every sensitive bit of skin he can find.

“I bet you’re already wet for me.” His fingers tease my entrance as he says it, and I shake my head, knowing my denial is a lie. “No? You sure?” Boone slides two into my pussy, and I inhale sharply. “Because it feels like it to me. Do you want to check?”

Before I can answer he’s gripping my jaw and when I gasp, he shoves both fingers into my mouth. “Clean them off and tell me that’s not the taste of a filthy snow bunny who wants me to play with her.” His words are low and rough, and when I open my eyes he’s watching me closely. I can’t look away. I can’t do anything except flick my tongue over his fingers and taste myself on him, which has my face flushing with heat and me squirming in the light restraints as much as I can.

“You want to try again? Want to tell me that you aren’t excited for me to play with you?” He lets go of me, only to crook two fingers into me once more. “Because your body is a bad liar.”

“Still hate you.” That’s as much as I can say with my face burning and my throat tight.

“Still don’t believe you.” He watches me, his free hand toying with the lights as he fingers me. Two fingers quickly becomes three, and when I let out a soft, accidental moan, his grin grows wicked again.

“Oh, baby, you don’t have to hide your moans for me. You know why?” He doesn’t wait for me to shake my head before adding, “Because I can hear how much you’re enjoying this. Listen to your greedy, soaking wet pussy. You hear that?” He starts to finger me harder, thrusting them in and out until I can hear the wet noises that make me want to die on the spot.

“No, don’t look like that. Don’t be embarrassed for being perfect. Fuck, baby, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.” He sits back, biting his lip, and reaches down with one hand to shove his sweatpants down his hips. It’s easy for him to free his length, and he pulls his fingers free from me to wrap that hand around his cock with a moan.

“Can I help?” Fletcher doesn’t move until Boone nods, and then the blonde gets to his feet, coming over to drag Boone to his. “Sit on the couch, baby boy,” he murmurs to his brother, brushing their lips together.

Boone does what he’s told, and it takes Fletcher only a few seconds to undo some of the lights enough that I can actually move my legs.

Not that I get to take advantage of the freedom. He urges me to turn until I’m on my knees facing Boone, and he pulls my hair back over my shoulder, hands cupping my breasts.

“Sit on the edge of the couch for me, Boone,” Fletcher murmurs, and when Boone complies he pushes me forward, his chest pressed to my back as I’m forced to lean over Boone’s lap.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty like this for you? And I know how much you love Conor’s tits.” The blond pushes me forward until Boone’s cock slides against my chest, warm against my already hot skin. “Just sit there, baby boy,” he says when Boone starts to move. “Just enjoy your pretty present.”

Fletcher’s fingers knead and massage my breasts, pulling a moan from me, and he pushes them together, keeping Boone’s length between them.

“Oh fuck .” Boone throws back his head, but Fletcher is far from done. He rocks with me, using his own body to move me up and down so that Boone’s cock slides easily against me.

“Good girl.” Fletcher’s voice is soft in my ear. “Look at how happy you’re making him. So good to Boone, aren’t you?” His fingers press harder, drawing another small sound from me, and that has Boone’s cock leaking, his precum rubbing onto my skin when Fletcher keeps forcing me to move this way.

Before long Boone is panting, looking at us from under his lashes as his hips arch gently against me with every movement. “You’re both so perfect. Fletcher, God .” He grips his hair, breathing heavily. “I’m gonna come. This is too much. Especially with how she’s looking up at me. Do you see her face, Fletch?”

“Yeah, I see her face,” Fletcher chuckles, and when he rocks into me again I feel his own excitement pressing against my lower back. “So why don’t you come all over it?”

“What?” I yelp, but Fletcher’s already gripping my chin, forcing me to keep looking up at Boone.

“Come all over her pretty face, Boone. Then I’ll make her come for you too, right here, filthy and wet and all tied up in lights for you. Does that sound good?”

Wordlessly Boone jerks his head forward in a nod, and after a few more times of Fletcher guiding me against him so he’s fucking my tits Boone sits up and reaches out, gripping my hair and holding me in place.

“Fletcher, c-can you please, please touch me,” he pants, but his eyes are all for me. The blond certainly doesn’t complain. He reaches around me, one hand still toying with my breast, and wraps his fingers around Boone’s length.

“You’re so close, baby,” he purrs. “And you’re so good for me. Show Conor how much you appreciate her.”

“Open your mouth, Conor,” Boone growls, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Please, fuck . Open your mouth for me.”

I don’t know why I do it. I’ve certainly never had someone ask or want to do anything like this, and I’m sure that I’m going to refuse and pull away. But instead I find myself opening my mouth, tongue resting on my lower lip in a way that has Boone moaning loudly enough to be worrisome if we had neighbors.

“Good girl, good girl ,” he praises, and gets to repeat it a few more times before he gasps and bucks his hips into Fletcher’s hand one more time. His release hits my tongue and my cheek, dripping down both as I wait for him to finish. I’m panting, breathing heavily and unconsciously trying to rock my hips forward to find any kind of friction but receiving none.

“Swallow it,” Fletcher murmurs against my ear. And inexplicably, I close my mouth and do exactly what he says. “Good girl.” He licks at my cheek, cleaning up the rest of my face as I whine and squirm against him.

It’s becoming a problem with how much I like being called good girl . An embarrassing one that I’d rather take to my grave than admit.

“Good girls get rewarded. And you know he loves to watch you lose it.” Without waiting for me to reply or process his words, Fletcher tugs me backward, forcing me to lose my balance and fall against him. He’s quick to force my legs apart, his grip a warning to keep them there, before he spreads my pussy with his fingers so Boone’s view isn’t impeded whatsoever.

It feels like I’m on display. Like he’s doing this more for Boone’s pleasure than mine, and a tremble ripples up my spine. The feeling isn’t a bad one. Especially when he shoves three fingers into me, fucking me hard on them and dragging a needy whine from my lips.

“Fletcher…” I pant writhing on his lap. “Please, Fletch?—”

“I won't make you wait,” the blond promises. “Come whenever you want to, princess. Come on, be a good girl for me and for Boone. I know you can.” His words shove me towards the edge, and when he adjusts so he can swirl his thumb over my clit, any semblance of control I have left shatters.

I cry out and lean my head back on Fletcher’s shoulder, my hips bucking into his hand while he fingers me. I can hear Boone talking, praising me with filthy words and promises, but with my blood pounding in my ears it’s too hard to really hear anything.

Finally, though, my heart stops racing while I’m leaning on Fletcher’s shoulder, still breathing heavily while I stare up at the ceiling. “If…if this is Boone’s present, mine had better be legendary,” I murmur in a hoarse, tired voice.

“Oh yeah? And what would make your present legendary, princess?” Already Fletcher is unwinding the lights, and Boone sinks to his knees in front of me to run his hands over my skin, his warmth making me relax.

“Ask me when my brain works.” That’s the best I’ve got for now, while my head spins and my heart races for the two people that it really, really shouldn’t.

I hate them. I just have to remember that.