Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ARES
Ophelia purrs like a kitten when she moans. I wasn’t planning to suck on her nipple, but when she shoved those big tits in my face, I couldn’t help myself. They were there for the taking.
Ophelia storms out of the den after I offer to let her shoot me, which is a shame for both of us. It seemed like a fair trade. Watching her pussy swallow the barrel of my gun would have been worth the bullet wound.
She’ll end up shooting me by the end of this month. I might as well get it over with now. At least, we’ll both get something out of it.
She left the three of us rock-hard and irritated. Frustration tugs at Apollo’s face as he adjusts himself. Atlas covers his boner with the sketchbook and shoves his hand down the front of his sweatpants.
“Told you she wouldn’t fuck you,” Atlas says the second Ophelia’s door shuts at the end of the hallway. “You think every woman wants you, Ares. But Ophelia isn’t like the girls you fuck.”
I cock my head at Atlas. “What is she like? Please enlighten me, baby brother, since you’re so fucking smart.”
“You know Atlas is right.” Apollo flashes an all-knowing look. “Ophelia is a boss. The men at Olympus respect her for a reason. She’s not an extension of her father, and she won’t put up with your usual mindfuckery.”
“Mindfuckery? Did you learn that word at Yale?”
He rolls his eyes. “Jealous much, dickhead?”
Apollo is one year younger than me and thinks he’s smarter. Maybe he is. The little shit got early acceptance into Yale University and graduated with the highest honors two years ago with a degree in finance.
School wasn’t my strong suit.
I never paid attention.
I was too busy wasting time and fucking girls and a few hot teachers. My face has gotten me far in life. Of my brothers, I’m the best-looking and care about what I put into my body.
Apollo is a genius.
Atlas is creative.
I’m the muscle.
We each have a different role to play in this family. I couldn’t figure out the business side of Akropolis, so Apollo agreed to take over the financial shit. I can’t look at a spreadsheet without getting a headache.
Atlas handles the marketing. His brain works differently from Apollo’s. He’s the reason our fight club has gotten so much attention online.
Still, I’m older than my brothers and don’t need them to advise me, especially not on matters of women. I know what women want.
Me.
“So tell me how you’d win her over,” I say to my brothers, purely out of curiosity.
“She’s insecure about her body,” Apollo tells me.
I roll my eyes at him. “My Little Dragon isn’t afraid of anything. She’s like Harley Quinn and Daenerys Targaryen rolled into one fine-ass woman.”
“I pay attention.” Apollo leans back on the couch, legs spread as he smirks like he knows more than me. “Reading people is my specialty. Why do you think I fed her dessert? She’s not as indestructible as you think.”
I found it odd when Apollo sat close to Ophelia at dinner. He hasn’t touched a woman in four years. Not since the night that screwed up all three of our lives.
“You fed her to fuck with my head,” I fire back, annoyed with him always throwing his intelligence in my face. “And to make her uncomfortable.”
Apollo shakes his head. “I did it to show Ophelia she can eat in front of us. She has a hang-up about her weight.”
My eyebrows knit together. “What’s wrong with her weight?”
“I’m surprised you, of all people, haven't noticed,” Atlas interjects. “You’re obsessed with being in shape. At least twice a day, you give us shit about what we eat, and we can lift more than you.”
“No, you can’t,” I say with conviction. “I could bench you and Apollo.”
“Not the point, Ares,” Atlas groans. “You’re always telling us we’ll get fat if we don’t eat organic. If you do that shit with Ophelia, she’ll probably rip off your balls and keep them in a jar on her nightstand.”
I roll my eyes.
Apollo threads his fingers behind his head and kicks his long legs up on the coffee table.
“While you thought Ophelia was pulling down her shirt to give you a better look at her tits, I saw what she was doing.” He glances at Atlas, who seems to follow this conversation better than I do. “Trying to hide her stomach.”
Ophelia has big tits and a fat ass I want to sink my teeth into. I can’t wait for her to smother me with her thick thighs as she’s coming on my face and screaming my name. Bonus points if she holds a gun to my head while I’m doing it.
Wouldn’t that be a rush?
“I saw it, too,” Atlas adds. “I couldn’t stop drawing her.”
My brother enjoys finding everyone’s flaws and exposing them on paper. He once told me, The world is my canvas.
I’m not that poetic.
“She doesn’t have to hide shit from me,” I tell them. “I think we should make a no-clothing rule for when we’re in the house.”
“We’re not here for Ophelia,” Apollo reminds me, lowering his voice. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Ares.”
“I like the idea of taking Ophelia from Belen,” Atlas says, tapping a charcoal pencil on his knee. “He won’t have anyone or anything left by the time we’re done with him.”
“I also like this idea,” I say.
Apollo snorts. “Of course you do. When do you not think with your dick?”
“This isn’t about my dick,” I shoot back. “I want revenge as badly as you do.”
Our dad was Belen’s right-hand man until they had a falling out over money. Dad was the financial manager when someone pointed out that funds were missing.
It wasn’t our dad.
He wasn’t a criminal like Belen but a deep thinker like Apollo. Someone set him up to take the fall, and our family went down with him. Mom divorced him six months after the scandal. She was so embarrassed she couldn’t stand to be attached to a man who brought shame to us.
Our dad tried to prove his innocence. He even begged Mom to speak to Belen’s wife since they were best friends. Seven months ago, someone murdered my dad outside Olympus—Ophelia’s club.
Anger washes over me as I ball my hand into a fist on my lap. I want to hurt Belen for what he did to us. Atlas snaps my thoughts back to reality when he taps the drawing pencil against the sketchbook.
“What have you been drawing all night?” I hold out my palm, wiggling my fingers. “Hand it over.”
Atlas lifts the book from his lap and shows me a sketch of Ophelia.
She looks like an old-school pinup girl with big tits falling out of a corset and high-waisted panties partially covering her stomach.
Thighs spread, she leans forward with her hands on her knees, staring back at me with a sexy smile.
He sees her the way I see her.
I can tell Apollo does, too.
“She’s mine.” I snarl at my brothers. “So back off.”
“We’re in this together,” Apollo interjects. “Since when have you not liked sharing?”
The twins are used to sharing everything. But I never had to share with anyone, not until four years ago, when Apollo came home from college a shell of his former self.
He asked me to do something I never thought I would do. Then he asked the same of Atlas. We couldn’t say no after what he had been through. So if Ophelia wants one of us, she will get all three of us.