Chapter 9 Gray
It had been a few days since the disaster that was dinner.
I had stayed away from her, not that easy to do when she was fucking everywhere, but I’d managed it.
I couldn’t help it, and I knew I was being a dick, just as I knew we needed to sit down and discuss it, and I knew I had to, at some point, tell my cousin that I’d fucked his ex. Not once, not twice, but three times.
And I couldn’t tell him.
I couldn’t tell him how much I hated myself for loving her. From the moment she jumped into the pool just to prove me wrong, she’d owned my heart. I didn’t recognize it for what it was when I was ten. Didn’t really understand it when I was twelve, and we made the pact not to date her.
A pact. A fucking pact.
We were all stupid. She was captivating, even with braces and hair that looked like it had never seen a brush; she was all I saw. I went out of my way to make her laugh, make her happy. All I ever wanted was for her to see me. Not as Jett’s twin or Ash’s cousin, but me.
I still don’t think she ever did.
She saw Ash flirt with girls, but she never noticed that I didn’t.
I watched her eyes follow Ash in the cafeteria when he flirted with the other girls, and I saw her frown.
My only reassurance was that she never, ever looked at Jett that way.
They were so firmly friend-zoned; it was laughable that neither Ash nor I were good enough.
Well, Ash was good enough. I grunted as I ran. Coach had given me grief about my focus, and I had talked back to him. So, I was running laps as punishment, because Coach was a giant dick. But also because he was my coach, I respected him, and I shouldn’t have been a smartass.
My mind went back to her as I ran. I knew as soon as Ash told me he had kissed her that I was in danger of killing them both. How fucking dare he touch what was mine? How fucking dare she let him touch what was mine?
But what had I done? Nothing. I pretended it didn’t matter. It was just a kiss, big deal. She’d been kissed before. And like before, I would tell her to stop it, and she would. Because she knew that she belonged to me.
But no, she let him kiss her again, and she opened her legs and let him finger fuck her in a closet at a party, like a fucking cliché.
He had boasted to me that he’d had his fingers inside her, and my rage had known no bounds.
I’d beat up three guys that night until I felt nothing.
Jett had been furious, even more so when I wouldn’t tell him what was wrong with me.
Our older brother, Onyx, had found me sitting in the dark at the end of the pool, a towel wrapped around my hand to soothe the sting of the cuts.
“You’re being reckless,” he warned me.
“I know.”
“She isn’t worth it.” Onyx looked over at me, and I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze.
“She is.”
“No, brother, she isn’t. She doesn’t care. You’re making yourself weak.”
“I’m not weak,” I growled at him as he stood and looked down at me.
“Then stop being a fucking pussy. Tell her what you want, let her slap you down, and then get over it.”
But I wasn’t Jett, I never had been. My twin knew what to say to people, say to girls, I didn’t. However, I’d told her. I’d asked her to put a stop to it. I had kissed her to show her what she meant to me. And she had kissed me back, just as eager, just as desperate to be mine.
It had been done. I was sure of it. Then Ash told Jett and me he was dating her. Thank fuck I’d been training on the punching bag at the time, or else my fists would have connected with his face.
Why would she do that? I had made it clear. She was mine.
Was Onyx right? Was she truly not worth it?
Five months they went out for, and it was as painful to watch as it was amusing.
Ash was content as he had a prize. She was known to be an ice queen in school, and he had snagged himself the Queen.
Made even more true because she acted like he wasn’t there.
He would hold her hand, and she would let him, but she would give her cheek when he went in for a kiss.
She never let him kiss her on the lips when I was there.
Every single time he tried or put an arm around her, she would look at me with guilt as she shook him off.
She should be fucking guilty. Anger and hurt had continued to build in my chest until I didn’t know how to let it out.
Onyx took me to a college party. We didn’t tell anyone.
He was in his junior year, and he took me to the football house, keeping me pretty much out of sight.
I was sixteen — I was a walking fucking hormone.
In a room in the basement, he pushed me inside, and then ten minutes later, he came back with a dark-haired girl.
She didn’t even tell me her name, she just dropped to her knees, undid my jeans, and swallowed my dick.
When she was finished, she stood, undressed, and lay on the bed with her legs spread.
I hesitated for one moment, and with a smile, she turned over and raised herself on her hands and knees.
She told me it was easier sometimes not to put a face to the body under you.
She was right.
With her hair wrapped around my fist, I fucked her while I thought of whose hair should have been around my fist, whose body should have been under mine, whose pussy should have been clutching at my dick.
When we were finished, Onyx drove me home and asked me if I felt better. I had no words, and thankfully, my brother didn’t seem to need any, because how did I tell him I thought of her the entire time?
Then one night at a party, Ash was flirting too much with too many girls.
It pissed me off. Why was he out here, with us, fucking about when she was at home?
Some dick commented on the very same thing, only Ash never heard him.
I did, though. When the dick suggested it was because the ice queen was too frigid, I nailed his ass to the ground.
Jett got pissed at me and suggested I call it a night.
Why I went to her house, I didn’t know.
When she undressed in front of me, it took every ounce of control not to grab her and make her mine.
But I couldn’t, because I had convinced myself she wasn’t mine.
She had never been mine, and I was trying hard to accept it, and just when I thought I had it under control, she climbed into my lap and said Touch me.
I told her to end it with Ash; it was clear to us both now he wasn’t who she wanted.
Two weeks. It took two weeks for her to fucking end it with Ash, and then when she did, she lied. Again. Telling him someone else had fucked her. No one had been near her. I don’t even think Ash had been close to her.
She couldn’t tell him the truth — always lying, always deceitful, always hiding.
I watched her as she waited for Ash to calm down. I watched her as my brother tried — and failed — to remain neutral. I watched her run out of the door, away from them, like the coward she was.
When Jett told me to check on her, I almost refused.
Finding her in the bathroom, crying, I watched her. The cowardice and guilt were gone. Her anger at me for pushing her rose to the surface, and she lashed out, her temper wild, her pain obvious, and she was breathtaking.
Even as she glared at me, all I wanted to do was make her feel what I felt. I never meant to kiss her. I never meant to touch her, and I sure as fuck didn’t mean to screw her on the bathroom sink. But she was so willing, so open, so fucking intoxicating, I needed to be inside her. Own her.
No one made me crazy like she did.
Then we froze her out. How could I not? What was I to do, tell Ash I fucked his ex ten minutes after she ripped his heart out? Not happening.
And it was better. She wasn’t constantly there. She wasn’t constantly close to me, tempting me, taunting me.
We caused mayhem a few months later at a rival’s party. I spotted her on the balcony, half hidden in shadows, looking down on the party like the Queen she was.
As Jett and Ash caused mayhem downstairs, I quickly climbed the stairs and found her in the bedroom. I gave her the in to come back into the fold. The can of spray paint I gave her was her way in, and the moment she looked at me, I knew I would never be free of her.
Later that night, I’d found her again. She was on the lounge chair beside the pool, her legs bare, her jean shorts covering her ass and not much else.
A black hoodie, mine, I noticed, was wrapped around her as she slept.
The pool was in darkness, and I found her because she hadn’t been at home when I checked.
I knew there was only one other place she could be.
I woke her from her sleep, and she looked up at me, not surprised to see me at all. Holding out my hand, I offered to walk her the short distance to her house, which sat beside ours.
In the dark of the path that led around the side of my house to the drive, she grabbed my hand and, like she did the time before, placed my hand on her chest. Nothing held me back that time. I already knew what it felt like to be inside her, and I had been craving to feel it again.
I fucked her hard against the wall on the side of my house. My hand over her mouth to stop her cries, my other hand strumming her clit as I thrust into her again and again, needing her to come so I could.
She was more than a drug. She was more than a craving. She consumed me, and if I wasn’t careful, she would burn me.
Afterward, I confessed what I had done to Onyx.
He hadn’t been impressed that I had fallen under her spell again.
He told me what I needed to hear. What would Ash do?
How could I tell him? It didn’t matter that I had never touched her when she was with him; what mattered was that I had touched her at all. He was family. Blood. She was . . .