Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CALEB
“She doesn’t know?” I whisper yell, struggling to keep my voice down as I get in my brother’s face.
It annoys me more that he seems so calm right now.
“She doesn’t know what, if she moulded around my cock so perfectly it felt like she was handmade by the Gods for us?
What doesn’t she know right now?” My voice is an octave higher as frustration bubbles away in my veins.
“Maybe it was nothing?” I spit out, repeating her words with an uneven chuckle that feels like a fire licking at my lungs as I pace the room, pinching my lower lip between my fingers as I consider her level of fucking audacity.
I’ve lost the fucking plot; I’m standing here whispering angrily to no-one while I gaze intently at the woman I’ve professed to hate, as she pours out her heart and obliterates mine.
It feels like a private moment, but I can’t withdraw my gaze from her beautiful face, furrowed brows marred with the weight of unspoken worries.
How can she boil our night down to nothing?
‘Just a one-time thing.’ I shudder at the reminder and curse all wayward feelings I’m currently experiencing—I’m meant to be the strong one.
I’m the one with his shit together.
‘This is a shit pie—no one has control here, and you are certainly drowning in whatever the emotion is that has your fists clenching like that.’
Fuck that voice, fuck my conscience, and fuck her.
“How are you so calm right now?” I address my brother who is lounging on a beanbag watching Ebony on the screen with a dopey smile plastered across his face.
“She didn’t deny us, so look on the bright side, Cal.
We tied her up and fucked her six ways from Sunday, and she’s still talking about us with joy lighting her expression.
You need to read between the lines. She was into us.
For a moment there, we all forgot about the past. We can have that again. ”
“When did you get so wise?”
“I’m not gonna lie, about the same time our Dove let me sink into her arse. A part of me found Jesus. I didn’t know what euphoria meant before that moment.”
“Slow down, Pope John. No one present in this room wants to see your erection. Talk your buddy down to resting phase, please.”
A couple of knocks to his crotch and a silent mental berating, his hard on crumbles, which I’m grateful for; sibling cock when Ebony isn’t around to play referee is not my bag, and I know it isn’t Cooper’s.
So we like to dabble in murder and our morals are questionable at best, but that sibling shit is not for us. We share our woman, this woman—equally.
“If you don’t want to see them again, I could set you up on a normal date. No strings, just fun.”
Her roommate’s voice rings through our headphones in tandem.
I growl like a feral animal at her remark.
“Do we kill women who make stupid suggestions like that?” Coop asks deadpan, his gaze locked on the screen where Ebony looks entirely too fucking sad for a woman still riding the high of last night.
“We can make an exception. She’ll go on a date over my dead body,” I retort through clenched teeth. Coop nods silently beside me as his jaw clicks in frustration, all mirth and wisdom dying a slow fiery death as he gets a taste of the anger I’m feeling.
“So we’re both on board—our Dove belongs to us until we’re done with her.”
‘Well, it’s gonna be a cold day in hell before that happens—you remember the whole ‘you are our wife’ statement?’
The memory tucked away inside the present thought jars me, that voice in my head wading through all the times where we had claimed her as ours, imprinting our twisted sense of ownership into her alabaster skin to the point that giving her up felt like a preposterous thought.
I don’t hate the list of moments where I realised I was done for where this woman was concerned; in fact the list has my cock jumping in my underwear as the visual of her bound naked and presented beautifully to me, her centre soaked with her arousal…pert nipples…
Fucking hell, this woman. I’ve lost all control.
I need a new list—a list I can get on board with, a list that doesn’t have the mental image of her naked and bouncing on my cock every time I close my eyes.
She hurt us, she betrayed us, all of this is to punish her.
I don’t like the way my brain laughs at the string of lies. But I also refuse to contest it—right now that little voice in my head seems to be the only adulting grown-up in the room.
Stay away from her.
Under no circumstances will you touch her again.
The warnings fall on deaf ears because all I want to do right now is haul her up into my arms. I’ve never been accused of being a wise man.
We’ve been hiding out here in her bedroom for the past thirty minutes, watching and listening to her on the cameras as she and Megan animatedly chat between chewing down handfuls of popcorn. Fading in and out of their back and forth as I question my own sanity.