Page 79 of Chase

Needing to move on from the heartache her words trigger, I move faster, thrusting forward hard. Her fingers grab my hair, pulling my head back as I move. She takes my mouth hard, her tongue diving deep. It feels like she’s marking me as I claim her with my cock.

“Come for me, Russ,” she says, her breath catching on each word. “Fill me up like a good boy so there will be part of you in me for longer. Show me I’m your girl.”

I slam her hard against the glass, pushing my dick as deep as it can go. She screams as her body erupts, her pussy clamping tight, demanding I give her what she wants. My cock jerks on her command, and I empty myself fully, the relief of finally having enjoyed her the way I wanted mixed with sadness. I stay inside her as long as I possibly can in an attempt to burn this amazing feeling into my mind, so it will be forever remembered.

I carry her over toward the daybed, stepping out of the water with her wrapped around my body. I lay her down, then grab a blanket from the stack folded by the side of the bed before joining her and covering us both.

We lie beside one another, breathing in unison, unspeaking. When I glance over, she’s smiling, her eyes fixed on the white canopy above. My heart sinks; I know I need to have the conversation my brother and I agreed would happen. The one we discussed would take place as soon as Samantha and I took the step to being sexual.

“Trouble,” I say softly

“Uh-huh.”

“We need to talk. Now we’ve had sex, we need to discuss what this means for us all.” She rolls onto her side and then props herself up on her elbow. Her expression changes from relaxed to uncertain.

“What is there to talk about?” she asks, a quiver in her tone. “We were always going to have sex.”

“Today, like you said, marks the beginning of the end.” I attempt to keep my tone calm but even I sense the nerves in my voice.

“Stop speaking in riddles, Russ. Fucking tell me what you’re on about.” She scowls, annoyed by my evasive words.

“Connor and I agreed once your and my relationship progressed to this stage that…” I stop speaking, my concerns getting the better of me. She’s going to be furious we made this decision without her, but both my brother and I needed a plan, a boundary as to when we would be released from this love triangle. We needed to know it would end and that one of us would win.

“You mean when we had sex,” she states.

“Yes. We agreed that would start a clock on when you were to choose.” Her features fall in horror. Pain flashes in her eyes, betrayal staring me in the face.

“You never thought to discuss this with me?” Her pitch is high and her words rapid.

“We agreed this was best, and that it would allow both relationships to progress as naturally as possible,” I attempt to explain, but the look she gives me tells me that it’s not accepted. “You were always going to have to choose, Trouble. Neither Connor nor I have said differently.”

She rolls onto her back and stares blankly up at the canopy again. There’s no smile or warm feeling now. “How long do I have?” she says sullenly, all the fun of what we shared evaporating with each syllable.

“Three months. You have ninety days to decide which of us you want to keep.”

Chapter thirty-one

The Estate, Buckinghamshire

September 2023

Samantha

Sitting at the dressing table in my hotel suite, I watch the second hand on my new Omega tick around the gold face. I hold my wrist to the light and watch the tiny diamonds around the edge twinkle. It’s a stunning piece of jewelry, and I was taken aback when Connor presented it to me earlier today.

The arrangements to celebrate my turning twenty-eight had been complex. My request to spend the day with both my boyfriends fell on deaf ears. There had been huge debates over who would get to spend more time with me and, more importantly, whose bed I would be in that night. Eventually, I devised my own solution with the help of their sister—spend it with neither of them. It hadn’t gone down well.

Last night, I insisted on staying at my own apartment. Mia was surprised to see me, as I’m rarely home anymore. My nights are spent split between the penthouse and floor fifty-seven of The Level. There’s rarely a reason to be in my own bed.

But knowing I needed to choose between them in a matter of weeks, it felt important to get some space. My actions needed to not give either man the wrong idea or make anyone think I had already made a decision. Because I haven’t. Right now, I have no idea who or if I’ll pick anyone.

Earlier today, I agreed to meet Russell and Connor at a small coffee shop in Canary Wharf. The place is stuck in the 1950s, with wood-paneled walls and cabinets filled with cakes. The two men looked completely out of place in their designer suits, sitting on red leather-effect chairs surrounded by tradesmen in their boilersuits. But you get the best carrot cake in town here, and it was my birthday, so they had to do as I requested. Their Earl Grey tea and Scottish shortbread would have to wait.

With a few days booked off work, Violet and I had plans to go out to celebrate. At two in the afternoon, I was dressed for a night on the town. My overnight bag was already packed at my feet for our subsequent hotel night and spa the next day to recover from what, no doubt, would be terrible hangovers. I was meeting my friend immediately after leaving her brothers.

As I entered, two sets of dark eyes turned to me. They both widened when I smoothed the fitted black bodycon dress I wore. The sun still warmed the air as summer turned toward autumn, but my short denim jacket provided a little extra protection as I made eye contact with them.

Both men stood on my approach. Russell placed his hand on my hip then leaned down to kiss my cheek, and Connor repeated the action on the opposite side. I smiled at them, loving having them both there with me. It was a situation I don’t get to enjoy often. Since our countdown began, their incessant peacocking has become worse. I feel like a pawn in the center of a game that’s been played for decades to decide which brother is most successful.

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