Page 70 of Deceit

Invite a bitch to your family birthday party and walk in on her deep throating your brother’s dick in your childhood bedroom.

I mean, why would we pick the bathroom with a lock or maybehisroom.

Blue keeps striking out with me left and right, literally fucking me over with the men in my life.

“Does it involve your lips wrapped around my dick or you talking me to death?”

You see, I never can fully read this asshole.

One moment it appears that he loathes me. The next, he wants to fuck my brains out, and my body is cheering the idea on with pom pops and a full marching band.

“My Wushu Whip chain.”

“Choking was never a fetish of mine, but I’ll try anything at least once with you, Ems.” His chest presses into mine but gently, attempting to erase why I should be annoyed with him. “Just tell me when. It’ll more than likely be the last time you get fucked good in your life.”

“Who says I can’t do it all by myself? I don’t need a man to make me come.”

Bishop’s lips curl. “Now, you’re just being a tease.” His hand latches around my waist, searing the skin underneath. “Come inside and eat, and we’ll talk about a plan.”

I shake my head and take a step back, crossing my arms over my chest to protect me from everythinghim.

The push and pull effect that I get from Bish is exhausting. I came back here as a favor because he’s family, not someone who belongs to me. I need to start hammering it into my brain more and more. Maybe tattoo it in my palm so I can look down at it every time I catch myself drooling.

“I already have one,” I assert confidently.

“And I don’t like the sound of it.”

“Kace,” chimes a small voice behind him. He doesn’t turn around, but I don’t require him to because it’s a female and not Scarlett. “Lunch is set up.”

“I’m coming,” he deadpans, gaze still honed in on me.

If he wants a staring contest, he picked the wrong one, two older brothers—need I say more?

“Text me when you’re—”

“Why would I need to text you when you’re right here?” he challenges with a raised brow. “Don’t you like spending time with me, wife?”

“No,” I reply flatly. “I don’t.”

“But she enjoys time with me,” Marty replies, wrapping a warm arm around my shoulder. “Don’t ya, Emmy Lou?”

I attempt to shrug him off, but he squeezes me into his body. “Not really.”

“Awww…” Mills chimes in, clasping my hand and lacing his fingers with mine. “I know I’m your favorite but—” He lowers his voice to a loud whisper. “—we promised we wouldn’t tell the others.”

“Would you get off me?” I roll my shoulder and yank at my hand, but both men stay put despite my growing frustration.

“Welcome home,” Bishop muses before stepping aside. “You’re eating lunch with your loving family.”

I can’t be the only one in this house to feel the tension. I mean, literally, it’s suffocating and uncomfortable, clogging my throat as I try to eat.

And I’m not talking about how Kyson and Mills are sandwiching me in between them, but because the blonde known as Camilla hasn’t stopped studying me like a piece of shit on her shoe.

We’re all eating hamburgers. The boys are too busy stuffing their faces while Scarlett talks about howcoolit is that we all work together and are helping Bishop “clean their mother’s trailer”.

I don’t know what the hell that means, but I’m taking a wild shot in the dark that she has no clue what her brother does nor what we do, for that matter.

So, instead of being the person to break the news, I nod and smile at her comments.

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