Page 80 of The Twins

“You and Vegas making out in the car, that’s an image I can’t quite forget,” I tell her, and she blushes. I can feel still her legs quiver from how hard Vegas made her come on the road to Tara’s birthday party. She’s a flustered kitten, and I’m here to calm her down. Pinch. Sting. Squeeze. Tease.

Until I want to take advantage of my kitten, and I take it too goddamn far.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly replies.

“I’m not that soft,” I tell her. Vegas looks over to us, and I hold his inquisitive gaze. He doesn’t give a fuck how much I touch Grey. She could ignore the fucker for a week, and he’d smirk and charm her upon her return. He’s free like that. He doesn’t overthink. “He thinks I hate it when you two touch each other, but I’m not stupid. I’m aware of our arrangement.”

“But I see your face—”

“I can’t repress the feelings of jealousy, but I know that he’s a part of you. We’re a team, aren’t we?” She nods, and I pull her closer. She’s hot to touch. Her body temperature is higher than usual. It must be her period.

Grey’s new magnolia and sandalwood scent isn’t sweet like the fruity tones I’m used to. Fuck, she screams addictive.

She screams yours. I’m yours.

I choose not to hear it because my issues run deep.

I say, “You don’t have to hide because of me. I feel it when you talk behind my back with him. It’s fine. I love you both, and I’m working on my state of mind.”

“You never have an issue with Charles,” Grey points out.

She’s a clever sneaky kitty.

“I don’t?”

“You don’t,” Grey insists. “It’s like Charles is on your permanent good side.”

“He might be,” I confess. I distract Grey by pulling up her tight dress under the table. My fingers reach her tight heat, and she gasps. “You like Tara’s kinky birthday, Grey?”

She nods, and I flick her cute pussy, creating more cream.

“What do you like about it?” I ask her, connecting my lips with that soft spot below her ear. If I moved my mouth, I could kiss her scars, but that’s not something we do in public. Any sexual play that involves her scars ends up in tears and shaking. We’re here for Tara today, and Grey wouldn’t want to sadden the birthday girl.

“Yeah, what do you like about it?” Vegas huffs, sliding into the booth. I didn’t hear my brother come over. I let my girl’s pussy go, removing my juicy fingers from her entrance. I lick them clean in front of everyone.

At the edge of the table, Charles stares at me. I swallow. Vegas is hot for his sugar puff, so he doesn’t see the exchange between Charles and me.

I look away from Charles because it’s dangerous to focus on him.

After he kisses our girl on the mouth, Vegas continues, “I find it boring. I thought we were invited to a sex party. This is as vanilla as it gets. The guy at the bar owns a puppy grooming salon.”

“I like that I’m here with you,” Grey reveals. She climbs off my lap, but she finds my hand with hers, pulling our connected fingers over her lap. She sits between Vegas and me, squirming some more. “I miss hanging out with all of you at the same time.”

“Work calls, darling,” Vegas says in a fake British accent. He butchers it on purpose, but Grey giggles, nonetheless. Vegas is much more than what he seems. Every day, he unpacks a new talent.

Long ago, envy filled me at the thought of my brother. I thoroughly believed that he was weak, a shallow jock-type of a man without direction.

Vegas has proven me wrong.

“I’m proud of you,” I blurt out, and the table grows silent. Charles’ gaze flickers on my skin, burning me inside and out. This is a big fucking step for me, and I don’t know why I blurted those words out tonight. Perhaps it’s the one year that’s passed since Grey rejoined us.

“Sorry?” Grey peers at me, tilting her head to the side in confusion. She draws her brows together, and her pretty eyes glimpse at me softly.

“Vegas,” I say.

My brother clears his throat. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.”

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