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I jump out of my clothes, saying absolutely fucking nothing. I click off the light and crawl in beside her as she watches me quietly. I slip her panties off, and my fingers find the slickness of her arousal. I kiss her neck and face and she opens herself up to me, enjoying my lips on her skin just as much as I enjoy tasting her.

“Are you ready for me?” I ask her. I always need to be sure.

“Micah,” she moans as I slip my tongue inside her mouth. I’m not interested in talking but hearing my name gets me off more than anything. She meets my lips with hers, and once I get her nice and wet, I wrap it up and press myself inside her.

She arches her back and meets my thrusts, wrapping her legs around me. Fuck, she feels good—too good. It’s like an addiction.

I’m only mildly irritated thinking if she’d have been this eager for Maison, too, if it were him right now instead of me. The party is still raging outside, and I don’t give a shit. There is nowhere else I’d rather be than fucking my brother’s girlfriend in his bed while she moans my name.

More or less with his blessing.

I fuck her twice before I leave—again, not saying a word to her and slip down the hall to my room. After a few minutes, I hear her moans again through the vents as Maison finishes her off. I turn to my side, close my eyes, and sleep like a fucking baby.

Chapter Five

This is how it goes.

On the surface and in the daylight hours, she is with Maison. She’s Maison’s shiny new toy, and his first real girlfriend. My mom is over the moon excited for them and completely dotes on her. My parents treat her as if she’s some national treasure and they are the most spectacular couple in the world.

Maison has finally committed. The golden boy, the easy twin. I ignore the side comments from my mom about how she wishes I’d find someone, too, when the fact of the matter is she’s equally mine in the way I need her most.

She spends almost every night here now. My mom says she’s fine with it since we are adults now, and she seems to adore Olivia, or at least the version Olivia wants her to see. If you ask me, it’s fucking weird. She has her claws so deep on Maison. They are together constantly.

Late at night, and I mean fucking late, she always crawls in with me. Not every night, but most nights. In the darkest hours of the night, she is usually mine. She picks her spots, but I make sure I am always there, waiting for her like a fucking loser. Sometimes I’m asleep already, other times she crawls in, and I wake up to her lips wrapped around my dick.

Either way, it’s the time of day I anticipate the most. I get my release, and Maison gets to deal with the emotional shit that comes with having a girlfriend.

We barely speak; we just fuck. She’s insatiable and psycho, which I love. In public, we usually act like we can’t stand each other, even though she owns me, and she fucking knows it. If Maison knows what we are doing, he doesn’t say anything. I’m not even sure he cares. He’s getting his dick sucked daily, too.

She’s always gone in the morning back with him when I wake up, acting like it didn’t even fucking happen. I always get my best sleep when she leaves. It’s the only time I can sleep.

Tonight, we are seated around my parents’ extravagant dining room table for our mandatory Sunday dinner. The size of our dining table is ridiculous, given there are usually just four of us, but my mom likes to bask in her elegance.

The table seats sixteen people, and Olivia plants herself right across from me and next to Maison.

“Micah.” My mom’s voice shrills from across the table. I’ve barely spoken a word as they talk about my mom’s upcoming charity event. I’ve kept my head down all supper, avoiding Olivia’s gaze. Plus, I despise the small talk family shit.

“Micah!” My mom’s voice escalates.

I whip my head up as annoyance cuts through my chest. “What?”

Her eyes are glued on me from the head of the table. “Did you hear what I just asked you? I asked if you are planning on bringing someone to the gala?”

Everyone is staring at me now, and Olivia’s eyes cut right through me.

I shrug. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll ask Naomi Wilson.”

It’s a joke. They know she’s dating Ezra, who will also likely be at the gala. I’ve already decided I’m not going to this stupid party.

My mom narrows her eyes. “Isn’t that girl dating Ezra?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. It’s not like they’re married.”

My mom dips her chin, giving me the disappointed look I’m used to with her. “Be nice, Micah,” she says, as she takes a bite of her roasted carrots. “Naomi is a nice girl, and you really need to find your way with Ezra. Your father has too many business dealings with that family.”

So, I’m always reminded. Be nice to Ezra … got it.

My mom continues. “I had lunch with Naomi’s mom today. Poor woman … ever since her affair with Charles King, she really hasn’t been able to pull herself together.”