Chapter 7

SEVEN

Placing Brett’s phone back onto the nightstand I hurry over to sit on the edge of his bed. Big mistake on his part having no passcode because it makes it too easy to get into. Plus, it gives me the opportunity to mess with Colson a little more, which I’m starting to realize has become a bit of an obsession. I can’t help it. There’s just something about seeing a big, strong, man get all bent out of shape because a woman is giving him a taste of his own condescending medicine that makes me excited. Fuck, I feel a pulse between my thighs just thinking about it. When he comes knocking on Brett’s half-open door, he’ll be forced to watch what he can’t have. He’ll be seething.

It’s immature, but I don’t care. As long as I’m being forced to play the role of Brett’s girlfriend, I need to have a little fun. And if that means that screwing with the hot loose cannon is the only option for entertainment, so fucking be it.

With a Cheshire grin, I raise my hand, flexing my pointed index finger in Brett’s direction.

“Come here,” I breathe.

He stumbles over, positioning himself between my spread legs.

Reaching for his belt, I loosen the buckle, speeding up when I hear Colson’s footsteps scuff against the marble steps. An exhilarating surge settles in my core as I keep my gaze on the sliver of hallway that’s visible, anticipating Colson filling the gap any minute.

“Damn, baby, you’re really hungry, aren’t you?” Brett mumbles against the glass tipped to his lips.

I’m not sure hungry is the correct word, but horny and determined to put on a little show before I get on with my night? Absolutely.

Brett’s pants fall to the floor, pooling around his ankles, just as the floorboards out in the hallway creak beneath Colson’s weight.

Another creek sounds, though this time the doorway is no longer empty. Icy gray eyes cast a jealous glare around the room as I look past the base of his brother’s cock and directly into Colson’s face.

Unblinking, we both just focus on the other as if this is a heated game of chess – though with the hostility that exists between us, a game of Russian Roulette would be more accurate. Risky and deadly.

The earthy scent of weed mixed with his spiced cologne fills the space between us. Even with the distance, the way his body fills the threshold of the door, he draws a fervent rush of warmth to my core.

I draw Brett’s erect cock into my mouth. My cheeks hollow, sucking in his length until the tip hits the back of my throat. I keep it there, teasing him.

“Fuck,” he groans, bucking his hips forward. My eyes water, forcing a tear to trickle down my cheek while he continues to press himself deeper into my mouth.

Keeping my eyes on Colson, I continue to glide my mouth up and down his brother’s shaft, humming and moaning as my lips maintain their suction. He hates it. Every fucking second of it yet, he isn’t turning away. Instead, the cocky bastard lifts his large hand, and presses it against one side of the doorway, leaning into it.

Well, if he wants to stay for the show, might as well give him one. Letting out an over-the-top moan, I whine against Brett’s dick. Brett pistons his hips, driving his length to the edge of my tonsils, making my eyes water more. I shift my head to keep eye contact with Colson, but I don’t give up on the pace I’m sucking Brett’s dick with. Not one bit. The more I open my throat for Brett, the more the invisible green plumes of jealousy practically ooze out of Colson’s every pore. Still, he doesn’t move; he remains with arm extended out on the wood until he tires of that position and leans his shoulder on the doorway. His hands slip into his pockets. The slight pull of the fabric from his concealed hands highlights his growing bulge, drawing my eyes to it.

A flustered sigh breaks the silence, pulling my concentration from his dick, which from the looks of it, is even larger than his brother’s. Fuck me.

My watery gaze moves back to Colson’s face, only to be met with a shit-eating grin. It’s not playful in the slightest. It’s downright sinful…menacing. Even disguised as a grin, the hatred spills from him in waves, threatening to drown us both.

That hatred. That twisted thing that existed between us, equal parts as petty as it is downright toxic, fuels me. Parting my legs, I run my hand up my thigh at a snail’s pace, forcing Colson’s eyes to where my bare, wet pussy teasingly awaits him.

Thankfully Brett is too drunk and way too distracted with his impending orgasm to notice the little game his brother and I are playing. The floorboards creak beneath Colson’s feet again as he takes a step back. He wants to leave but he can’t. He’s right where I want him. Trapped under my spell.

I gag as I force Brett deeper in my throat. The tightness causes him to release a boisterous moan. I keep him there and return that moan with one of my own as I move the slit of my dress further to the side giving his brother a better view of my exposed center.

That arrogance Colson wears like a goddamn badge of honor withers. His fists, no longer in his pants pockets, tighten. Anger surges through the sea of veins that cover his hands, making them bulge almost as much as the vein on the side of his forehead is.

Such a sore loser.

Still choking on Brett’s dick, I spread my bent leg wider. Thankful that this is not the leg with my garter, I crawl my fingers up my thighs, gliding them near my pussy.

Each time I make a pass closer to where my arousal is leaking past my slit, I see the hostility in Colson’s eyes change from just anger to vexed desire.

His tongue swipes at his lips before he captures it, kneading it with his teeth.

A fleeting fantasy invades my thoughts, wishing that tongue was buried between my thighs instead of being wasted over there. I let my mind roam free with images of his scruffy jawline scratching at my inner thighs as he devours me. I know this whole game was meant to torture him, but fuck, I’m the one who’s suffering and in desperate need of release.

Dipping my finger into my plump, warm walls a moan erupts from my occupied lips, vibrating against Brett’s shaft. Again, he bucks, appreciating the tight, rhythmic hold my mouth has on him, but at this point, with Colson’s unwavering presence, I could care less if Brett notices. I like being watched and right now I just need to get off.

I widen my bent leg, angling my hips out and to the side to give Colson’s hungry eyes something to feast on. I watch his gaze trail my movements and even with Brett obstructing Colson’s full view of my wet pussy, he’s able to see enough that his tongue swipes at his lips, sending a surge of electricity through my entire body.

With Colson feeding my vision, vile and delicious thoughts consume my mind along with the desperate lust I have for him. The strumming of my own fingers becomes a pleasurable tease, driving me insane. I need more. I need him, filling my mouth, my pussy, any fucking hole or all of them. This feral desire I have for him drives a wanton rush to my digits as I quicken the pace I am fucking myself, while my mouth is occupied by his dumbass brother. But all I care about is coming with Colson watching me.

I’m so close.

But my bubble bursts when that grin remerges on Colson’s face. This time, it’s not a lustful grin, it’s a ‘joke’s on you grin’. I nearly jump out of my skin when Brett groans above me, his hand tangling in my hair.

“Fuck, I’m almost there,” he mewls, forcing himself to the hilt of my mouth, and that’s all it takes for Colson to leave.

Disappointment flutters in my chest, as I swallow Brett’s salty release, all while killing the peak of my own. I’m so preoccupied with Colson’s lack of presence that I almost don’t notice the way the stiff blonde wig has shifted from Brett palming the top of my head. Removing my hand from between my legs, I recenter my wig while Brett catches his breath.

Working through the throbbing pressure at my pussy, I direct all my frustration to what needs to be done now that I can focus again. Excitedly, I reach for the syringe tucked in my garter. It’s not even out of the lace for more than a few seconds before I jam it in Brett’s femoral artery. He barely has any time to react before he crashes to the ground, his erect cock bobbing about as he falls.

This likely isn’t the way he wanted to ride the lingering waves of his orgasm, but he should consider himself fortunate because I could’ve easily slit his throat instead. But blood’s a bitch to clean up and Carmine insisted we keep him alive for the time being.

What a letdown.