If the Elders ever found out what we wanted to do to Keith Graystone’s stepdaughter, well, let’s just say that he wouldn’t care that she’s his family. Orders are orders, and so is punishment, and we couldn’t risk anything happening to her. It was that fear that forced us to distance ourselves from her, and when we were younger, it was the only choice we had. They'd have seen her as a distraction, and because she wasn't a blood legacy, they wouldn't have thought twice about removing her from the equation altogether, if not for any other reason than to show us that they’re the ones in charge.
If Keith had taken one look at any of us, he would have noticed we were head over fucking heels in love with Bailey, and we couldn’t risk it. We had to walk away. And there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think about it.
About her.
“Do you know why she’s here?” Cole mutters quietly, his brows are furrowed, and his forest-green eyes are fixed on the controller in his hand, but his character has been dead for about five minutes, and he’s made zero attempt at reviving himself.
“Harley cheated on her,” Roman replies matter-of-factly, and now I’m fucking perplexed, because who in their right frame of mind would want anyone else if they have Bailey as their girlfriend? Cole’s head snaps up, and I can tell by his clenched jaw that he’s grindinghis molars, enraged at the fact that someone would ever dream of hurting our girl.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Cole growls. I haven’t seen him get this worked up so fast in a long time. If there’s one thing we’ve learned in our world, it's that patience really is a virtue. Otherwise, one of us will probably end up dead.
It’s no secret that Harley Philips is an absolute fuckhead, and we thought that it was only a matter of time before Bailey dumped him and found someone who could actually please her in ways she truly deserved. Which, now that I think about it, would be a bit of a fucking challenge because nobody could satisfy her like we could.
We’d unravel all her darkest fantasies buried so deep within her that no one but us could ever reach them. If we had her, she’d be begging for us to taint her, corrupt her, craving for us to claim every inch of her—mind, body, and fucking soul—until her only waking thoughts are of us.
Bailey is all temptress and vixen, and I’d give anything to have every one of her greedy fucking holes stuffed with all of our cocks. I’m basically a dead man walking because we can’t do any of those things, and that’s why we swore to each other that we’d keep our distance. All of this to say, her being in our house is aHuge. Fucking. Problem.
“Who the fuck cares? It’s none of our goddamnbusiness, Colton,” Roman mutters, and it only pisses me off.
“Uh, we do, asshole.” I seethe, because who the hell is he trying to fool? We’ve been looking out for her since our first year of college, and if he thinks I’m going to stop now, he’s fucking dreaming.
“Look. Did I expect her to show up at our doorstep? No. But I didn’t say no and force her to sleep on the porch in the cold, did I? Which means, you both have to get your shit together and act somewhat normal, got it?” He’s right. If he didn’t care, she wouldn’t be here. As much as it pains him to have her this close, knowing she can never fully be ours, he still let her in anyway.
Silence fills the space between us, and I focus on nothing but the faint sound of Bailey’s shower as I stare blankly at the TV.
“Who did he cheat on her with? I'm gonna fucking kill that rat-faced cunt.” This comes from Cole, and Roman’s eyes narrow into slits, understanding that Cole will probably plan some diabolical scheme to retaliate, and that would only result in speculation we can’t afford from the Elders.
“Her roommate,” Roman sighs, defeated, probably figuring that there really is no stopping Colton from doing literally anything he wants once his mind is made up.
“What!?” Cole whisper-yells, and Roman shoots him a warning glare that not even I would dismiss. “Thatpiece of shit fucked Chloe? Is he fuckin’ stupid? Bailey is the best thing that asshole has ever had in his life, and Chloe is such a fucking bitch, I swear–”
“Enough, Colton!” Roman snaps, interrupting Cole’s meltdown before the gentle patter of Bailey’s footfalls fills the room. I bite my tongue and resume our game before her soft, angelic voice rings over my heartbeat, racing loudly in my ears.
“I am so sorry, I had to use somebody's towel. I couldn't find any clean ones in the bathroom, and by the time I realized there weren't any, I had already showered. Would someone mind showing me where your laundry is?” We all look up to see Bailey holding Roman's towel, and it takes all that I have not to smirk, because I can feel his cock harden from over here. My eyes snap to him for a brief second, curious to see how he’ll react, and if looks could burn, our girl would be fucking ash.
I shift my gaze back to Bailey, not bothering to make it less obvious that I'm staring. It’s hard not to when she looks this delicious.
Her long, hot-pink hair is wet from the shower, clinging to her smooth, delicate skin, and my eyes drop to her small, white tank top, almost fucking see-through from the dampness of her hair, and fuck my miserable life, she’s not wearing a bra. I catch the indent of her pierced nipples through the thin fabric,clinging to her petite frame, and if this girl didn't have me before, she sure as fuck has me now.
Our little darling likes to play dirty.
Bailey is unlike any other girl I’ve ever known. Beautiful, smart, and fuck is she a force to be reckoned with. She could shatter you with just one glance from those wild, honey-colored eyes, and piece you back together with nothing more than a smile. Bailey is both destruction and salvation, and we’ve been on our fucking knees for years begging—no, praying for the chance to own her like she owns us. But life got in the way, and we can never be, not without risking the only thing that matters to us.
She’s the epitome of all the good that's left in this sick and twisted fucking world, everything that we’re not. The problem is, we’d only pull her into our darkness until it devours her whole like it did us. And even though a big part of me wants that, to tarnish her with our madness until she’s just as depraved as we are, she deserves better than to be dragged into our bullshit.
Yet, I won't pretend that I don't notice the glint in her eyes that makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, she wants a taste of that madness. But if she ever did, once she crosses that line, there's no going back, because just like Roman and Colton, once I claim her, once we all claim her,she's fucking ours.
I sit back and watch as Roman rises to his feet and leaves the living room with Bailey hot on his heels. Imust be a fucking masochist because all I can think about is how right this feels. The two loves of my life, doing something as mundane as laundry in our house that, up until now, has never truly felt like home.
God,I have to cut it the fuck out, because I’m only hurting myself.
If Cole and I feel this way, and judging by his solemn expression, he does, then Roman must feel this way too. Only for him, it’s probably worse. Out of the three of us, he’s the one who pushes Bailey away the most, given that she's his stepsister and all. But her being here is only going to fuck with his head, because he still wants her, oath be damned. It was written all over his face when she stepped out of the shower, and fuck if it wasn’t intoxicating watching his walls on the brink of crumbling from all that longing and sexual tension between them.
If she keeps looking at him the way she did tonight, as if she’s torn between her instinct to run and the craving to be caught by him, it's only a matter of time before his resolve completely shatters. Giving in to the forbidden temptation that is Bailey Asher. And when he does, that's when he’ll need us the most.
CHAPTER THREE
BAILEY
