Chapter 3
Kip
Britney is annoying as hell. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this fucking grift if I have to pamper her spoiled ass much more.
Since I refuse to do anything sexual with the omegas, I’m stuck doing other menial tasks. Manicures, pedicures, facial masks, bubble baths,et ceteraandad nauseum. Britney always has something new for me to do, so I rarely get a moment to myself.
Kaden doesn’t care who he does what with, so he gets massage duty. Sometimes that includes the stereotypical “happy ending,” but that’s my brother’s business.
I wouldn’t do something like that to Mags.
Okay, so Mags doesn’t seem to realize that I exist as a male. She’s so focused on running these grifts and getting us to the next paycheck that sex doesn’t register on her radar.
It would be nice if it did register though.
“Hey! Beta boy! My bath water is getting cold.”
I grit my teeth and force a smile before I turn around. “Sorry, Miss Grady. I’ll freshen it up for you.”
She’s going to get all pruny. I hope Nik likes pruny women.
I add some warmer water to the bathtub, but before I can even turn back around to give her more privacy, she snaps at me again.
“The bubbles are all gone. Bring me a bath bomb. The mint one.”
Mint bath bomb for the chocolate-scented omega. Got it.
Mags walks in carrying a load of warm towels and a fresh set of clothes for Britney to wear after her bath. Wait … it looks like too big of a pile for one set of clothes. Is Mags bringing her options?
Spoiled. Fucking. Brat.
Since Mags has Britney distracted, I busy myself with cleaning up the bath area. The damn omega likes to splash water everywhere, so it takes several towels to mop it all up. Not the towels Mags brought, of course; those are for Britney. I have to use towels specifically set aside for cleaning.
As I’m bending over near the tub to wipe yet another splash, a wetsmackresounds in the bathroom as Britney slaps my ass.
Oh, hell no!
I’d complain, but Mags is already on it.
“Miss Grady, apologies, but Kip isn’t that twin. He doesn’t engage with the omegas.”
Britney pouts and waves her hand, sending more water flying. “Oh, who can even tell? They’re both tall with brown hair and eyes and tight asses. What’s the difference?”
“The difference,” Mags says, with all the class one can muster in this situation, “is that Kip’s contract does not allow for this type of contact. He’s here to help you get ready for your heat, but he’s not here for ass smacks or anything of the sort.”
Our mark rolls her eyes. “Fine. I won’t smack his ass. Bring in the other twin, then. I need a massage.”
Whew! Saved by Mags.
As I’m leaving to get fresh cleaning towels, I hear Britney’s shouted words:
“Make sure the virgin wears white, so I can tell the fucking difference!”
Not that Mags ever said I was a virgin, but that isn’t the point. Britney is a fucking bitch. I’m glad Kaden has to deal with her now instead of me. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll ban me from the job.
I run into Nik in the hallway on my way to the linen closet. He’s wearing a tight pair of jeans and a button-down shirt that looks like it’s about to lose a few buttons. If he so much as raises his arm or flexes even a little, those suckers are gonna pop right off. The sleeves are rolled up, which seems weird. Since Britney’s heat is fast approaching, the Gradys have the air conditioning cranked to the max for her comfort.
“What’s with the sleeves?” I ask. “Aren’t you cold?”
