Page 167 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

"Yes, my angel," he says, putting down the salted spoon and returning to his own loaf.

"He's going to crack the shits when he tastes that."

"I have no idea what you're referring to." He doesn't even glance up. "I told you no one was going to eat his banana bread."

I laugh and grab a spoonful of the frosting he's already working on and fling it at him.

He simply opens his mouth and catches it, then grabs me around the waist and pulls me in against him, kissing me and gently letting the frosting melt into my mouth, his lips warm against me, the frosting silken and sweet on my tongue.

Then he whispers, "I made extra, so I can lick it off your sweet cunt when we're done."

Damn.

Once the other two are done working off their excess energy, I help them tidy up before they each make an un-sabotaged loaf. Rhys insists he didn't do anything to Zachary's, that Zachary was ruining it all on his own.

Marcus's loaf goes in lopsided and overfilled but comes out still tasting divine. Zachary's, against all possible odds and with an alarming amount of hands-on assistance, actually looks like banana bread, and he's so genuinely proud of it that he catches my hand as I walk back and forth collecting dirty dishes, making me stop and to admire it, thumb brushing my knuckles a beat longer than the moment needs.

Rhys's is... Rhys's. Perfect in every way. It takes two minutes for the other two to attack it with their forks.

"Oh — before I forget." Marcus says it too casually, sliding another tray into the oven. "Contractor's coming Thursday. About the new level."

I go still. "The what?"

Zachary shoots him a look sharp enough to cut glass. "We were going to tell her properly. With, I don't know, a reveal."

"It slipped out." Marcus doesn't look remotely sorry.

"Oh well, too late now. We're building up," Rhys says, resigned now that the surprise is half-blown anyway. "Extra level. It'll be your area. A bedroom and work area, and a proper balcony."

"Really?" I say, not wanting them to hear the excitement in my voice at the thought of having my own area in the house. I've been taking turns sharing their rooms now that Leon's reclaimed his. And as much as I love sleeping with them, I like the idea of having a space that's mine. I'd floated the idea of getting my own place. But my eardrums are still recovering from how loudly they'd reacted to that.

"Figured you should have somewhere of your own in this house too," Marcus says, "not including the little reading alcove we're building you in the garden, like your dad made for you."

I don't trust myself to say anything back to that, so I don't try. I just pull them in one by one, whispering how much they mean to me.

And I mean it. I might not have promised myself to just one of them, but somehow, all three of them own all of me.

They're mine, and I'm forever theirs.

Chatbox: Housemaaaaaates 2.0

Marcus:

So I have some news

Alexia:

Uh-oh.

Marcus:

Nothing to worry about, babygirl. It's a good thing.

[image attached]

Leon:

WTF. Why is that rat all stretched out? Is something wrong with your camera?