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While everyone living here has a code that unlocks that door 24/7, there are people who don’t live here with their own codes to use during designated days or times. For example, the code for the dry cleaners only works on Friday mornings, meanwhile delivery drivers and the house cleaners get codes my mom or I have to activate.

As far as I know, no other codes were activated tonight.

“Parents?” Khaos whispers.

“No.” They’re not due back until Sunday. Which, I guess, is tomorrow.

“Guy?”

He would’ve texted me.

I start to shake my head, then stop. Shit. I left my phone in my room. And he uses my code.

My heart picking up the pace, I run my fingers up the back of my head, dragging my nails along the scalp like I’m ploughing a field.

Is it Guy?

Khaos reaches past my shoulder to close the door, locking it just as quietly.

The light’s still on. Whoever it is will know someone’s in here.

“But—”

Another shush.

We listen to the footfalls disappear down the hall, then return a moment later.

“Kota?”

It is Guy. He’s going to catch us.

We’re not even doing anything wrong but he’s going to think the worst and he’ll leave me for good.

I can barely hear over my heartbeat when I turn for the door, scrambling to piece an alibi together in my head.

Khaos latches on to my elbow, spinning me back to him so our fronts are only inches apart, his face bearing down on mine.

My swallow echoes around us as he lowers his head, closing the distance.

I feel pressure on my pussy, my thin briefs the only thing keeping Khaos’s fingers from entering my suddenly aching center. He’s so close yet nowhere near close enough.

Wrong! my brain screams at me. This is wrong! I’m not supposed to want him any closer. I’m not supposed to want him, period. Even if he doesn’t feel “brotherly” toward me, that’s exactly what he is, and—and!—I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who’s literally right outside the door.

Unfortunately, my body doesn’t seem too concerned about any of that as it teeters, leaning into the forbidden touch because it desperately wants more. From Khaos.

Our mouths mere millimeters away from each other, all I can do is part my lips, my body in complete control now.

Khaos eyes them on his descent.

At the last second, he dips to my ear instead, rasping against the shell, “This is mine.”

Protest. Disagree. Tell him no, it’s not. Nothing about me is his.

Ice-cold silence sits on my tongue. No fight from me at all. Because the claim sounds wrong but feels right.

Another brush of his knuckles along my clit causes air to rush into the lungs I’ve been denying for who knows how long.

Working quickly, efficiently, Khaos lifts my hoodie up and over my head, leaving me in nothing but my briefs and T-shirt.