“The Bardots,” I finish her thoughts for her. “Your grandmother, her husband. The man who she married.” I won’t refer to him as Scarlett’s grandfather because he’s nothing like the woman before me. But then again, neither is Grace. Perhaps only in her fiery personality. But other than that, Grace is nothing more than a two-faced pawn in a game she thought she could win.
“I’m sorry.” Scarlett finally falls apart, and she does it in my arms as the door swings open and Darius walks in. His gaze lands on our embrace, and I can’t help but smile. Satisfaction courses through me, but deep down, just for a moment, I wonder what it would feel like for her to have us both.
Would I be jealous, or would pride surge through me at seeing my wife take my brother?
“I’m guessing our little one has confessed the truth about her family,” Darius says as he nears the table, settling in beside Scarlett. “What do you say, brother?” he asks, looking at me, and I can tell he’s fighting not to look at my wife.
She’s gotten under his skin. The tough exterior he portrays is nothing more than a façade. I see that, and so does he. For years I was convinced he hated me, but the truth of the matter is, Darius is the same teenage boy who ran away from home the moment he could.
He always hated the fact that there was a family business to run. He didn’t want to walk in Dad’s shoes, whereas I thought it was an honor. For a long time, we kept in touch, while I was becoming more like our father every day. Hell, we even had our fun at Heaven when it was nothing more than a one roomed club.
But then it happened.
The murder we never spoke about.
And the truth that hung over both our heads is what broke us apart.
“I’ll do it.” My words are confident, filled with the threat that the Bardots will pay for killing our father, and Scarlett shakes in my arms as she cries, but she doesn’t release me.
“I never wanted it to come to this,” Darius admits. “I wanted us to be the Shaw brothers.” The regret in his tone is what stills me for a long moment as I regard my brother. It’s been so long since we actually spent time together, since we spoke like adults.
Scarlett brought us together.
She mended my family.
While hers wrenched us apart.
The bedroom is lovely. Even though my brother’s compound is nothing more than a house with bikers who lie around, fucking the whores who walk in here expecting a good time. He’s built something from nothing.
Just like I did.
Scarlett’s lying beside me, but she hasn’t spoken since we came upstairs. When Darius escorted us to one of the many guest rooms, she glanced at a door at the end of the hall which I’m convinced is the bedroom he kept her in. His bedroom.
“Are you attracted to him?” I ask and I feel her still. My body cocoons hers, so there’s no movement I won’t notice. “I won’t be mad at you.”
“Did you really share women with him before?” she asks, lifting her head to look at me. Her fingertips still trail my chest, my stomach, and when she reaches the dips on my hips, she teases them, making sure my cock jolts with need.
“I did.” I affirm, knowing she deserves the truth. “It was a long time ago. But he would enjoy being with you.”
“You want to share me?” The shock is clear in her voice, her eyes wide as she regards me. But I don’t answer. Instead, I watch her for a long moment. “Do you?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell her honestly. “There’s no doubt he would and could make you feel good and perhaps having both of us will dull that fire for a time. I would love to see you taken and used, like you want,” I whisper, allowing my hand to caress her shoulder, down her spine, causing a shiver to wrack through her. “He enjoys humiliation, he likes to see women bow for him, break under his touch.”
I’m taunting her. She enjoys the darkness as much as I do. And perhaps, this would show her part of the world she’s so new to. Maybe she’ll see what’s out there. The risk of her wanting him over me is there. It’s always been that way when Darius and I have had the same woman.
A ring and a vow don’t matter when it comes to the bitter truth of knowing that someone doesn’t truly love you. Call it a test. I’m a bastard for even suggesting this. But I need to know where her head is at.
“Tell me, little red,” I coo, tugging her up so she’s straddling my now hard cock. Her heat against me, warming every inch of me. “Would you like to feel so full that you can’t think straight?” I arch a dark brow at her, noting how her irises dilate at my words. “Can you imagine your body being so utterly used by two men, four hands, two thick cocks, that you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t even speak?” Her hips roll against me, undulating as she finds the friction she needs against my throbbing cock. “If you’re going to do that, you better make sure my cock is deep in that little cunt of yours,” I warn her, and she quickly moves to slip my erection inside her body. The heat of her pulsing around me, has my eyes rolling back.