“And what if I don’t want to do either?”
“Fucking, dick, Atlanta.”
I love it when his mouth gets filthy, but right now I want him filthy with me. “Cum for me, baby.”
His moan breaks the sound barrier. Cum coats his stomach and his wet slick squelches, its musky scent hitting the room. The build of my orgasm hits me and I fill him good, pretending I’m putting our starlets in him. I’m a heathenish beast, and he’s my prize of all prizes that I’ve claimed just for me.
I leave my cock in him, resting against his cum-soaked belly, pulling his slender leg to curl around my torso. Should I say words? Do we need them?
“I love being your sullied whore, baby,” he says.
I smile against his belly, surrounded by the scent of his cum. I lick it off him. “Then I make it my solemn vow, I’m gonna keep you so dirty with me.”
CHAPTERSIX
Treyu
Watching my brother fuck is not my cup of tea. Zhang told me to stay, but we’re not getting married anymore, so fuck his dumb rules. I head in the direction of the corner store. I’ve eaten a real meal, now it’s time to succumb to my sweet tooth and gorge on tooth-rotting Earth candy.
It’s getting late. Dark clouds roll in. I wish I had my blades. At least Atlanta did bring them, but I left them in the motel. I’d remembered them mid storm-out, but I wasn’t going back and risking the view of my brother’s ass as it rocked with the motions of his hips. Seen that enough times to last me forever, thanks.
Like the cat who came back, Zhang’s shadow—which I unfortunately recognize—slides behind me as I’m trying to make my licorice selection. “Not running away, dude. Just buying my weight in sugar.”
I’m not human. I can’t get diabetes, but I can get a sugar high.
A woman with wire-rimmed glasses and curly white hair, wearing her blue-vest uniform and restocking the peanut butter cups, overhears us. “Is he bothering you, young man? I could call the police for you.”
As fun as that would be …
“No, thank you, ma’am. He just doesn’t like my sugar habit and gets real touchy about it.”
She’s not buying it. She gives Zhang a death glare. “I’m here to help if you change your mind.”
Sweet old lady. Zhang could cut her head off before she ever knew he’d pulled his sword. Could, but wouldn’t. We protect humans. Zhang especially.
Zhang waits for me to load up on junk food, and then I remember I don’t have my fucking wallet. His fault. He’s paying. “Hey, babe,” I say. “Need funding.”
Without a word, he peels several bills from his little money pouch and hands them over to the cashier.
“I told you not to leave the motel,” he says when we’re out of there.
“Mhm, technically you didn’t.” I take a hefty bite of soft licorice. The sugar hits my tongue … is it too soon to say I feel the buzz?
“You knew what I meant. I’m not a fan of skirting the rules when you know the intention.”
I shrug. “Not my problem.” Once again, the air didn’t do him any favors. I’m not stupid. I know it’s not air he needs. He needs me to stop being a shithead. That won’t happen. I figure if I’m enough of one, he’ll finally leave me alone for good.
We barrel into the motel room and get hit with the stench of sex. Ew. Our brothers are naked in bed together. At least they’re covered by blankets. Mostly. Allow me to rephrase, the parts of them I don’t want to see are covered and that’s what matters.
“Shhhh, he’s sleeping. If anyone wakes him up, I’m beheading people,” Atlanta whisper shouts at us.
I dump my candy loot onto the table and remember. “Made you another sandwich, babe. It’s in the fridge.”
Zhang stops mid-stride and his icy demeanor thaws. “You did?”
“Yeah.” I keep my voice low. “Consider it pre-payment for this.” I gesture to the candy. “I’m not paying you back.”
It’s not a smile—exactly—but there’s something akin to the emotion of “pleased” on his face. I get fucking warm again. Don’t like that.
