Page 51 of Fatal Scheme

“Did you ever think this would be your life? Sharing your girlfriend with your brother?” I ask, desperate to dig into his mind a little while he drives.

“No, but I wouldn’t trade you, or our situation, for the world. Surprisingly, I love when you’re with him,” he answers, and my heart flutters in my chest at his words, knowing he means every single one. “What about you? Did you ever think you’d be with two men at once?”

“Not a chance. But, I was attracted to both of you when we met. I’m thankful I didn’t have to choose,” I laugh, sliding into the middle seat, resting my head on his shoulder.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us, Carter. I believe in that, wholeheartedly,” he admits, sneaking a peek at me while we wait at a red light.

In a split second, I reach up and pull his lips to mine, his vulnerability on display as we share things that I never believed I was capable of feeling, let alone admitting aloud.

“What was that for, baby girl?” He asks, breaking our kiss as some impatient asshat behind us lays on the horn, indicating that the light has turned green.

“For being honest, and allowing me to do the same,” I smile, my connection to him much different than with Jasper, but equally as strong as I admire his profile.

He’s ruggedly handsome, like you’d never know he had a soft spot or a repulsion to violence and murder.

His dark eyes captivate me, and his signature jewelry catches me in a trance whenever it hits the light.

Before I can dig further into his mind, he turns on the toy, the vibration causing me to jump as it speeds up, humming against my clit in a perfect, delicious harmony.

“Fuck,” I moan, bucking my hips slightly to chase the friction, my body much more comfortable with the toy the second time around.

“That’s it, baby girl. Ride your toy,” Tyson breathes, putting the truck in park and turning fully to face me as I grind my hips in tune with the buzzing of the vibrator. “You’re so fucking pretty when you cum.”

With his words, I detonate like a bomb, my body convulsing as the waves work their way through me, all of my limbs numb and shaking.

I swear, every powerful orgasm brings something new out of me, or an emotional reaction that I can’t control, and this time is no different.

“I don’t want to cry, I did my makeup,” I whine, the tears welling in my eyes as Tyson pulls me into his chest, my legs straddling his.

“You did so good, Carter. I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, stroking my hair as my breathing comes back to normal, my heart rate finally regulating.

“How many more times are you going to use that thing on me?” I breathe, not sure how much more I can handle, my panties already soaked and destroyed.

“As many as I think you can take. Now, let’s go get you some food, this is a date, after all.” He lifts me off his lap, opening his driver door and assisting me as I climb out, my legs made out of jello as I struggle to stay on my feet in these heels.

Tyson snakes his hand through mine, proudly showing me off as we walk into the restaurant, and immediately, I fall in love with the decor.

It screams small town, locally owned, with various photos of the area tacked onto the red-painted walls.

There’s booths along the windows, intimate yet welcoming, and barstools lined up along the counter, with a window that offers a view directly into the kitchen.

Signs litter the walls letting patrons know that they only accept cash, giving the place an old-school feel that you rarely see anymore.

Tyson leads us to a booth in the back, away from other customers, a devious smirk on his face as he places his phone in the center of the table, an ominous reminder of what he has in store for me.

“Hey folks, I’m Eliza, I’ll be your server. Can we get started with something to drink? All our sodas are made the right way, with syrup,” the older woman says cheerfully, as if she’s been reading off the same script since the place opened.

It’s charming how stuck in the past it is, even down to the classic syrup and bubbles.

“I’ll do an orange soda, please.” I smile up at her, watching as she jots it down on her notepad.

“I’ll do the same,” Tyson says, but when she glances at him she retreats, like the big, scary man is going to hurt her.

“Be right up.” She turns on her heel, the excitement in her voice long gone as she rushes back to the safety of being in sight of the other guests.

“Does that always happen?” I ask, slightly annoyed that she literally judged Tyson right in his face, immediately afraid of him as if he wasn’t anything but polite.

“Yeah, pretty much. Massi and I are used to it, most of these people know our fathers,” he explains, and I shake my head, hating how they’re forced to be outcasts in their hometown.