by Ivy Fox
“Good. I’m glad we are on the same page. Let’s keep it that way.” Satisfied she’s made her point clear, she turns around and leaves the kitchen without a further word.
I slump my shoulders and hold onto the counter just so my weak knees won’t buckle. I should be used to her contemptuous attacks, but sometimes they hurt; especially when there are witnesses to her cruelty. Mercifully, the two kitchen maids, who no doubt heard every word, feign at being too busy with their tasks to have overheard my mother’s departing, malevolent statements.
It takes me a few minutes to shake off her negativity, but I remind myself that, while my mother is adamant in not having any affiliation with me, I’ve spent the last two summers doing exactly the same thing. It hasn’t been hard either. I mean, who would ever confuse me with being Vivienne West’s daughter anyway, when I’ve tried my whole life to be nothing like her?
This will be the last summer I will have to put up with her tyranny. Once the summer ends, she’ll ship me back to my grandmother’s house. I’ll turn eighteen in a few more months and finish high school, leaving her to officially wipe her hands clean of me and any responsibility she has felt obligated to endure. And the best part is—I’ll be free of her, too.
I’ll only have to put up with her for the next two months. What better way to do that than live life as if my mother didn’t exist? After all, when my father’s life was cut short, didn’t I assume his death turned me into a loveless orphan? All I have to do is stay clear of her and survive this last summer. Soon my life will be my own, and Vivienne West will be a distant memory.
My mother wants me to continue playing the part of having no connection with being a West—to me it’s not pretending when it’s been the only truth I’ve ever known.
Chapter 2
Asher
Facing down on the pillow, I stretch my arm to the bedside table and turn off the annoying alarm on my phone. With one eye open, I look at the screen and see it’s not even nine. Ollie must have set it up last night when we arrived since I’m not the kind of guy who sets alarms for anything in my life. Not for school and certainly not when I’m on my summer vacation. We must have gotten in around two in the morning last night, so it wouldn’t hurt the fucker any to let me sleep in.
But I get why my twin is so anxious to get my ass up this morning. For the past couple of years, coming to the Hamptons for the Fourth of July weekend wasn’t only the beginning of our summer, but also when we got to spend time with our fucking obsession. It meant we got to see more than just fireworks—we got to see Snow.
I turn over on my back, picturing the last time I saw her, wondering if she’s changed at all this past year. I hope not. I mean, why mess with perfection? Because that’s exactly what Snow was to me—fucking perfect.
White-blonde hair, hitting just above that fine ass she insists on hiding under her fuck-me shorts when she’s working. Plump, juicy lips that most girls back home only get as their sweet-sixteen present. A tight, toned body that those same girls slave for hours to obtain in the gym. And the pièce de résistance, stunning gray eyes that no contact manufacturer could ever reproduce its likeness or allure. Snow’s jaw-dropping attributes are all genuinely hers. And while most girls at Pembroke High would flaunt that shit like a damned parade if they had it, my girl seems to be completely uninterested in her flawlessness. Sometimes I get the feeling she even tones her hotness down for whatever senseless reason.
The selfish prick that I am, though, welcomes her modest, shy demeanor—it means other fuckers won’t mess with her when I’m not around, which unfortunately is usually the whole damn year. Ollie and I are only fortunate enough to get a taste of Snow when summer arrives. But this year, we’re going to rectify that shit.
My wandering hand travels south until it meets the aching cock that’s been deprived for far longer than I care to admit, ever since Snow came along into our lives. Sure, the first year we met her, at that little corner diner she works in, I still got plenty of action back in New York. But that’s when I thought I’d have a shit chance at getting a girl like Snow to ever give me the time of day. The girl was smart as a whip and kindhearted to boot, so I wasn’t surprised when Ollie was the only one she seemed to have eyes for. I had officially conformed to being friend-zoned, so my brother could have a shot at the one girl that seemed to dominate my every thought. I loved him first after all, so as much as I wanted Snow to be mine, she was off limits.
But last year, all that changed. Snow showed she was as much into me as she was into Ollie. I guess me being a dick all the time made it harder for her to warm up to me, but when she finally did, I was so damned hot for her, it was borderline pathetic. Girl had me on a leash and didn’t even realize it. Hell, she had Ollie by the balls the very first time she smiled at the poor bastard. I can’t really blame him, though. One smile from Snow, one soft word, and my own wretched heart told me I was in big fucking trouble.
I mean, who ever heard of anyone falling in love at sixteen?
No one, that’s who.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact we fell hard when we were too young and stupid to realize just what this whole love thing was all about. Neither of us had even gotten past second base with Snow, yet here we were already having a hard time not serenading her with love poems, flowers, and all that Romeo bullshit. Our feelings for the townie went way beyond a summer crush, no matter what stage of intimacy our girl allowed us.
We didn’t have to say it to each other to know what we were thinking and feeling about her either. Guess that comes down to sharing a womb for nine months and coming into this world together. We are two halves of one whole, and the last time we were here, she didn’t seem to mind the package deal at all.
As I said, Snow is fucking perfection.
And this summer, we want to make it official. Ollie and I have spent the last ten months thinking of every persuasive argument possible to make our intentions as clear as day. Snow was it for us, and being with her only for two months out of the year is no longer going to cut it. Texts and phone calls can only go so far. We want to dive into whatever this thing with the three of us is and see it through. We want it all, and this year she is going to give it to us. One way or another, Snow is going to be ours for the long haul.
My needy dick twitches in my hand with the thought of how I want to celebrate her surrender to us, but before I’m able to give my cock two full strokes, a loud bang on my bedroom door takes me out of my daydream and back to reality. I inwardly growl at the fucker who decided to interrupt me half pump but stop myself from beating his ass for it since his ache is just as overwhelming as my own.
“Get up, asshole!” I hear Ollie bellow on the other side of the door. “We’re late.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah! I’m coming!” I yell back.
We’re not late at all. We both know that Snow doesn’t start her shift at The Shack until ten, but my anxious twin doesn’t want to spend another lousy second apart from our girl and is making damn sure I don’t either.
“If you’re not down in fifteen minutes, I’m leaving without you,” he warns on the other side, and I throw my pillow at the closed door, not making my aggravation clear enough with the measly thumping sound it makes.
“I dare you, motherfucker,” I shout, jumping out of bed and rushing to the door.
The minute I open it, my twin looks back at me with an all-knowing smirk plastered on his face.
“Glad to see you’re up. Now get a fucking move on,” he relents, slapping my unshaved cheek with a gentle tap. I’m older than him by three full minutes, yet he’s the one who acts like I’m the unruly younger brother. “I’ll give you an extra five minutes to sort that shit out. Take a shower, deal with that scruff, and get dressed. We’re burning precious time as it is.”
“Eat me,” I reply, crossing my arms over my bare chest.
“It’s not you who I want to sink my teeth in.” He winks, and the dirty gleam in his eye makes me c
huckle at where his mind is.
“Now that I’m on board with.” I laugh, going back to retrieve my phone from its resting place and strut past him on my way out to the bathroom down the hall. “Be downstairs in thirty,” I add over my shoulder, slamming the door behind me.
“I gave you twenty, asshole! God, you suck at math,” I hear him mumble away, his footsteps already leading him down the stairs.
Yeah, I might suck at math, but I know exactly how much time I’ll need to beat my dick into submission and look nice and presentable for our eager reunion. I turn on my playlist and begin to listen to “Snow White” by Dennis Lloyd before stepping inside the shower. As I go in, I am hit with the first cold sprays from the showerhead, but as it heats up, the downpour rinses pleasantly over my body, letting the angst-filled melody travel through me. With the sensuous beat in the air and the image of my sweet temptress in my mind—on her knees, with doe-like eyes, looking up at me while licking her soft, pink lips in anticipation—it’s enough to make me cum in record time. The release seems minimal to the one that no doubt will happen when I test this little fantasy of mine for real.
I’ve waited two whole years, and I know that if Snow asked me to, I’d be happy to wait a lifetime for her to be ready for that type of intimacy. I just really fucking hope she won’t torture my cock by imposing this long-ass celibacy any further. You can’t die of blue balls. At least not according to Google—and yes, I checked. But with my frequent whacking off, lusting over my girl, I’m sure I’ll be getting a severe case of tendinitis soon enough.
But, if Snow tells me that my right hand is the only thing my dick is entitled to, then so be it. Whatever she wants, you best believe she will get it from me. Now tell me if I’m not whipped as hell by the girl? Funny part is, I know it and don’t even care. Snow can have my balls any way she wants. If that isn’t a sign I’m in love, I have no idea what is.
Until she came into my life, being loyal to anyone aside from my brothers and sister was unthinkable to me. They are my family and my blood. Throughout my whole eighteen years of life, no one else had ever come close to earning my trust. Not my asshole of a father, not my coked-up friends, and sure as shit, not those Pembroke bitches that bounce from dick to dick whenever it’s convenient to them.
I’ve seen too much shit to know that even the supposedly good girls can flip the switch on a dime and do you wrong in a heartbeat. Our eldest brother Rome can attest to that. Giving your heart out to the unworthy is one bitter pill that I do not want to swallow. A trap I no longer have to fear since I would gladly place my hands over a hot flame to vouch for my girl’s honesty and faithfulness and know that I wouldn’t get burned. Not in a million years. She thinks Ollie and I gave her the nickname after her long, platinum-blonde hair, but in reality, it was the sincerity in those gorgeous gray eyes of hers that was the true inspiration for the endearment. The girl is as pure as they come, and I, for one, am ready to dirty her up a little bit.
My cock comes back to life in my grip, and I painfully press on the tip, ordering it to simmer down. Our summer awaits, and I have no intention of postponing it any further by jacking myself off when I could be spending time with the girl who inspires my every orgasm. Sexual frustration be damned.
I make quick work of getting myself clean and dressed, but I don’t have any time or patience to shave like Ollie ordered me to. I don’t care what he says; I make this scruff look good. I run downstairs to the kitchen and see my older brother and younger sister shooting the shit while Ollie throws a scathing look my way, pissed as hell I made him wait longer than I promised.
“Sure took you long enough,” he scowls as I pick an apple out of the centerpiece fruit bowl and take a bite.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Rome asks, sensing my usually chilled brother about to pop the lid with my nonchalant attitude.
“Oh, Ollie is just suffering from a major case of blue balls for the past twenty-four months. It’s bound to make anybody grouchy,” I goad my twin, and he flips me off discretely by pushing his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose. If my sister wasn’t here, I’m sure he’d tell me to fuck off right before jamming his fist in my face.
“Ew, gross,” Elle mumbles, pushing her bowl of cereal away. “Please spare me your sexual escapades so early in the morning, will you?”
“Pay closer attention, little sis. I said Oliver’s dick probably has to look up the word sex to remember what it is. No escapades to be heard of, at least any that don’t involve wetting his sheets at night.” I laugh, ruffling her brown hair on the top of her head.
“Fine! Or the lack thereof,” she replies, slapping my hand away. “Seriously, I don’t want to know, but if you absolutely have to, at least let a girl finish her breakfast first. Geez.”
“So, does that mean the townie hasn’t made up her mind yet? Still undecided on which one of you she wants, huh?” Rome teases, adding more fire to the already lit flame under Ollie’s ass.
“Who said we’re making her choose?” I wink Ollie’s way, gaining a small rise at the corner of his upper lip.
Rome’s trademark smirk reveals itself, and I have to say, my own stupid grin is loud and proud.
“TMI, ASHER! Okay, I’m done. You ruined breakfast for me, and I doubt I’ll be able to keep any food down today with the image you planted in my head of you tag teaming some poor girl,” Elle grumbles, standing up from her seat and placing her bowl in the sink.
“Jesus, Elle! I do not want to hear that shit coming out of your mouth,” Rome exclaims in disgust, getting up and scrapping his plate of food into the garbage bin, apparently losing his own appetite with our kid sister’s spot-on sexual remark.
“She’s sixteen years old, Rome. Little sis isn’t the baby you make her out to be; hasn’t been one in ages. Just go onto her Tumblr account if you don’t believe me,” I tout back, stirring the pot Rome’s way this time.
Rome’s light-amber eyes turn to a dangerous, darker shade and his whole face looks as if he’s about to stroke out at any minute. I watch as he fists his hands to the sides, trying hard not to lose it. If I thought I could get away with it, without Rome beating my ass into a pulp, I’d film this shit just to make fun of him later. Rome’s soft spot has always been Elle, and it’s just too damn easy to wind him up.
“The fuck is Ash on about, Elle?!” he yells aghast.
“Oh, simmer down, Rome. I’m only looking. It’s not a crime being curious, is it? And don’t worry, I know the age of consent in the state of New York is seventeen,” she adds unashamedly while getting her tennis equipment ready.
“How the fuck do you know that? You know what? Don’t tell me. I don’t need to start my summer thinking about my little sister—the very same who I held in my arms when she was just an innocent baby—looking up porn and thinking about losing her virginity. Nope. Not going to happen.” He shakes his head vehemently, gripping the countertop to keep him steady.
“Wonderful. Glad that’s settled. Now, can you give me a ride to the country club, or not? I want to get my name on this year’s tennis tournament if I can,” she coos, batting her eyelashes at him.
I chuckle under my breath as I watch my five-foot-nothing of a sister make my six-foot-three brother her bitch. I couldn’t be prouder of the little rug rat. Rome picks up his car keys and phone while running his fingers through his black hair, mumbling incoherently as he heads to the main door, to do as she bids.
“You shouldn’t antagonize him so much. You know how protective he is of Elle,” Ollie reprimands me. Elle doesn’t look pleased with me either. Rome may be Elle’s biggest protector, but my little sister isn’t far behind. She will always defend him tooth and nail.
“That’s okay, Ollie. Ash tends to forget that karma is a bitch. Remember, big brother, the universe sees every little thing you do. If you insist on being a dick, sooner or later it’s going to bite you in the ass,” Elle sing-songs on her way out of the kitchen, her ponytail swinging aw
ay with every step.
“Fuck the universe. It has never played in our favor anyway,” I mumble, my angry thoughts rising with Elle’s misconstrued notion of life.
Before I have time to let the seeds of rage and abandonment sink in, I feel my twin’s hand on my shoulder.
“Today is not a day to wallow in the past, Ash. Today is all about our future,” he insists hopeful. “Let’s go see our girl and get a taste of how amazing that future is going to be.”
Damn straight.
As long as we have Snow, nothing else holds any weight in my heart. Not anger, not hate, and definitely not pain or sorrow. Only love resides within me, and that’s all thanks to her pure heart, which somehow thought us worthy of it.
“Let’s get our girl, then. We’ve waited long enough.”
Chapter 3
Holland
I’m in the kitchen refilling a jug with ice water when Candy strolls in and nudges me on my shoulder with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Guess who just came through the door?” she sing-songs in my ear.
“Hmm, tough one. Some TV or movie star? Ohhh! Is it someone from Game of Thrones? I’d love to meet Daenerys. Someone needs to tell that girl she got shafted.” I giggle, winking at my co-worker and, sadly, probably one of the few true friends I have.
“No, you goof. It’s not Emilia Clarke. Although she’s on the same level of hotness,” Candy replies, peeking at The Shack’s breakfast crowd through the small window centered on the kitchen door. “Shit! One of them just smiled at me. Scratch that! They are way hotter than Dany. But damn, what I wouldn’t do to be in the middle of that fuck-me-till-I’m-blind twin sandwich,” she shrieks excitedly.
“Candy, Xavier is right there,” I reprimand under my breath, tilting my head to the cook.