Chapter 110

Ollie’s POV

“What are you looking for?” I ask, redirecting. If the lying won’t work, I will deflect as best I can for as long as I can, until this conversation is over.

“You know what I’m looking for,” he says, bringing the conversation back on track.

This deflection isn’t going to be as easy as I want it to be. While I’m hoping to veer him off-track, he’s seemingly determined to follow the scent on this lead he has, all the way to the source.

Unfortunately, the source is me.

“What are you expecting to find?” I ask him.

This time, he looks back at me. Like with Wes and Declan, he seems to stare straight through me, deep down to my soul.

Somehow, despite all my careful planning, I feel like they already know the truth. Whether they are looking for confirmation or just want me to admit it, I can’t tell. Men as confident as them, I doubt they need either of those things to believe what they want to believe.

“Hugh thinks you are our mysterious mate,” Conrad says, giving me the first straight answer I’ve had from any of them in a while. Unfortunately, it’s about this, putting me immediately on the spot. While it’s not a point blank question, I still feel like it is something that calls for immediate rebuttal.

The question is, how much should I refuse. I could pretend not to know they have a mate, but that might be too far. I need just the right level of ignorance to be convincing.

“That’s ridiculous,” I say, which isn’t a lie. That I am their fated mate is ridiculous, even it’s true. “You don’t believe that, do you?” Again, not a denial, just another misdirection.

“I don’t know yet,” Conrad admits. “Hugh has known our Angel the longest. For him to suspect… And I’m not blind to what he is saying. What he sees.” Turning toward me, away from the door, he drags his gaze up and down the length of my body. “There are similarities between the two of you.”

“That can’t be,” I say.

Something in Conrad’s eyes flashes then and he surges forward. His hands grip my ass as he lifts me up. He presses me into the wall. Grinding his hips under me, he keeps me aloft with the strength of his arms and the hard press of his body, wedging me against him and the wall.

My breath entirely escapes me as my heart races.

“You don’t smell like her,” Conrad says, “And your hair is different.”

I swallow thickly. Every nerve in my entire body comes alight at the touch of him, the feel of his hard body pressed against me.

With this closeness, my body is reacting, my nipples hardening within my lacy bra. The area between my thighs grows damp.

“The hair could be a wig,” he continues. Slowly, he starts to sway his hips, gently bucking up into me.

It’s enough to make me moan.

His eyes are fire, burning me with our locked gaze. He’s not smiling, but his lips are ever-so-slightly curled at the edges, like a smile might break out at any moment.

Truly, he just seems smug. Pleased. Satisfied with the noises he is forcing from my body. He’s playing me like an instrument, and I’m making the sweetest sounds for him.

“There are ways to hide a scent,” he continues.

Another thrust of his hips sends me straight to heaven and back. I try to bite back my moan this time, gasping instead. He looks no less pleased at the result.

“You feel like her,” Conrad says. “That cannot be deceived. It could be coincidence but…”

Another thrust. I claw at his shoulders. I drop my head back. It connects with the wall, but it’s not a hard enough hit to do any damage. It doesn’t even wake me from this moment.

Gods, his body is so hot, as is the attention he is giving me. And I’m starting to feel the twitch of his hardness as his dick presses against my covered entrance.

Wildly, I want to be naked. I want him to take me just like this, to hell with the consequences. To hell with the lies.

Leaning forward, he kisses along the column of my throat. When he finds my pulse point, and likely feeling my racing heart beneath, he sucks in a mark there.

“Conrad…” I say with a sigh.

“You say my name like her too,” he says, his breath hot on my skin and the wet mark he just made. “I wonder… If I take you, will you scream like her too?”

I’m teetering on the edge, so close to losing myself. Pressed even further when he demands…

“Come clean, Ollie. Tell me the truth.”

My name on his lips, when we are like this… It’s too much. I want him to say it again and again, to tell me I belong to him, to tell me I’m beautiful and perfect and his as he pounds into me, claiming me with his words as well as his dick.

“Tell me you are my Angel,” he presses.

The second name, the fake one, is what finally wakes me up from my sexy trance.

At once, I realize my position, and what I almost gave up just to feel good in this moment.

I have an entire future teetering on my secret. And I’m going to throw it all way just for sex?

Granted, it’s fucking fantastic, earth-moving sex, but still…

My future needs to be my top priority. Tying myself to the brothers will not end well for me.

Conrad must feel the change in me. He leans back to look up at my face.

“Ollie?”

“You should let me go,” I say, and then to emphasize my point, I force to mind one of the main obstacles standing between us.

Sylvia.

There is nothing else in the world that cools me as fast as the thought of her name.

“Your sister won’t like you fooling around with her servant,” I say bitterly.

The thought of Sylvia seems to cool Conrad too, perhaps more effectively than even a cold shower.

The nudge against my inner thigh disappears, and Conrad’s face hardens. Looking at me, his entire demeanor shifts. He gets a little angry.

Then, in a flash, he tosses me on the bed. I bounce a few times, frightened for a moment, but unharmed.

As I struggle to catch my breath, he storms out of the room.

Conrad’s POV

Conrad rushes upstairs, his blood still heated, but the desire has shriveled. Now, he just feels angry. He allows that feeling to pump through his veins, thriving on it. He wants to feel this, to hold onto the anger, so that he will not feel shame for what he just did with Ollie.

And how very much he enjoyed it.

Maybe it was for the best that she brought up Sylvia. If she had not, he might have ripped off Ollie’s pants and fucked her right there against the wall.

That couldn’t have ended well.

Gods, she was so fucking hot as he kissed her though. And those noises…

Those were going to stay with him for a while.

Conrad finds his brothers in the living room. Whatever they are talking about, Conrad doesn’t even process. That can wait, compared to his news.

His revelations.

“Ollie isn’t Angel,” he says abruptly.

Three sets of eyes turn to look at him.

“How do you know?” Beau asks.

“Our fated mate would love our sister as much as we do,” Conrad says. This is the most damning evidence he can find. The woman the Moon Goddess picked for them has to be perfect, and for that woman to be perfect, she has to care about Sylvia as much as the brothers.

Else they’d never get along. Not for any long term.

Conrad continues, “Ollie hates her.”