All Chapters of Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

~~RAPHAEL~~ I wake up, and the first thing I see is a pair of furious green eyes glaring down at me. Before I can process that Axel—my idiot brother—is straddling me in Peyton's bed, I receive a sharp punch right across my jaw. The sound is like a gunshot in the cramped space. My head whips to the side, spitting blood and annoyance. "What the hell, Axel?" I rub my jaw, sucking in a deep breath. "Subtle. Did you run out of knuckles, or is that all the charm you have left?" Axel doesn't even blink. He is vibrating with subtle rage, pointing a finger at me. "Don't you dare give me that witty crap, Raphael! I know it! I know when your phone goes straight to voicemail that you found her and ditched me. You had the tracking code, you piece of filth! I've been driving around this dead-end town for two hours, and you were up here not answering the door." "Well, forgive me if I'm not prioritizing a house call from the one brother who consistently misses the point." I try to push him

~~PEYTON~~ Who would have thought two hot men would block my door and trap me in my bedroom? At first, we were in the living room, teasing, talking, giving red-light flirting, and making my cheek burn. God, Raphael? He's something else. And Axel? Sometimes he's cute, and most times he's just pure danger. That makes my heart want to leap out of my ribs. They are standing shoulder-to-shoulder, filling the frame. Their tall bodies push me back, pinning me against the wall. Raphael's left hand is splayed on the wall above my head, and Axel is by my side, leaning on the wall. All eyes on me. I bite my lips, fiddling with my hips, rubbing my thighs together to cool the heat pooling up in, you know where. If this is their idea of foreplay, it's cruel. Cruel, but effective. Every nerve ending is screaming, aching for them to stop looking and start touching. I can’t breathe, and the anticipation is killing me. I need them to move; I need their hands to break this tension and giv

~~PEYTON~~I feel like I'm having a seizure. The orgasm has subsided, but it still feels like I'm going to explode; my core is still dripping, needy, and exposed as air slaps my clit, sending tiny, shocking jolts through my nerves that make me gasp.Raphael wraps his arms around me again, pulling us up so I'm sitting against his chest, my back flush against his hard torso. He uses the sheet to tuck me in quickly, treating me like a precious, fragile doll.Axel takes Raphael's vacated position without a word, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting on the edge.He lifts a brow. “This isn't the plan.”“I know. Just feeling generous,” Raphael scoffs as Axel scoffs back.“Don't regret it.”I groan, still recovering from whatever they did to me. “Can you two just get this over with? You ruined my orgasm.”More like made it better, but I'm not admitting that.I gasp, feeling large hands cupping my tits, shooting out from the thin fabric.“Be patient, little runner,” he says w

~~WEEKS LATER~~~~PEYTON~~We just got back from three blissful weeks in Italy—the kind of trip where your biggest concern is whether to get gelato or aperitivo first. While the boys are silently cooking up bigger plans to ensure the trip engraves itself in my memories for a lifetime.And hell yeah, I'm taking those memories to the grave.Sex. Sex. Sex.Seems to be the routine for most days. I've never been shattered to this extent before in the 24 years of my life. Sometimes I feel I might break. I even passed out one time and woke up at 2 PM in the afternoon. By then, the boys were drowning in guilt, and they all tripped over themselves trying to apologize and fuss over me with tea, promises, and concerned glances. It was actually kind of sweet, if they weren't the reason I needed CPR in the first place. (Just kidding).It was great.But of course, as soon as we landed, we were hit with the unpleasant reality check. Some guy named Arlo—a name I have never heard before—suddenly summo

~~PEYTON~~I clutch the sheets tight against my chest, squeezing my eyes shut.I’m trying to sleep, mostly because sleeping off my discomfort seems like the only way I won't explode in anger.If I stay awake, I’m going to break something, and this hotel suite looks expensive.The door opens with a soft click.A second later, the mattress dips. Raphael climbs in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me back against his chest."You want to talk about it?" he murmurs into my hair."No," I mutter, not opening my eyes. Trying to sweep my mind clean of everything, make it blank, and focus on the heat of Raphael's chest against me. But I can't. I open my eyes, staring at the wall. I can't help it. "Who's that woman?""Who?" He asks nipping on my ears. I run a finger through his cheek, then his hair, tracing his scalp, keeping my hand busy. "The woman who didn't attend the dinner.""Oh," Raphael says, his voice vibrating against my back. "That's Arlo’s wife."I turn to fac