“Because I know you won’t. That’s what annoying little sisters are for. Someone’s gotta keep that man on his toes.”True.
“How’s Trent?” Tiffany was a hard read when it came to their relationship. I couldn’t tell if she was faking her disinterest or if she was truly at odds with him; not like I’d judge her if she eventually fell for the man. Which, honestly, is what I really wanted for her.
“Oh, he’s fine… We’re still navigating this wholemarriage-before-lovething. Living like roommates… and as you can imagine, it’s…”
“Difficult?”
“Putting it lightly… Even though we have the rooms and the space, he refuses to let me sleep alone. Acts as if the MUR has a whole-ass surveillance system installed inside our house. Monitoring our actions twenty-four-seven.” I wanted to tell her that if he was anything like Rhylan, his need to be close wasn’t because of the MUR. It also had me wondering if Trent had started developing a possessiveness over my sister.
The first night after signing her name away, Tiffany and I stayed in our old rambler, while Rhylan and Trent got to work designing plans and hiring contractors to break ground on the ranch.
She took the news of the MUR… as to be expected:
“A secret society of contract killers?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“It’s not that bad, Tiff.”
“Oh, and let me guess, I’m going to have to kill people too, right?”
I didn’t respond.
“Right?!”
I thought she’d handle the news… better.
“Dakota!”
It took Tiffany several hours to calm down after I explained everything: about the test to come, what would be expected of us as wives, and… what actually happened to Jaiden. That part, however, didn’t seem to faze her at all—that Rhylan had brutally beaten the slimeball’s head in and then magically wiped the plate clean of his existence.
“I’m sure you two will sort out your differences soon enough. At least the sex is good?”
“That’s part of the problem. When we’re apart, it's easy, but the moment he sinks into the mattress beside me, I’m fucking done for. Like some horny succubus just begging for his cock. Which, mind you,is—”
“I don’t need to know the specifics of Trent’s dick.” While the habit of over-sharing was mutual, I genuinely wasn’t interested in knowing what kind of package that man carried. For obvious reasons.
“It’s not even that, he’s—”
“Tiff. I’m warning you.”
“Pierced.”
“His too?!” Okay, now she’d managed to pique my interest. Because how often do men go out and get penis piercings? They couldn’t be that common.
“Wait, Rhylan’s pierced? And you never thought to tell me?”
“First of all,thatwas none of your business, and secondly—”
“Do you think they got them done together? Like, not together at the same time holding hands, but... You know… same day?”
“Tiff!” How this girl can go from ‘I’m not sure this marriage is going to work’ to being enamored about the condition of his dick is beyond me.
“Can’t blame a girl for being curious about a man’s cock. Those piercings look like they hurt.”
“Hold up,piercings?” I put emphasis on the ‘s’. “As in plural?” Now she had my undivided attention.
“Yeah, why? Doesn’t Rhylan have like… six of them too?”
“Six?! He hassix?” The way my jaw hit the floor at the number. My brain immediately worked to figure out how his dick could accommodate that many, and what kind of man would sit through that amount of pain for a little bit of added stimulation during sex.
