Chapter 211: Chapter 211

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real anger in it. Just fond exasperation. She grabbed the shampoo, squirted some into her palm, and started working it into her hair.

“Hey,” she said softly, “I knew this kind of thing would happen the second I signed up to be your side piece. I’m not mad.”

I kissed her slow and grateful. “You’re the best. Not a side piece. Every single one of you. You know that, right?”

She smirked, rinsing suds from her hair. “I know. Now think fast, genius. How are you getting out of here without Ivy seeing you naked in my shower?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Easy. You go out first, tell her you need her to grab something from your bedroom—phone charger, whatever. I’ll slip out while she’s gone. Then you do the whole ’Hey, look who stopped by to fix the keyboard!’ routine.”

Delilah nodded, already turning off the water. “Smooth. I love you, Evan Marlowe.”

I kissed her one last time, soft and lingering. “I love you too.”

╭────────────────────╮

REPUTATION SYSTEM (LVL 11)

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VILLAIN░░░░░███░░░░░░░░░ HERO

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Betraying your friend:-15

╰────────────────────╯

After we both took shower and dried ourself, she wrapped a towel around herself, unlocked the door, and called down the hall in the most casual mom-voice ever:

“Ivy, honey, can you grab my charger from the bedroom? The long white one?”

“Yeah, sure!” came the reply from the living room.

Delilah cracked the bathroom door, shot me a quick wink, then slipped out. I counted to ten, grabbed my clothes, and tiptoed barefoot and dripping through the hall. By the time Ivy’s footsteps sounded again, I was already outside, shirt half-buttoned, hair plastered to my head, boots yanked on.

Two minutes later the front door swung open.

“Hey, look who’s here!” Delilah called, voice bright as sunshine, now in a loose sweater and leggings. “Evan came by to fix that keyboard after all!”

Ivy appeared behind her, controller in hand, eyebrows raised. “Wow, you’re soaked, dude.”

“Yeah, it’s pouring like hell out there,” I said, shaking water from my hair for effect. “Ms. Komb texted me about the spacebar acting up again. Figured I’d swing by.”

“You came this fast?” Ivy asked, squinting suspiciously.

I shrugged, casual as hell. “Was literally in the neighborhood.”

Ivy groaned dramatically. “Please, for the love of fuck, fix this damn keyboard, Evan. I’ve got a paper due tomorrow and this thing keeps eating my spaces.”

“I will, I will, don’t worry,” I laughed, stepping inside.

Ivy rolled her eyes and marched ahead toward the living-room desk.

The second her back was turned, I reached out and delivered one quick, silent spank to Delilah’s ass. She jumped, bit her lip to stifle a giggle, and shot me a look that said we were so getting away with this.

We both grinned like idiots.

╭────────────────────╮

– Sexual Activity Completed

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Partner: Delilah

EXP Gained: +175

Reputation-Bad Bonus: +15

Star Rating: 4.1 ★★★★

Reason: –

╰────────────────────╯

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

Damn. Damn. Damn. Fucking Delilah with Ivy right there had been unreal, but my cock was officially on strike. It didn’t hurt exactly—just a deep, sweet ache, like I’d run a marathon with my dick. I could’ve sworn I’d dropped a kilo just from how much I’d cum in the last twenty-four hours.

╭────────────────────╮

– Evan Marlowe (Lvl 11)

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– Age: 21

– Height: 180 cm

– Weight: 74 kg

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– EXP: [█░░░░░░░░░] 362/2970

╰────────────────────╯

The Bad Reputation bonus was trickling in, but if I ever went full villain and kept railing Delilah behind Ivy’s back, it’d probably skyrocket. Tempting… but no. I didn’t want that. Neutral reputation felt a lot cleaner.

I collapsed face-first onto the couch. “I’m dead. Oh my god.”

Minne padded in from the kitchen, apron fluttering. “Master, welcome home.”

“Hey, beautiful,” I mumbled into the cushion. “Any chance you could massage my forehead? It’s trying to kill me.”

“Of course, Master.” She smiled softly and moved to the head of the couch, leaning over me. Her small, warm hands settled on my temples and started working in slow, perfect circles.

I groaned, eyes sliding shut. “You’re a fucking angel, Minne.”

“Ms. Nolin made me practice on her for hours,” she said proudly, thumbs pressing just right along my hairline. “I got really good.”

“That you did.”

Nala stepped out of the master bedroom, hair loose, still in her work blouse but sleeves rolled up. She looked like the weight of the world had landed on her shoulders. Without a word she flopped onto the opposite couch and exhaled like she’d been holding that breath for hours.

“Hey,” I said, cracking one eye open. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Just… exhausted. Thought I’d nap, but my brain won’t shut up.”

“Mole still eating at you?”

“Board’s losing their minds. Stock dipped three percent already. Chaos.”

Before I could answer, three sharp knocks sounded at the door.

Minne bounced over and opened it. A second later, a girl sauntered in like she owned the place.

She was short—maybe 5’2—tonal mint-green hair cut into a messy wolf cut, roots showing dark. Ripped black crop top that barely contained her perky tits, no bra, nipples poking through the thin fabric. Low-rise cargo pants slung so low the waistband of her lime-green thong peeked out, and the front… fuck. The pants were tight enough that the outline of her pussy was unmistakable, a perfect little cameltoe pressing against the fabric. Every step made the seam ride up just enough to tease.

She caught me staring for half a second and smirked, half-lidded hazel eyes glinting.

“Oh,” Nala said, sitting up straighter. “Emma. Hey. You could’ve texted.”

Emma ignored the greeting, gaze sliding from Nala to me, then back. “So this is him?” That lazy, knowing smirk widened. “The guy you won’t shut up about.”

Nala cleared her throat, cheeks pink. “Emma, Evan. Evan, Emma.”

I pushed myself upright, trying to look normal. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she drawled, voice low and smoky. Her eyes flicked down to my lap for a split second—like she could tell I was half-dead down there—and her smirk grew.

She turned to Minne, who was practically vibrating with excitement. “Still rocking the maid outfit, huh? Cute.”

Minne did a little twirl, skirt flaring. “I like it!”

Emma dropped onto the free couch, legs spreading just enough that the cameltoe became obscene. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Want anything?” Minne asked brightly.

“Nah, I’m good.” Emma leaned back, arms draped along the backrest, crop top riding higher. The underboob was criminal.

Nala sat beside her, still flustered. I stood up, suddenly feeling like I was intruding on girl time.

“I should head out,” I said, stretching. “Got some… stuff to take care of.”

Nala raised an eyebrow. “Stuff?”

“Yeah. Boring shit.”

“Alright,” she said softly. “Take care, Evan.”

“You too.”

Welp…

Something told me this wasn’t the last time I’d be seeing that particular shade of green.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I was lying on the wide bed in one of the spare guest rooms downstairs, sweatpants shoved to my knees, shirt tossed on the floor, cock resting heavy against my thigh. The room was dim, curtains half-drawn, city lights bleeding through the gap. I’d been scrolling on my phone for the last ten minutes, trying not to overthink the text I’d sent Jasmine.

The door opened quietly.

Jasmine stepped in wearing a thin white ribbed tank that clung to every curve and a pair of tiny black cotton boy-shorts that barely covered the bottom of her ass. No bra. Her nipples were already stiff against the fabric. She shut the door, leaned back against it for a second, and let her eyes drag down my body.

“Oh my god,” she said, voice low and amused. “You really want me to edge you for twenty straight minutes?”

“No typo in the text I sent,” I answered, tossing the phone onto the duvet beside me. “Timer’s ready.”

She crossed the room slow, hips rolling, climbed onto the sectional, and straddled my thighs. The heat from her pussy through those thin shorts pressed right against my skin.

“Lie back properly,” she ordered, snatching the phone. She tapped the screen, set the countdown, and hit start. “Twenty minutes. You move your hips, I stop. You come early, you lose. You make it to zero… you can paint whatever you want. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Her hand wrapped around my cock, warm, confident, already slick with the little bottle of lube she’d palmed. One slow stroke from root to tip, thumb smearing the pre-cum that had already leaked out.

“Jesus,” she murmured, feeling how slowly I hardened. “Someone really sucked you dry today. Look at this tired thing. Takes forever to stand up.”

“Very long day,” I muttered.

She started slow, long, lazy pulls, twisting her wrist at the top, nails grazing the underside just enough to make my breath catch. Every time my hips twitched she squeezed the base hard, killing the climb.

“Stay still, baby,” she warned, voice velvet. “I mean it.”

Her free hand slid up my stomach, nails dragging, then down to cup my balls, rolling them gently, tugging just enough to make my toes curl. I groaned, head falling back against the cushions.

“Already close?” she teased. “We’re not even four minutes in.”

She shifted gears, two hands now, one pumping the shaft in steady strokes, the other twisting gently under the head. My cock throbbed, balls drawing up tight. I felt the edge rushing in fast.

She stopped completely, both hands off, and watched my cock jerk angrily in the air.

“Fuck, Jas—”

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