Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine-Chapter 271: Family Problems

The master bedroom is for Scott and his girlfriends.

There were several separate beds and one massive bed for all of them to share.

The place always smelled like sweet vanilla and very expensive candles.

But today it was mostly Emma's rising panic.

She was pacing again on the heated marble floor as her silk pajama shorts rode up with every turn. Her chocolate brown hair kept falling into her face no matter how many times she shoved it back.

"And then there was Jeremy… sweet, dumb Jeremy who wrote me poetry and the second Mom baked him those stupid lavender macarons he literally forgot my name." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

She held up a trembling fist.

"Forgot. My. Name. Scott, are you listening?"

Scott sat at the vanity, shirtless, running a wide-tooth comb through his still-damp hair with the focus of a bomb tech defusing an IED. He tilted his head left, right, squinted at the mirror, then reached for the sea-salt spray.

"Mhm. Jeremy. Macarons. Tragic."

Emma spun around, hands on hips.

"And Mr. Lang? My AP Calc teacher? Mom 'invited him over to discuss my progress' and suddenly I'm getting A-plus on tests I left half blank. Great, right? Until she ghosted him and I failed the final because he cried during our one-on-one review. He cried, dude."

"Damn."

Scott murmured as he scrunched the ends of his hair with delicate fingers.

"That's cold-blooded."

Emma threw her arms up.

"And prom! Oh my God, prom. She rented the back room at the venue, put on this stupid red dress that cost more than the DJ, and charged two hundred a minute to dance with the dateless guys. Made a hundred and fifty grand in four hours. The group chat the next day? Non-stop. 'Bro Mrs. Graves let me grab her ass it was so fat' or 'Nah I got to third base behind the bleachers' ughh… I wanted to die."

She flopped face-first onto the custom-made family bed with a muffled scream.

Scott spritzed a little more product, ruffled, checked the mirror from three angles.

"So she actually let high-schoolers motorboat her for cash? That's… bold."

Emma's head popped up.

Her hair was a mess.

"No! That's the thing—she didn't let them touch shit. She's too smart. She just let them think they did. Took their money, smiled pretty, and walked away. They lied to save face. She played them like a fucking violin."

She rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling like it had personally wronged her.

"I just wanted a normal Christmas."

She sighed painfully.

"Cookies. Matching pajamas."

Scott gave his reflection a final nod of approval.

High maintenance "I just got out of bed" look.

He spun the chair around.

"I'm just surprised you even have a mom. Thought you were lab-grown by a team of horny scientists."

Silence.

He glanced over.

Emma was staring at him, head tilted, small frown, lips pursed in that unfairly cute way that made his chest do stupid things.

Scott raised both hands.

"I'm saying—communication, babe. Would've been cool to get a heads-up that your mom looks like she eats young virgin men for breakfast."

Emma's eyes narrowed.

She marched over, rose on tiptoes, and started poking his bare chest with every word.

"You. Are. Not. An. Open. Book. Either! I've asked about your family like five times and you just grunt and change the subject! You don't get to—"

Poke.

"—lecture me—"

Poke.

"—about secrecy!"

Scott's hands were up in full surrender, eyes wide.

"Okay, okay, I kinda walked right into that one."

Emma deflated and her shoulders sagged.

She cupped his cheeks, thumb brushing his jaw.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. She just… showed up. No text. No call. Poof, there's my mom in our friggin living room wearing a robe that's ninety percent cleavage."

Scott smirked and held her hand.

"Can you really blame her though? Bet she heard all the legendary Scott stories you told her and couldn't resist meeting the man, the myth, the—"

Emma scratched the back of her neck.

"Uh… about that."

She awkwardly avoided looking at him.

Scott's smirk faltered.

"Em."

"I… maybe haven't exactly mentioned you exist?"

He blinked. Twice. Then slow-clapped.

"Wow. Wow. Okay. Cool, cool, cool."

"It's not like that!"

She waved her hands frantically.

"We only talk about Love Island! That's it! That's the entire list! Love Island and occasionally Botox!"

Scott turned back to the walk-in closet.

"It's fine. I don't talk to my parents at all, so glass houses, et cetera."

He started flicking through hangers.

Emma winced at the quiet hurt under his casual tone then padded after him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind as she pressed her breasts against his back and her cheek between his shoulder blades.

"Aww, baby… do you wanna gush to someone about how insanely sweet and perfect your girlfriend is?"

She kissed his shoulder blade.

Scott exhaled through his nose.

"Kinda, yeah. Got this whole harem of incredible women and no one to brag to about how Nadia can make me cry with a single crepe or how you snore like a little when you're really tired and it's cute as hell. Or how Gwen being a tomboy is a massive turn on in bed even though I'd never admit it to her even if I was tortured."

Emma melted against him.

She never pushed about his family; the topic was a landmine with the pin already half-pulled.

Then Scott froze.

"Wait. Where the hell are my compression shirts?"

He threw some clothes aside.

"All my sleeveless stuff is gone."

He started yanking open drawers like a mad man.

Emma rocked on her heels, whistling innocently.

Scott spun around, eyes narrowed.

"Emmaline."

"What?"

"My clothes. Where."

"I don't know what you're—"

"Your voice just went full Minnie Mouse. You only do that when you're full of shit."

Emma's whistle climbed another octave.

"I do not—"

Scott crossed his arms with an arched brow.

She cracked in three seconds flat.

"Fine, fine! I hid them in the secret compartment so Mom doesn't see your stupid perfect abs and try to add you to her collection of drained virgin men!"

"I'm not a virgin tho—"

"Same thing." Emma cut him off.

Scott stared. "…There's a secret compartment?"

Emma pulled out her phone, tapped once, and an entire wall panel slid open to reveal rows of his missing workout gear and some of Marcus' games she confiscated.

Scott let out a low whistle.

"This place keeps getting more expensive."

Emma leaned in the doorway, biting her lip.

"I trust you. I do. Just… be careful, okay? You and I both know you're a loyal boyfriend and all, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful around them. Both Mom and Isla are professional man-thieves. Like, Olympic level."

She drummed anxious fingers on the frame and reluctantly slipped out.

Scott shook his head, chuckling.

"It's never that serious."

He pulled his shirt over his head.

Out of nowhere, Isla was in front of him.

Just two feet away and smiling beautifully.

Early twenties, same amber eyes as her mother, same pretty cheekbones. Arms loosely folded under her breasts that were just as perky as Emma's, head tilted, lips curved in a mild and charming smile.

She stared unapologetically at his bare torso.

Scott stumbled back into a row of Italian loafers and nearly brained himself on a tie rack.

Isla took closer steps to him.

"Mmm ♥️"

Her giggles sound unnecessarily sexy.

Scott's bare back hit a shelf of limited-edition sneakers as Isla advanced with the calm, smiling certainty of a shark that already smelled blood in the water.

She was close enough now that he could smell her sweet perfume that filled the air.

"Hi again…"

Her voice was like delicate bells.

Scott took another step back and immediately stepped on a crystal-encrusted belt buckle.

"Ow, fuck,"

He hopped, arms windmilling, then crushed what felt like a $900 cashmere beanie under his heel.

In his head it was a screaming loop.

『Left, left, the exit is LEFT, why the fuck am I walking deeper into the damn closet!』

Isla suddenly spun away, hands clasped behind her back like a curious schoolgirl touring a museum. The tiny pleated skirt she definitely hadn't been wearing an hour ago swished with every step.

He could see her panties a little.

They were a pristine white color and tight enough for him to see the outline of her thick lips.

And it's certainly not the one on her face.

Scott's brain short-circuited.

Each little bounce made the hem flirt higher to show the bottom curve of a criminal ass. Perky. Tight. The kind that made good men consider bad decisions and bad men write apology letters to their mothers.

With every step one thing would jiggle.

Either her propped up breasts that didn't know how to fall or her thick round butt cheeks.

『She was in jeans earlier. She changed. She CHANGED INTO THIS ON PURPOSE. Emma was not joking. These women are actual felons.』

"It's been forever since I've been in Emmy's room."

Isla mused aloud, tilting her head at a row of Gwen's hoodies with a disgusted look.

"Ugh, so last season."

Scott used the distraction to snatch a plain white tee from the nearest hanger and yank it over his head in one frantic motion.

Isla glanced back just as the fabric cleared his eyes.

She clicked her tongue, disappointed.

"Boo. That shirt's boring."

She bit her lower lip.

"You should wear sleeveless."

She reached past him (close, very close) and plucked a black compression tank off a hanger.

"Men would kill to look like you do. Don't hide it."

Before Scott could protest, she was already tugging at the hem of the shirt he'd just put on.

"Whoa, hey, no need—"

"Why not?"

Isla smiled up at him, amber eyes glittering.

"Don't boys like having pretty girls in miniskirts slowly undress them? Doesn't it make you feel all powerful and spoiled… like I'm your little servant girl."

She giggled in a sexy manner.

Scott gulped slowly.

『Is this porn? No one talks like this…』

Her dainty fingers brushed his abs as she pulled the shirt up and off again.

Scott caught her wrists.

"I, uh… Emma and I do servant roleplay on weekends so I think I'm good, thanks."

Isla giggled, completely unbothered, and freed the tank from his grip.

"Hold still."

She rose on tiptoes, sliding the sleeveless over his head like he was a toddler. The moment his arms were up, both her soft palms landed flat on his chest.

She pressed her nose against his underarm.

SNIFFFF~

It was a disturbingly long sniff that ended with a moan.

"Mmm ♥️ so much cold sweat… very manly…"

Her thumbs brushed over his pecs in small circles that felt like cannons going off in his nervous system.

"Has Emma ever sucked your nipples before?"

Scott's breath hitched.

"Isla—"

"Shh."

She pressed just a fraction closer, then nudged her tender knee gently between his thighs.

A tiny, teasing press.

Her eyes flicked down, then back up, lips curving into the cutest, evilest smile he'd ever seen.

"Did I just feel something twitch, Scott?"

He grabbed her wrists again, lowering them firmly.

His voice went stern.

"Of course you did. I'm a guy, not a monk, so let's not act like little kids here. But that doesn't mean I'm on the menu. I'm with Emma, YOUR sister. Crystal clear?"

Isla winked. "Crystal."

He exhaled in relief and reached for the tank top.

Tap tap.

Her finger on his bare shoulder.

The second he turned, she surged up on her toes and kissed him.

Not a peck. Not in the slightest…

A full, deep, filthy kiss, tongue and all, like she was trying to catalogue the taste of him for later blackmail.

Scott's brain blue-screened for half a second before he tried to pull back, but her hand was already fisted in his hair and her breasts squished into his torso as she held him exactly where she wanted.

Her small hand slipped for his crotch.

And that's when Emma walked in.

She stopped dead in the doorway, head tilted with one brow arched so high it nearly touched her hairline.

"Really?"

Isla broke the kiss with a soft pop and smiled sweetly over Scott's shoulder.

"Oh, hey sis."

Scott's mouth opened, closed, opened again.

"Emma, your sister just, she—"

Emma lifted a single hand, traffic-cop style.

"Ambushed you? Yeah. Smells like Isla in here."

She stepped forward and started smoothing Isla's hair like a mom fixing her kid before school photos.

Scott stood there nodding like a proud five-year-old who just tattle-taled.

『Yes, ma'am, she started it.』

Emma's voice went ice-cold sugar.

"I don't even know why you're here. You've never visited me or Adeline without an ulterior motive in your life and I'm just waiting for when it all blows up in your face and your stupid ass has to tell me."

She clicked her tongue.

"Backstabbing bitch…"

She snatched Isla's wrist.

"Come on."

Isla yelped dramatically.

"Ouch! Easy, you're gonna bruise me! I just got this new La Mer cream, if you're jealous of my glow you can just ask and I'll have them get you o—"

Emma dragged her out like an overdue library book.

Scott called after them. "Hey, go easy on her!"

Emma gave him a tiny nod without looking back.

Two minutes later.

They were in one of the many empty guest rooms.

Emma shoved Isla inside and shut the door.

Isla yanked her wrist free and massaged it.

"Jeez. Possessive much?"

Emma crossed her arms.

"Let me guess the plan. Catch us kissing, make me flip out like some insecure bitch then you swoop in and comfort poor heartbroken Scott? Classic Isla."

Isla rolled her eyes.

"Please. I don't need to trick him. He'll come to me all on his own."

"Get it through your head. He's. Mine."

"Relax. I'm just visiting."

"Then visit the kitchen. Go be useful for once in your spoiled life."

Isla's face twisted.

"Wouldn't need to if you could boil water without setting off the smoke alarm."

She flounced to the door, yanked it open, then paused.

Turned back with a venomous little smile.

"Better watch him close. Because I'm going to have that boy eating between my legs by New Year's. And we both know he'll like the prettier, younger sister better."

She slammed the door so hard the frame rattled.

Emma stood there for a long second, fists clenched as she breathed through her nose.

From the hallway came Isla's sing-song voice.

She was already halfway down the stairs.

"Scottie~! How do you like your eggs~?"

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.

"This month is gonna kill me."