When her buzzer rang just after seven o’clock two weeks later, Callie nearly jumped out of her skin.

Jesus. At this rate, I’ll be dead of stress before Ale even gets here.

She’d asked Gabe to arrive early. They hadn’t seen each other in person in weeks. Not since the kiss that had left her boneless on her front stoop before Gabe strode off without a word.

Defogging her brain had taken most of the following day, but once her senses were in order again, she’d emailed Gabe. With some hesitation, to be sure, because Callie was mostly convinced she’d imagined the sexual tension—more than that, the intensity—that had hung heavy on Gabe’s final words to her. She blamed Ale. All that Dom stuff wasn’t just turn-her-inside-out hot. It also fucked with her head, making her feel all vulnerable and needy.

In her post-Ale mental state, she’d probably read all sorts of undertones into Gabe’s request—but had it been a request? Really? Because it had felt awfully like a command, as if Gabe had absorbed some of Ale’s Dom-ness—to be present the next time she experimented with Ale. So she’d emailed, assuring Gabe that she hadn’t taken him seriously, and also that she felt perfectly safe inviting Ale to her place next time. She told herself the pang in her chest at her blithely carefree sentences was heartburn, not wistfulness.

Gabe’s reply had set her stomach fluttering and her nerves jangling.

I’m not worried about your safety. Okay, that’s a lie, I still am. But this isn’t really about that. It’s about last night being incredibly hot and strangely intimate, even though I wasn’t in the room with you, and how much I wanted to be. It’s about me not being ready to let go of this connection between us, no matter how casual we insisted we were going to be. If you really want me to stay away, I will. But I want to be there. With you. I can’t imagine what kind of constant updates I’d need from you to not go out of my mind thinking about you if you tell me you don’t want this too. You once told me that everything you’d ever tried in bed was hotter when we did it together. Just saying. Keep that in mind. . .

And wasn’t that a kick in the ass. More than a decade before, she’d ended her relationship with Gabe—and had gone on to make a disastrous marriage in reaction to that heartbreak—because she’d needed Gabe in a way he hadn’t needed her. Or, at least, in a way he hadn’t been willing to let her see. And now here he was, openly telling her he didn’t want her to go off by herself to experiment further with Ale. Clearly stating his desire to be with her. She didn’t know what it all meant, but her imagination kept her up nights, tossing and turning and touching herself.

She tried not to see Gabe’s face in her mind when she came.

In the end, she’d sent Gabe a one-word answer to his email.

Okay.

Then she’d spent the next two weeks bouncing between exhilaration and panic. What the ever-loving fuck was she doing? Totally confused and unbearably aroused whenever she talked or texted with Ale to discuss the parameters of their next meeting, she’d adjusted her final plans to give her some time alone with Gabe before Ale arrived.

If the vibe between them was off, she wanted enough time to figure out what she was going to do. Let Gabe stay. Send him away. Cancel the whole thing and reschedule for another night. She had no idea what she’d choose, but at least she’d have thirty minutes in which to do it.

When she opened the door, cold winter air and her once-lover entered together.

Their greetings were comfortable and awkward at the same time. She felt Gabe staring at her when she hung up his coat in the closet before waving him into her living room, his gaze like the pressure of fingertips stroking her skin. She’d known him for so many years it was strange to realize he’d never been in this space before.

Conversation fizzled between them. At the same time, her awareness of Gabe, of his body, shot off the charts. The hairs on her arms stood up as if she’d stuck her finger into a light socket.

Words burst out of her like a balloon popping.

“This weird, isn’t it? Having you here to watch me. . .” she trailed off, unsure—actually unsure, because she didn’t know exactly what was going to happen with Ale, not just unsure of how to say it—how to phrase it.

“Fuck someone else?” A smile twisted Gabe’s mouth. She kept expecting to see pain or awkwardness, but Gabe looked . . . hungry. His eyes moved over her possessively. “I’ve done it before.”

“But not like this.”

“No, not like this.”

Because it was different. He’d watched her with other people sometimes when they’d been a couple, long, long ago. But they weren’t a couple now. They weren’t supposed to be anything at all to each other.

If we don’t mean anything to each other, then why do we keep insisting on being together while this is happening? A part of her wanted to ask him straight out. What’s happening here? Something is happening, right? I don’t think I’m imagining this.

But she wasn’t ready to have her the delicate tissue of her halfway-imagined fantasies torn by his denial.

The idea that they might be confirmed instead was even scarier.

The very air hummed with the tension between them as Gabe stared at her. She’d wondered at one point if she would forget he was there, Gabe sitting like a statue, heavy limbs frozen in pale marble, remote in a corner as her attention was held by Ale.

Now, with Gabe in the room, prowling from corner to corner like a large cat, steps silent on her thick rug, she wondered how she could have been so stupid.

Her head practically spun on a swivel as she tracked him with her eyes, unable to look away as Gabe stopped in front of a row of framed photographs on the wall opposite the windows.

Shit. Windows. She’d forgotten about those.

Better close those curtains before your neighbors get the show of their lives. The gauzy rectangles hung to the floor. She imagined the potential shadow puppet show cast on their translucence.

Maybe the blinds too.

She’d tried to figure this out in advance, but her brain had skittered like a nervous rabbit from one pre-planning thought to the next. The overhead light fixture is too bright. Candles? Ugh, I’m not trying to romance anyone. She’d caught herself contemplating how hard it would be to figure out how to install a dimmer switch and had gone ahead with the candles, before finally managing to shut down the anxious voices in her mind.

If she’d done something wrong, Ale would tell her and she would fix it. It was that simple. She trusted him.

Sometimes the Dom thing was lovely.

Gabe ran a fingertip along the plain black frame of the first picture in the row of photos. The black and white photographs appeared almost geometric from a distance, collections of curves and lines that shaded from deepest black to the blinding glow of light reflected off a smooth surface. Not until you were up close could you see that the pictures where close ups of body parts. The curve of a hip. The corner of a mouth. The soft pillow of a breast flattening against a bent leg hugged close.

“I recognize these. And the photographer.”

“You should. You introduced us,” she said, smiling at the memory. Parties in her twenties had often led to interesting connections. She couldn’t imagine doing the same thing now—agreeing to pose nude for a photographer—no matter how stunning the resulting images were. Now she’d be paranoid about the internet and revenge porn websites and Google search results of her name.

But at twenty-three, she’d known no such worries. Only a willingness to try new things, especially new things that involved sex or her body, engaging with people in ways that felt slightly dangerous and left her glowing with life and energy.

Older now, she was more cautious.

Callie snorted.

More cautious. Yeah, right. You’re about to let a guy dominate you in front of your ex, who you’re still mostly in love with, although you won’t admit it. Totally cautious. Sure.

Her noise caught Gabe’s attention.

The look in his eyes was intense, making her shift her weight edgily from one foot to the other.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, then regretted the word choice immediately. “Tonight. Here. I know this is . . . strange.” She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this.

“I told you.” His eyes never left hers as he spoke. “I want to be here.”

Gabe crowded into her personal space, and she backed up step by step until her butt hit the wall. She should have avoided him, or even just raised an eyebrow, which would have been enough to make him back off.

She didn’t want him to back off.

God, you are so fucked up. The temptation to just surrender to the inevitable—to give in and slide under this wave of need and want they felt for each other, had always felt, until she drown in it—was strong. She knew how it would end, in heartbreak and devastation, but maybe that was better than this constant pretending she didn’t want him.

Maybe any amount of pain was better than that.

He pressed his hands flat on either side of her head, and the thump of her pulse shivered at the sensation of being caged. Then he leaned in and laid his open mouth on the side of her neck. Heat flooded her body. She was pretty sure the top of her head levitated itself six inches higher. Every time he brushed against her hair, breathed on her, stuck the tip of his tongue out to taste her, her skin tingled until she was sure Gabe must be able to hear her, so turned on she was practically humming.

“If you want someone to boss you around in bed, I’m happy to oblige.” He set his teeth against the tendon on the side of her neck that tightened as she arched her head to the other side, instinctively opening up to his gentle assault the way she always did. Her body unfolded like an origami fan around this man. Without thought, every part of her reaching for him whenever he came close.

Then he bit. Hard enough to sting, sending a spark of pain shooting down her spine and making her back arch. God, that hurt so good.

So, not always gentle.

“You listen to me when I tell you to stop,” she whispered, eyes closed as the wet heat of him on her neck made her knees tremble. So hard to resist this man, when all she wanted was to throw him down on the floor and climb all over his body. Squeeze herself inside of him until they shared the same breath. Her pussy clenched, and she tried not to rock her hips forward until she could rub against him, but knew he felt the tiny motion. Knew it when he pressed his own hips against hers, sliding a hard thigh between her own. “I want someone who won’t.”

Gabe’s body against hers stiffened. “Callie—”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She didn’t even know what she was saying. Gabe would try anything with her, she knew that. She was reaching for Ale because otherwise she’d reach for Gabe, and setting them both up to fail by asking Gabe for something he couldn’t give her was something she wouldn’t do. She didn’t need strict monogamy in a relationship, but she’d learned their first go-around that Gabe’s refusal to put any limits whatsoever on a lover made her feel insecure, less than. She needed a lover who cared enough to want some limits, or she needed lovers with zero emotional attachments. Hence Ale, and a sexual adventure that wasn’t supposed to feature Gabe in any way, shape, or form. She was trying for distance. Distance and a distraction from this constant urge to go to Gabe, an urge that itched like a mosquito bite, always at the edge of her consciousness.

Yeah, I don’t think we can call it “the edge of your consciousness” when you’re literally hanging onto his belt and pretending you’re not humping his leg right now, my friend.

Having a rational conversation with the man when she was grinding her crotch against his leg was impossible. She was breathing faster too, her nipples tightening under her tank top, a detail she knew would be visible the moment he stepped away from her.

And Gabe wouldn’t hesitate to look. The way this man appreciated her body was half the turn-on right there. Made her feel like a walking fucktoy, in the best possible way.

No wonder she couldn’t make good decisions around him.

Her doorbell rang.

Thank god.

Callie ducked under Gabe’s arm and sprinted for the door.

Close call. This night is not about Gabe. He’s security. Don’t get involved.

Ale’s brisk cheerfulness when she opened the door to him blew away some of the cobwebs of desire Gabe had pulled over her skin. Their hug cleared Callie’s mind.

And set her skin tingling.

Formally introducing one’s Dom-for-the-night to one’s ex-lover was an interesting social occasion. She and Gabe had taken a seat in her living room on the couch, Ale on the armchair.

“Gabe, Ale. Ale, Gabe. I’ve told you both . . . enough about each other.”

The men shook hands, a grip that seemed to last slightly longer than absolutely necessary, and she offered drinks. Ale had brought his own water in a stainless steel traveling bottle.

“It’s silly, but my nephew showed me a video clip about this giant, swirling mass of garbage just below the surface of the Pacific Ocean. I mean, it’s miles across, all of this crap that’s been caught in the currents. A garbage island. He’s turned me into some kind of mad recycler. Eight year olds, man.”

She pictured Ale with a dark-haired child on his lap, pointing and chattering at a laptop screen, and smiled.

Ale didn’t waste any time before moving on from kids and waste management talk, however. Before Callie had a chance to prepare herself, he was out of his seat and pulling her focus as Gabe shifted off the couch and out of sight behind her.

“Stand, please.”

She liked that Ale said please, although her muscles were moving even before he’d finished speaking the words, lifting her to her feet without so much as a conscious thought. She was obeying that deep voice automatically.

But the please warmed her, almost as much as his murmured good girl did a moment later.

“I’m going to touch you now. You’re not going to move,” Ale said, keeping his gaze on her face.

She nodded her understanding, inhaling deeply as her pulse kicked up another notch. Her body remembered this. And wanted it.

Those fingers again. Trailing lightly down her arm. Skimming her hip. Every touch an echo of their last encounter, the memory including the watchful eyes of the spectators at the club that first time Ale had started to touch her. There, people watching had been an inhibitor.

Here. . .

Here, Gabe’s eyes were the only ones she felt on her and Callie had never not enjoyed that.

Not the only ones. Ale’s eyes count too.

Her brain stuttered.

Wait, not just count. They’re the ones that matter. Gabe doesn’t matter. Why are you thinking about the guy standing in the corner and watching? God, you’re a terrible sub.

“Callie.” Ale’s low voice, pulling her attention out of the death spiral in her head.

“Sorry.” She shook her head sharply, as if that would fling the distracting thoughts to the floor.

“Where did you go?”

She didn’t have an acceptable answer, so she lied. “I don’t know.”

Ale shot her a sharp look, but let her answer slide.

She couldn’t decide if that meant he was postponing grilling her, or if it just meant he was human, not psychic, and didn’t know she was lying no matter despite the omniscience she’d assigned to him in her imagination.

“Your mouth smells like cinnamon. I like it,” Ale murmured as he leaned in even closer, changing the subject.

“Thank you.” Her voice wobbled with nerves as the heat of him radiated against her skin, he was so close. “It stings when I put it on. The lip gloss.”

“And you like that.”

She nodded.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his breath whispering against her face. “Don’t open your mouth.”

He pressed a closed-mouth kiss to her lips, pulling back slightly afterward.

Ale licked his lips. “I can’t taste it, but I can smell it. And it does tingle, doesn’t it? Interesting.”

Before she could process the idea that Ale was tasting her lip gloss on his own mouth, he’d moved behind her. Lifting her arms, moving her legs, he stripped her naked in less than a minute, never saying a word.

Callie’s awareness of being a naked woman in a room with two fully dressed men was electric.

Once again, Ale was nothing like what she’d expected. In her imagination, all Doms were focused on making a sub do things for their own pleasure. She’d expected to be told to touch Ale, or suck him off. She found herself anticipating that, after being told not to touch him—with anything other than your pussy, you mean—last time. Her hands twitched at her sides, palms tingling as Ale watched her intently.

A soft noise from behind her.

Gabe moving to a more comfortable position for observation?

She couldn’t tell, but her spine straightened and her attention receded from the man in front of her to the one she couldn’t see.

A speculative look slipped over Ale’s face, eyes narrowing. Teeth biting at his lower lip.

Callie could bite that lip.

Jesus, her brain was a hot mess.

“We discussed restraints. Real ones, this time.” Ale’s voice commanded her renewed attention.

Callie shivered.

“Yes.” Yes. The mere idea of being restrained made her body’s hum rev higher, but she’d had hesitations.

“You weren’t comfortable with exploring that tonight, which is perfectly fine. I’m wondering, though, if you’d be open to restraints of a different kind.”

“What do you mean?” Her brain was too fuzzy. She needed things laid out plainly.

Ale shifted, turning slightly toward that spot. The black hole in her mental map of room. The corner that radiated tension—or intention—despite its silence.

Gabe’s corner. Where he stood and waited and watched Ale touch her. Callie’s fail-safe. The man she trusted enough to expose her everything to, physically, sexually, emotionally.

Not emotionally. That’s separate. This is bodies, not hearts. Maybe minds, because Ale sure does enjoy the mindfuck. But no hearts.

“I’d like to have Gabe restrain you.”

Aaaaaand there was the mindfuck.

Her shoulders tensed even as her stomach did loops and lust shot up her spine. A drawstring had tightened on her throat. She couldn’t speak.

Nodding would have to do.

Yes. Jesus. Fuck. Yes.

Ale’s answering smile was absolutely wicked.

“Are you okay with this?” Ale asked Gabe, lifting his chin to direct his question to the far side of the room. “You and I haven’t had much interaction.”

Gabe didn’t hesitate. His voice was gruff. Blunt. The hammer to Ale’s silk. “She sent me your chat session. I’m familiar.”

“And?”

“Anything she wants.”

“Excellent.” Ale’s voice, full of satisfaction. He was very pleased about something she couldn’t quite picture yet. “Join us. Please.”

Please.

Ale’s use of the word with Gabe deepened his invitation beyond the perfunctory. It sounded different from when he said it absently to her. An entire conversation in subtext was happening above her slightly stoned consciousness and she was missing it entirely.

Footsteps behind her. Slow. Steady. The heat of a large warm body behind hers. Not touching her. Not in any way she was supposed to be able to feel. But she could.

Feel Gabe.

Always.

Ale’s voice interrupted her before she could get sucked further into that spiral of obsessive thought.

“Sit on the couch please, Gabe. Callie, you will arrange yourself on his lap, facing me, legs spread over Gabe’s thighs. Hold her hands in your own, please, Gabe. Yes, like that.”

She didn’t look Gabe in the eyes as he slid between her and the couch, his knees pressing into the backs of her legs when he sat. Her gaze was locked on the floor as her face flamed. Her ass was pretty much in Gabe’s face and she could feel the heaviness of his breath brushing her naked skin.

Ale’s hands on her shoulders guided her down until she sat on Gabe’s lap, arranging her to his requirements, hands impersonal on her body.

Until suddenly those hands were very, very personal indeed.

The fingers Ale slid between her legs made her back arch. Gabe’s breath hissed out in a sharp stream behind her, his quads tensing beneath her thighs.

Ale proceeded to touch her, everywhere. Lightly. Hard. Playing her body like an instrument that sang beneath his hands, while at the same time he started the process of breaking her brain.

“What do you say to slow down, Callie?” Ale asked as he stroked his fingers through her hair, dragging her own scent with those fingers until all she could smell was her sex

“Yellow.” He’d told her they’d use a more formal protocol this time. She hadn’t expected it to make her breathing catch, signaling a start to something she both wanted and worried wouldn’t match her expectations.

“Good.” He tugged gently on her hair. “And what do you say to make everything stop?”

“Red.” She was ready to sink into the haze of submission, listening only to Ale, letting his words become her consciousness.

“Do you understand those safe words, Gabe?”

Callie stiffened. Gabe’s hands interlaced with hers spasmed until her knuckles protested. With his question, Ale brought Gabe deeper into the scene, making it clear that he wasn’t a piece of furniture on which Ale proposed to arrange her body without consideration, and it put them both on edge apparently.

“Yes.”

“Yellow is a pause, a chance to check in,” Ale said calmly. “Red is an immediate and complete halt to everything.”

“I understand.” Gabe’s voice was tight.

She couldn’t tell if arousal or irritation drove that tension. Then Gabe’s hands relaxed, loosening on her own for a moment before giving her a squeeze that said I’m here. No worries. We’re all good. As if her spine had been holding tension, she relaxed until her lower back pressed against his stomach.

Ale’s fingers were back between her legs. Sliding into her pussy while somehow avoiding all the parts of her that already ached for his touch. For someone’s touch. Even knowing Ale as little as she did, she knew she wasn’t going to get what she wanted anytime soon.

The questions were over yet either.

“I don’t think Gabe can see what I’m doing. Describe it for him.”

She couldn’t.

“You can.” As if she’d said the words out loud. Or as if he really could read her mind.

She swallowed. No way would a whisper be acceptable. She didn’t need to be told that to know it, even if Gabe could hardly miss hearing her voice tremble, with his forehead pressed against her nape. “He’s got two fingers inside me.”

“Why?” Ale’s voice was almost sly.

“What?”

“Why do I have two fingers inside you?” Those fingers twitched. Her body clamped down on them reflexively, making them feel thicker insider her. “Am I trying to get you off?”

“No.” He wasn’t either, damn it, and she was about to start writhing on Gabe’s lap with the need for more. The talking, the impersonal touching, the being on display, it all combined in her brain to create an intoxicating swirl of need and desire that made her dizzy.

“Why do I have two fingers inside you?” Ale repeated.

And she knew, the realization arriving with an explosion of warmth in her face and slickness between her legs.

“You’re checking to see how wet I am.” Because he was, oh god, he totally was. Just testing her to see if she’d, what? Spent the past hours thinking about what Ale might do to her? Imagining how he might touch her—or not touch her—and wondering how crazy with want he could make her?

Because she had. And been restless with it.

“That’s right. And are you?”

“Yes. Very,” she said, a mix of pride and embarrassment making her muscles tremble and her skin shiver. Talking about her body made her self-conscious, mostly because she was still off-balance with Gabe so intimately connected to her and Ale in a way she hadn’t anticipated, but at least it was only her body, not the secret thoughts in her head he wanted.

“And how do you feel right now?”

Busted.

But somehow she was becoming more excited at the idea of revealing herself, at this slow peeling back of her defenses Ale was engaged in, than made nervous by it. She couldn’t have done it with any other lover in the world except Gabe.

“Turned on. Self-conscious.” She thought that was enough, but Ale simply waited, so she dug deeper. Heat pooled on her cheeks. “Anticipatory.”

“Good girl.” The words giving her as much pleasure as his touch.

And if she’d thought he’d let her get away with a avoiding the truth because he had earlier, Ale burnt that belief to the ground as they really started to play.

“Raise her hands and hold them behind your neck please, Gabe.”

Gabe complied, breath hot against the side of her face as she leaned back into his body.

Ale had discovered how sensitive her underarms were and was proceeding to make Callie squirm until she couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t—” Maybe she should have agreed to restraints. Being cuffed and strung up—from what? Nothing in her living room would possibly do, but she imagined it anyway—by her wrists would at least prevent her from falling to the floor in a liquefied heap when her spine gave out. Her clit throbbed. If she could only get him to touch her there. “Please.”

She hadn’t thought she’d be reduced to begging so swiftly.

Not that the begging worked.

“Open her legs wider please. Callie, keep your hands behind Gabe’s neck.”

Gabe’s hard hands on the inside of her knees, pulling her legs farther apart. Ale’s hand under her chin, tapping for her attention.

She struggled to open her eyes through the haze of desire and pleasure. Ale stopped touching her long enough for Callie to pull the pieces of her brain together.

“When you two were together, you had an open relationship, yes?” he asked her at last.

“Why…? Yes.” She didn’t understand the question. What could Ale possibly care about what she and Gabe had done more than a decade ago? “Gabe encouraged me to explore. With him or without.”

“But you never did anything like this?” A scrape to the inside of her thigh that made her quadriceps tremble as Gabe’s hands tightened again, holding her still.

Ale looked at Callie.

“No.” She didn’t understand what Ale’s point was. Talking about her relationship with Gabe while Gabe sat silently behind her made her feel nervous and safe at the same time. A confusing state.

“Because you didn’t know you wanted to try it? Or because you didn’t trust Gabe to be the person you tried it with?”

Gabe’s hands clamped down on her thighs, easing immediately, as if he hadn’t meant to.

“I’ve always trusted him,” she said, voice steady. “I tried all kinds of new things when I was with Gabe. I’d probably have gotten around to BDSM eventually, but this was back when it wasn’t exactly something people spoke about.”

“Unlike today,” Ale said, a smile curving his lips.

“One of my co-workers told me her husband gave her an under-the-bed restraint system for Christmas, for Christ’s sake.” Another surreal moment that would have given her HR manager a coronary.

“Let me know when you want a recommendation for a good one. I’ll send you some links,” Ale said solemnly.

“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say.

Ale returned to his main line of questioning “And you liked it? Fucking him?”

Her face heated. Callie told herself to ignore it. Not as if he doesn’t know. Past orgasms were a dead giveaway, girl. But Gabe’s hands had tightened on Ale’s words, fingertips digging deeper into her flesh. The pressure felt good.

As if her answer mattered.

“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse. She tried to clear her throat, but her mouth was too dry. Hot. She was so hot. “I liked it.”

“Why?”

“Because he made me come,” she snapped out, nerves stretched to the breaking point with the fierce hum in her body pushing her feeling of exposure—the unpeeling of her skin with Ale’s words—higher and higher.

Ale pinched her nipple so hard she gasped. Heat bloomed in her pussy, a bolt of pleasure shooting up her spine, and Gabe’s hands on her were the only thing keeping her from thrashing herself off his lap.

“No lying.”

Her back needed to arch. Her hips, to shudder and roll. She wanted to rub herself against something, anything, like a cat. She remembered riding Ale’s thigh on the couch, and a spasm of need clenched her muscles tight.

“Why did you like it when Gabe fucked you?”

Ale’s hand, two fingers extended together, again, between her spread legs, but not going inside this time. Barely grazing her. Sliding through the wetness. Spreading it. Until she was slick and slippery everywhere and he still wasn’t touching her hard enough to make her come.

Her hips rocked, trying to push forward against those fingers. To force them closer. Harder.

Gabe’s breath was hot against her neck. His tongue stealing out to lick at the sweat on her skin as if he couldn’t resist tasting her, touching her. She dropped her head to the side, opening herself up to his mouth.

Sensations overwhelmed her. The hands at her knees, the mouth at her neck, her fingers in Gabe’s hair, Ale’s fingers circling between her legs, stroking to either side of her pussy but never touching her where she needed it. Driving her mad with the need to push herself against those fingers, but unable to move because Gabe held her still.

“Callie. Why did you like it?”

Wrestling words from her brain to her mouth was like swimming in taffy. Gabe bit at her neck, teeth worrying her skin. She gasped.

“Because I’ve always wanted him. Always.”

She felt it again. The tensing up of Gabe’s entire body this time, not just his hands on her thighs. And he was hard, so hard against her back, the rigid line of his dick pressing against her ass. Every muscle in his body tightening at her words as she plunged over the edge into orgasm.

Her head was tipped back on Gabe’s shoulder, her mouth open as moans echoed in her throat, pouring out of her like water as she shuddered and tried to breathe. Pleasure wracked her and wrung her out in trembling waves as Gabe wrapped an arm around her and held her tight.

Nobody spoke while she floated down from the ceiling, settling back into her body some minutes later as Ale petted her hair and Gabe rubbed his face against her shoulder, breathing hard in her ear.

“Aren’t you beautiful?” Gabe murmured when she opened her eyes again at last. He dragged a fingertip down her cheek. “God. Callie.”

“She’s stunning.” Ale’s compliment sounded like it was meant for Gabe, which made her feel some kind of way. “Watching her come is mesmerizing.”

She tried to picture it and shuddered with a sudden aftershock of pleasure. Legs spread over Gabe’s lap, shameless as she writhed on Ale’s hands, breasts rising and falling with each gasp for breath. The heat of her blush spread from her face down to her chest until she had to be pink all over.

If someone were filming this, it would be the dirtiest porno ever.

“Sit back and put her over your knee.”

And they weren’t done yet.