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"Come on, baby," he murmurs. "Come for us."

I look up through hazy eyes to find Sergio looming over me. He's close, too, his gaze dark and desperate. He nods.

I close my eyes, focusing within.

It doesn't take long. Another few strokes of Cayden's cock against my inner walls and I'm done for. I grunt out my orgasm, my body rippling and pulsing. They keep fucking me at both ends throughout, and it's all I can do to hold myself up.

Just as my arms start to shake, Cayden slams home. He groans my name, gripping my hip hard. His release fills me, his cock pumping deep inside. Sergio pulls out a second later.

"Can I?" he asks, panting. "Wanna—"

"Yeah, do it—"

He strokes his spit-slick cock once, then twice. The first stripe of come lands on my cheek. I open my mouth to taste the next. He paints me one more time, then shoves back inside, finishing on my tongue, and I feel so dirty, soamazing. I come again, just like that, covered in come and filled with it and bracketed by two men.

They each pull out in turn. I collapse to the ground. Sergio disappears, then returns a minute later with a bunch of napkins.

"Sorry," he says. "I, uh…"

He came all over my face is what he did. I smile and wave him off. "It's fine. Sexy."

Normally, I wouldn't think so, but there's something about how quiet he is. His desire to mark me up speaks so many of the words he generally sees no need to. I'm listening.

Taking a few napkins from him, I clean myself up. Cayden helps me mop some of the stickiness from my thighs.

With a kiss, Sergio excuses himself.

Which leaves just Cayden and me.

"Ugh." I flop backward onto the rug. The fire is still going in the hearth, and normally I'd love the delicious heat, but I'm sweating after the workout I just had. I should put on my clothes, though. The other guys will be coming through soon, which isn't exactly an issue. If they wanted, they could take a turn.

Only…

The weird twist of embarrassment I've been fighting off ever since I entered into this arrangement curls painfully in my abdomen. I like getting fucked on the regular by all these guys. But sometimes it's too much.

Sometimes, I don't feel likeI'menough.

As if he senses my change in mood, Cayden drops down to sit beside my hip. He hands me my bra, and I rise to start to pull it on. He regards me for a minute in silence.

Then he asks, quietly, "Hey. Haley. You okay?"

Oh, hell. There's something to the way he poses the question, his voice tender and soft, and it makes the soft, tender parts of me pang. My eyes prickle. I look away, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head to buy myself a minute.

"Yeah," I finally say. "Of course."

I manage to make the answer sound bright, but I'm not sure who I think I'm fooling.

I get my underwear and pants pulled on, but that's it. Cayden puts a hand on my shoulder and tugs me around. His blue eyes are so clear, his brow furrowed. Behind the cover of his beard, he frowns.

"You sure? You've just seemed…off the past few days."

That's one word for it.

He isn't the only one to have noticed, either, for all that he's the first one to ask out loud. Everyone's been shooting me concerned or curious looks. I've brushed them each off with a smile, but maybe I haven't been as good at pretending to be okay as I think I have.

I shrug, still not quite ready to face how I'm feeling except with a paintbrush in my hand. "I don't know. There's just a lot going on, you know? Cleaning out my grandmother's house for one."

Relief spreads across his face, and I feel like shit. Yay, another half truth.