Page 39

“She’s close.” I hear Oscar declare. Her and I both. My strokes quicken, pressure building at the base of my spine as Z increases his pace, driving into her with a force that makes her gasp.

Vesper's body tenses as she comes undone. The sound that escapes her lips—half moan, half cry—pushes me over the edge. Release hits me like a freight train, my vision blurring as I bite down on my fist to stay silent.

As the haze clears, reality crashes back.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” a voice says directly to my left.

I nearly jump out of my fucking skin, spinning around with my gun raised before my brain can process who spoke. Hand still on my hard cock.

Talon stands in my doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His attention shifts from my face to the monitor and back again, his expression unreadable in the blue glow of my screens.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hiss, lowering my weapon. “Make some noise next time before you give me a heart attack.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch—just keeps watching me with that unnerving calm.

“Interesting surveillance angle you’ve got there,” he says evenly.

My stomach drops. There's no way to explain this away, no excuse that wouldn't sound pathetic. “It's not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Talon raises an eyebrow, stepping into my room and closing the door behind him. “Because it looks like you're watching our girlfriend get fucked while jerking off.”

Girlfriend? I’d never spent more than a few nights with my previous partners, so this is all new territory for me. Girlfriend does sound nice, though.Now is not the time to put a label on your relationship with Vesper, dumbass. Your hand is still on your softening cock.

I quickly remove my hand from my pants, fumbling to close the screen. “I heard a noise. Thought someone broke in.”

“And decided to watch the show instead of, I don't know, helping?” His voice remains even, which somehow makes it worse. Angry Talon, I can handle. This calm, measured Talon unnerves me.

“It wasn't like that,” I snap, though we both know it's bullshit. "I was checking security cameras when I saw?—"

“When you saw something private and decided to keep watching.” Talon moves closer. “And turned on the audio.”

I wipe my hand on my sweatpants, shame burning through me like acid. “Look, I fucked up, okay?”

“And couldn't help yourself.” Talon finishes, his voice dropping lower. “You know, if you wanted to join them, you could have just knocked."

I blink, thrown off by his response. “What?”

Talon's lips curve into something that's not quite a smile. “You think they'd mind? Hell, you think I mind? We're all dancing around each other. It might be easier to just have a meeting and schedule our time with her.”

My throat goes dry. “That's not?—”

“Not what? Not what you want?” He steps closer, invading my space. “I've seen how you look at her. It’s only a matter of time, Alex. It seems like anyone in her orbit can’t help wanting her. What was it you called it? Love square? Guess it’s a pentagon now.”

“I don’t—” I start, but the lie dies in my throat. There's no point. “Fuck.”

Is Talon right? Yes. Does it annoy me that not only has he caught me with my hand literally down my pants, but also my spying? Fuck yes. Should I have checked the lock on my door? Also, yes. Is he wrong about the four of us and the unhealthy obsession we have with the same woman? No. But, despite all of that, it doesn’t change what he just walked in on. Me, hands down my pants, getting off to Oz and Z fucking Vesper.

Talon moves closer, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. He glances at my desk—at the open feeds, the failed hacking attempts on Ricky's phone, the scattered evidence of my all-night obsession.

“How long have you had cameras in our rooms?” he asks quietly.

I swallow hard. "Since she moved in.”

“Does she know?”

“No one knows. It was just a precaution.”