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Fuck, this is so much better than I imagined it would be. I groan as I swallow his salty release, his entire body relaxing beneath me, muscles turning to Jell-O.

“Alex,” he breathes my name so softly I barely hear it.

The sound of his curse is like a balm to my soul as his fingers find my hair and he grabs a fist full of it. He doesn’t grab it as tightly as I expect him to. His fingers slip through my locks lazily, that post orgasm high hitting its peak along with the alcohol, most likely.

Hailey rolls me over a second later, and he lets go. I’m so spent from the mixture of alcohol and arousal combined with the taste of him on my tongue that everything quiets.

I don’t fight her as she takes over, grabbing my dick as she straddles me where I rest between his legs.

Her mouth finds my cock with ease and the sounds of wet sucking fill the air.

She moves fast. My arms spread out beside me, my fingers brushing his just slightly.

He doesn’t move, nor does he touch me. But he doesn’t push me away either.

He doesn’t push me away…

My chest rises and falls as I settle my gaze on Mack.

On his glazed expression, on the rise and fall of his chest. I’m so worked up, feeling like I’ve just won my championship game as I lick my lips, tasting the remnants of his cum on my bottom one.

I grab my ring, twisting it between my fingers as I remember his firm grip.

I close my eyes, imagining it’s his mouth around my cock instead of hers.

Imagine that brutal mouth rendering me speechless, clearing out all the noise in my head.

Those fiery amber eyes challenging me and those thick fingers wrapped around my throat.

That vicious mouth making me beg for release.

When I open my eyes, staring into those perfect amber eyes, I let go.

“Coming.” The word barely makes it out of my throat before my orgasm hits.

A deep grunt of satisfaction leaves me as I come hard and fast, but Hailey takes it like a champ.

Ecstasy hits, and I’m exhausted all of a sudden.

I barely have the strength or capacity to move as Hailey leaves my cock .

“So fucking hot,” she says as I shift my position, laying my head against Mack’s thigh. The bed shifts as I close my eyes. I’m not sure how long I lay there, but I have never felt better. I barely hear the door shut.

“Mhmmm…” I murmur against his leg, wrapping my arm around him.

His fingers tangling softly in my hair is the last thing I remember before the darkness pulls me under.

The need to piss is prevalent, likely from the copious amounts of alcohol I’d consumed last night, but I’m too warm and comfortable to want to move.

I don’t remember getting under the covers, but the warmth is nice.

Being held is nice, too. A sigh of contentment leaves my throat as I curl closer to the warm body that holds me.

I smell the faintest scent of alpine and vetiver, breathing it into my lungs.

I love that smell. It’s how Mack smells.

The arms wrapped around me are tight, my ass pressed firmly against something hard and slick.

Instinctively, I back my ass up, feeling the familiar hardness against my asscheek.

The twitch of a cock—a wet cock, judging from the moisture beading on my asscheek—is like a bucket of cold water to my system .

The scent of alpine and vetiver. The solid hardness pressed against me.

Oh, fuck.

There’s no way…

I shift my body, turning in the tight embrace to look over my shoulder, and my eyes widen.

There, beside me, pulling me against his solid chest, lips pressed against my back is Jordan Mackenzie.

I take in the sight of him this close and slide my hand over his arms carefully. My head is pounding along with my heart as I take in the way his lashes stand out against his skin, the way his perfect, pillowy lips are parted.

The memory of just how sweet, yet how brutal those lips could be emerges in my psyche.

Along with other memories that are hazy.

I glance around the room, looking for any signs of Hailey, but there are none. It’s clear she’s gone. Light shines through the window, down on us like a spotlight, and anxiety laces through me.

No. No, no, no this was not supposed to happen like this!

I pick up the comforter just enough, confirming what I already knew as he presses his cock against my ass, and the panic sets in.

“Holy fuck,” I say, probably a little too loudly.

Mack groans, his voice tinged with sleep and exhaustion .

“What the fuck are you yelling about?” he says bitterly, and I know the moment is truly over. Because the second he opens his eyes and they meet mine, the blow comes.

“What the fuck?” he hisses. “Get the fuck away from me, Alex,” he bellows, his wide-eyed gaze turning to the one I know best.

His words cut me deeper than they should. I should just let it go, take the moment and enjoy it for what it was worth, even if he hates me.

Or finds me annoying, or whatever.

But his words sting, because it’s how he says them. Like I’m some threat to him, to his masculinity, to his cover.

Like somehow I’m to blame for the fact he might not be as straight as he thinks he is—as he pretends to be. Like this is somehow my fault, which makes me feel equal parts guilty, ashamed, and pissed off.

So instead of licking my wounds and giving him space to process what happened between us, I do exactly what I should not do.

I fight fire with fire. I fight back.