“I know.”
They don’t kiss again. They don’t need to. Something has shifted between them—a door that was locked for years now standing open. Whatever comes next, whenever it comes, they both know it’s coming.
I’m so turned on I can barely breathe.
Seth crosses the room to collect me.
“Your turn,” he says, and there’s heat in his eyes but also patience. “If you want.”
“I want.”
He leads me to the wide chaise near the windows—big enough for three, which becomes relevant when Thane follows us over.
Not asking. Just present. Already done with Wes but not done for the night.
Seth doesn’t tense. Four years ago, he would have—would have seen Thane as competition, as threat, as someone trying to take what was his. Now he just shifts to make room.
“Both of you?” I ask, and my voice comes out breathier than I intended.
“If you want,” Thane says. His silver eyes are dark with hunger. “We’ve discussed it.”
“You’ve—wait, you talked about this?”
“Occasionally.” Seth’s mouth quirks. “When you’re not around.”
The image hits me—the two of them, heads bent together, talking aboutme, aboutthis, planning how they’d take me apart together. Heat floods through me.
“Yes,” I manage. “Gods, yes.”
Seth pulls me into his lap, my back to his chest, and Thane kneels between my spread thighs. For a moment, no one moves.
Then Thane leans in—but not toward me.
He kisses Seth.
It’s not brief this time. It’s deep and filthy, tongue and teeth, and Seth groans into it while I watch from inches away. Thane’s hand comes up to grip Seth’s jaw, angling him deeper, and Seth’s cock twitches against my ass.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Thane pulls back, lips wet, eyes blazing. “You like that.”
It’s not a question. He can probably smell how much I liked it.
“Do it again.”
Thane’s smile is sharp. “Bossy.”
But he does it again—kisses Seth over my shoulder, deeper this time, dirtier. Seth’s hands tighten on my hips, pulling me back against him, and I can feel how hard he is through his pants, his cock straining against the fabric and pressing into the curve of my ass.
Thane’s hand slides between my thighs while he’s still kissing Seth. His fingers find me—soaked, ruined—and he makes a low sound of approval into Seth’s mouth.
“She’s dripping,” Thane says when he finally pulls back, his lips wet and swollen. “Just from watching us kiss.”
“Told you she would be.” Seth’s voice is rough. His hips roll up against me, grinding his cock against my ass. “She’s been thinking about this for months.”
“Years,” I correct breathlessly. “I’ve been thinking about this for years.”
“Then let’s stop making you wait.”
