“Maybe,” Ryker says, his voice low and seductive. “But it feels so good, doesn’t it?”
I don’t answer, lost in the sensations. Zane leans in and starts licking at my pussy. I moan, my hips bucking. I open my eyes and see Dominic’s and Ryker’s cocks touching, though they don’t seem to notice, too intent on me. My breath hitches. I’m so turned on.
The game goes on, each spin bringing us closer to the edge. The guys are all cheating now, their hands and mouths exploring my body. I’m lost in a haze of pleasure, my body aching for more. I can feel myself getting closer to the edge, the tension building with each touch, each kiss, each caress. I want them all.
And fortunately for me, I can.
46
ELLIE
SIX MONTHS AFTER THAT
Iwake up to laughter.
Not loud—soft, muffled, the kind that wraps around me before I’m even fully conscious. The scent of coffee and something sweet drifts down the hall, and before I can sit up, the bedroom door swings open.
“Happy birthday!” Landon sings far too cheerfully for the early hour.
I groan, dragging the pillow over my face, but I’m already smiling.
Beckett crosses the room and steals the pillow away. “No hiding. It’s your special day, and we intend to worship you like the goddess you are.” He freezes, his face draining of color, and whispers, “Too soon?”
I snort.
Dominic appears beside the bed with a tray. Pancakes stacked too high, whipped cream threatening to spill over thesides, strawberries arranged like someone tried very hard. Zane has frosting on his thumb, and Ryker—quiet as ever—sets a mug of coffee on the nightstand, exactly the way I like it.
“You remembered,” I murmur.
Ryker’s mouth tilts up. “Always.”
They crowd onto the bed with me, stealing bites of pancakes, feeding me strawberries, arguing about who messed up the batter. Zane swears it was Beckett. Beckett swears it was Dominic. Dominic swears he followed the recipe. Landon just laughs and kisses my shoulder.
By the time breakfast is over, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
The day unfolds like a surprise I never quite see coming. Gifts appear one by one—not rushed, not overwhelming.
Landon gives me a worn paperback, the kind with cracked pages and love pressed into every margin. “My favorite book,” he says softly. “I wanted you to have my copy.”
Beckett’s gift is bold—a dress he designed himself that instantly brings tears to my eyes. It’s midnight blue, the kind that shifts depending on the light—almost black in shadow, glowing soft and luminous when the candles catch it. The fabric is silk-smooth, cool beneath my fingers, heavy enough to drape perfectly but light enough to move when I breathe. It’s sleeveless, with a fitted bodice that hugs me like it was measured directly from my skin—which, knowing Beckett, it was.
The neckline is my favorite part. A gentle sweetheart curve, elegant instead of flashy, framing my collarbones just right. The back dips lower than I expect, not scandalous, just daring enough to make my pulse jump. A thin ribbon ties there, hand-stitched, the ends finished with tiny silver beads.
“I love it,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes.
Beckett kisses me tenderly. “Not as much as I love you.”
Dominic’s present is practical but thoughtful: a leather-bound journal, my initials embossed on the corner. “For your music,” he says, voice steady but eyes nervous.
I don’t compose often anymore—though I do work as a music teacher at the local elementary school—but Dominic must’ve remembered me telling him I would like to start again.
My heart swells with love, and I kiss him fiercely, putting all my feelings into the press of my lips against his.
Zane hands me a box filled with Polaroids—moments I didn’t even realize he’d captured. Me laughing. Me sleeping. Me loving. “I wanted you to see yourself the way we do.”
Ryker waits until last. His gift is simple—a bracelet, silver and solid, warm from his hand. “Something to remind you,” he murmurs, “that you’re never alone.”
I can’t stop crying after that.
