Page 70 of What We Burn

“Rise and shine, people! We’ve got⁠—”

Milo stops. Takes in the scene. Me between Sage’s legs. Her flushed and breathing hard.

A normal person would apologize and close the door. Milo has never been a normal person.

“Well, well, well.” He leans against the door frame, arms crossed, grinning like a man who’s won a bet with himself. “Starting without me. That’s rude.”

“Milo,” I say. “Get out.”

“Sure. Absolutely. Just one quick question.” He’s already pulling his shirt over his head. “How late can we be?”

“Milo—”

“Because I’m doing the math and I think we can shave the drive down to forty minutes if I take the back roads, which gives us⁠—”

“Milo. We don’t have time for⁠—”

Sage laughs. It’s the first full laugh I’ve heard from her in days.

“We can be a little late,” I say.

Milo kicks the door shut, and his shirt hits the floor. “Kitten. Permission to join the party?”

“Permission granted.” Sage props herself up on her elbows, and Milo crosses the room in four strides, drops down on the edge of the bed, and traps a lock of her hair between his fingers, twirling it slow and lazy.

“Kitten,” he says, “you look like you’ve been very, very good. Or extremely, irretrievably bad.”

“Both.” She flashes him a reckless smile. “Depends on who you ask.”

Milo leans in and kisses Sage before I can object—his hand sliding into her hair, tilting her head back, playful and deep, and the small, needy sound she makes goes straight through me.

He pulls back just enough to look at me over her shoulder. “You just gonna watch, detective? Or participate?”

No. I’m not.

His hand covers her breast as he locks eyes with me and goes back to kissing her.

My dick throbs.

I sink my teeth into her hip, just hard enough to make her jolt, and she jerks her head to the side, breaking the kiss, her eyes flying open. I pin her with my hand flat on her stomach and meet her gaze as I kiss lower.

She’s dripping. When my fingers find her she rocks into my hand with a sound that makes Milo groan against her skin.

“Fuck, kitten. The sounds you make.”

“She’s been making them for a while,” I say. “You just have bad timing.”

“I have exceptional timing. You were wasting valuable minutes on foreplay.”

“Foreplay isn’t wasting⁠—”

“Boys,” Sage says, breathless, her hand tightening in my hair. “Less talking. More—” She gasps as I swipe my tongue over her clit and curl my fingers inside her. “That. More of that.”

I work her slow and deliberate—two fingers, then three, my tongue circling while Milo pins her back against his chest, his hands roaming her body, his mouth adding new marks on her neck that she’ll need the scarf to cover. She’s caught between us, writhing, her head falling back against Milo’s shoulder.

“Holden— I need⁠—”

“I know what you need.”