Page 126 of One Adult, Please

"I locked the door," he says.

That's Joel's yes.

I take one step forward and immediately betray myself, foot catching on absolutely nothing. Beck catches me before I can complete the face-plant, hands steady on my waist, face inches from mine.

"You're shaking."

"I'm vibrating. There's a distinction. Shaking implies fear. Vibrating implies frequency. I'm at a frequency. The one where I want to touch everyone in this tunnel and my hands are trying to figure out the logistics. The logistics are complicated because I have two hands and there are three of you and that's a math problem, Beck."

He laughs into my mouth, the sound melting straight into a kiss that's hungry and bright and Beck. He shoves my hoodie up, fingers skating over my ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. My skin lights up brighter than the tunnel.

"Wait," I say, against his lips.

He stops instantly.

"Not wait-wait. Organizational wait. I need to... there's a sequence... I haven't figured out the... I should have made a crayon plan."

"Grace." Joel's voice is behind me. Joel moved without sound. "Stop planning."

His hand settles on my shoulder, thumb tracing my collarbone and I've never in my life thought of my collarbone as a meaningful piece of anatomy, but Joel is reclassifying it in real time. Beck's mouth moves to my neck. Grant is suddenly there too.

"I don't need a plan," Joel says, near my ear.

I reach for Grant's chest. My fingers find warm skin and a steady heartbeat.

Beck peels my hoodie off. I'm wearing a tank top from the supply bedroom that says WONDERSPHERE: WHERE MAGIC HAPPENS across the chest. Which is an aggressive piece of irony that I didn't plan.

Joel's hands join in, one on my hip, one sliding under the hem of my tank top.

"Off," I manage. "Everything off."

Grant's hands find the hem. He lifts the tank top.

Beck shoves my pants down my hips, and I step out of them before they can weaponize themselves against my ankles.

Grant steps in close from behind, his hands sliding around to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing slow circles over my nipples. "Perfect," he says against my neck. "Every single inch of you." He peels my panties down and helps me kick them free.

Joel's on my other side, fingers tracing my ribs, my stomach, then lower, dipping between my legs. "Fuck, Grace," he growls low, dirty talk kicking in like a switch flipped. "Already soaked for us."

He strips his own shirt off one-handed, then kicks his pants off. His cock springs free, thick and hard and impossible to ignore.

Beck laughs against my breast, the vibration shooting straight between my legs, and yanks his own clothes off in a whirlwind, revealing the lean, chaotic energy packed into every inch of him. He's hard too, grinning like trouble incarnate as he presses against my thigh.

Grant's still behind me, steady as ever, shedding his layers until his bare chest is warm against my back and his cock nestles against my ass.

Beck drops to his knees, mouth blazing a trail down my stomach, then looks up at me from his knees with pure mischief. "Permission to cause oral chaos?" Before I finish the nod, he's licking a stripe up my inner thigh.

Joel claims my mouth in a deep, filthy kiss that tastes like dirty promises. Grant's hands never stop moving, stroking my sides, my hips, holding me upright when my knees start plotting mutiny.

Fingers tease between my legs from multiple directions: Beck's tongue flicking my clit, Joel's thick fingers sliding through my folds, Grant's gentle press from behind.

Beck's tongue finds my clit and I moan into Joel's mouth. Joel's fingers spread me open for Beck while Grant holds me upright, lips on my neck, whispering, "Breathe, love. We've got you."

Beck hooks one of my thighs over his shoulder. His tongue is relentless, broad, flat strokes followed by quick, teasing flicks, laughing low every time my hips jerk against his mouth.

"Oh fuck, Beck." The words come out broken. The tunnel throws them back at me.

Joel steps in tight on my left, one arm banded around my ribs, holding me steady while his other hand palms my breast, calloused thumb dragging over my nipple. "That's it," he says against my ear. "Let him have you."