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Juliet’s fingers slipped into Tristan’s hair to hold him against her back as they all moved in tandem. He knew she wasn’t ready to take him again. They’d stretched her to her limit just a little bit ago, but Tristan rubbed light circles around her rosette. When her breath turned to a keening cry, he plunged his thumb inside her again.

She vised around the pad of his thumb, her knees locking around Randy’s hip. From the look on his friend’s face, she was locking down on him too. Randy’s eyebrows furrowed, agony etching his features as he was suspended in that space between release and pure willpower to drag it out.

Jules shook and arched between them.

“Come for us.” Tristan nipped her ear, crowding closer. “Everything. We want everything.”

He was beginning to think that was truer than he’d even realized.

Randy plunged inside of her, powering up into her until the bed rocked in response.

Tristan didn’t think there was anything left inside of him to give. His spine crackled and heat raced between his skin and hers. He fisted his aching cock, painting her hip as she cried out their names.

Not just one of them. Both.

When he came around again, they were still in a pile of bodies. By far, Randy was the most contorted on the edge of the bed. His spine was twisted at an unnatural angle, but Jules was nestled against him, her head on Randy’s chest even as her fingers were twined with Tristan’s.

Somehow they always nested together while sleeping.

In the past, Tristan had needed his space while he was unconscious. Until Jules. Until the three of them had learned just how crowded a king-sized bed could become.

And yet, when they had been gone, he hadn’t been able to sleep.

Tristan rolled onto his back to stretch the kinks out and slid out from under her.

Jules moaned and reached back for him. “Where are you going?”

He perched on the edge of the bed then bent to kiss her. “If we slept in this position any longer, we’d be in traction.”

She wrinkled her nose in that cute sleepy way she had.

Tristan nodded to Rand. “Look at him.”

She pushed a lock of hair out of Rand’s face. “He’s so good to me. Always makes sure that I’m comfortable, even if he’s broken.” She shifted up onto her hip.

In sleep, Rand moved into her, his arm looping around her waist to pin her in place.

Tristan grinned. “Ol’ Sparkplug doesn’t want you going anywhere.”

She elbowed Tristan. “I seem to remember you were Velcroed to my ass just a minute ago.”

Tristan shrugged and stood. “Who needs blankets when I’ve got one of the hottest bassists in the country

in my bed?”

She pushed her wrecked hair out of her face and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Super hot.”

Tris leaned across the bed and fisted his fingers into her hair, dragging her mouth up to his. “Hot," he said against her lips. He slanted his mouth over hers, savoring her taste as she curled herself around him. “Perfect."

“Only to you guys.”

“We’re the only ones who matter.”

She cupped his jaw. “There’s so much truth there.”

Her eyes were troubled, but before Tristan could ask if something was up, her belly growled. Loudly. Her dark eyes went wild and a giggle bubbled up between them. “Sorry.”

“When did you eat?”

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