Chapter 3: Stacked

Jordan did not talk.

He held her hips to the coffee table and fucked her in long thick strokes that made Ryan’s and Nate’s mess push out around him in wet little sounds. Tessa’s head hung off the edge. The lake was a black rectangle in the glass. Cole sat in the groom’s chair with the torn crown now on the armrest and watched his girlfriend take his quiet friend like a job.

“She’s looking at you,” Jordan said, finally, not looking at Cole.

“She should.” Cole drank. “Dev. Phone down. You’re up. You can film after you earn it.”

Dev swore, locked the screen, and almost tripped getting his jeans open. Jordan pulled out slow. Three men’s come followed in a heavy string and slapped the wood between her cheeks. Dev stared at it like he had never seen a body do that, then shoved in because staring was not what they had paid for. He was sloppier. Faster. He folded over her and came in less than a minute with a helpless noise, pulsing in on top of the pile, forehead on her sternum.

Four.

Tessa’s laugh came out wrong. “That’s your friends.”

“That’s the booking,” Cole said. He stood. He set the beer down. He took Dev’s place between her thighs and looked at the wreck of her — open, shining, leaking down onto the table edge — like he was checking a receipt. “Three weeks. You told me family. You put my watch in your hair this morning.”

“I didn’t know—”

“You know now.” He shoved into her in one stroke that seated him to the root and made her grab at nothing. He was harder than the rest of them, meaner with it, because he knew her body and he was using the knowledge like a weapon. “Say whose girlfriend they just came in.”