He swallows every drop as his eyes roll up to meet mine. His body tenses, and something wet and sticky hits the inside of my knee. A sweet peach champagne scent. A vibrating, stifled moan.
I loosen my grip on his hair, smoothing the locks down. “You did so well, Luc.”
He slowly eases off my cock, squeezing out the last drop with his hand and licking it from the tip before giving me a lazy, swollen-lipped smile. Beautiful.
“Come here.” I tuck myself back into my boxers, sit down on the couch, and pull his naked body into my lap. He stretches languidly like a cat, then curls around me with his nose at the base of my throat.
“Please tell me we will be doing that again,” he whispers.
“We will,” I answer. Though a seed of doubt creeps in, accompanied by guilt. What will Emily think of this?
I need her to be okay with it. I want her here with us next time.
Uninvited daydreams fill my thoughts. Images of Lucas and Emily. And Ava. For a brief moment, Knox is there too. I banish him as quickly as he appears. But the three betas? That might work for me. That might work very, very well.
28
EMILY
I’ve touched myself twice since Ava coached me through it two days ago. But it hasn’t been the same.
Knowing she was next to me, watching, listening, experiencing it with me, made it exponentially better. Not that it hasn’t been good the other times. It’s been empowering to know I can take charge of my own pleasure. I feel a little silly I didn’t figure that out sooner.
But… it still hasn’t been the same.
“What about this one?” Ava says, holding up a deep, inky navy gown. It almost looks black until the light hits it and reveals the rich midnight blue. Looking like poured silk through the bodice, it has thin, off-the-shoulder straps and a deep low V down the back.
I shake my head, mouth falling open. “I can’t wear that!”
“Why not?”
“It’s so… so…”
“Sexy,” Knox says from right behind me. I’m not sure when he moved so close, but the heat of him at my back sends a hot throbbing between my thighs. Ava may have created an addict.
“Try it on.” Ava pushes the gown into my arms, then guides me toward the dressing rooms at the back of the small shop. She comes in with me and closes the curtain behind us. It’s a normal action. Meggie and I have often shared changing rooms so we can try things on for each other. I’ve undressed in front of plenty of women in locker rooms before swim meets—even in front of Ava before.
But this time feels different.
The dressing room is small, barely big enough for the two of us. There’s a mirror opposite the curtained doorway and a small stool in the corner. A bar for hanging garments lines one wall. I fumble around Ava as I hang the dresses up, and she takes a seat on the stool. With my back to her, I lift my shirt over my head, all too aware of her presence.
I’ve never spent much time picking apart my sexuality. I loved Knox. And after him, I didn’t feel much of anything for anyone. No one drew my attention like he had. Maybe I thought that meant I was straight. Maybe I never questioned it. But now, I’m questioning everything.
Maybe it’s not about gender. Maybe it never was. Maybe it’s about attention. Affection. Safety. Desire.
Is it weird to only want people who want you back? A kind of responsive attraction? It feels real. And complicated.
I can feel Ava’s gaze on me as I slip the dress over my head, but I refuse to look at her in the mirror. If I look, I might give away my thoughts. And I still don’t really know what I’m thinking.
“You should probably try it on without a bra,” Ava says. “You won’t be able to wear one with it.”
It’s a casual statement, but it makes my nipples tighten. “Right,” I mumble. “Yep.”
My hands feel clammy, heart racing, and there’s an ache I can’t explain deep inside me, hot and heavy. I’m so… turned on.Reallyturned on. That’s what this is, isn’t it?
When was the first time I felt this? Do people remember that kind of thing? I don’t really remember learning about sex, either. I didn’t getThe Talkfrom my dad, but I put enough together from books and movies and overhearing stuff my friends said. Every teen magazine had some Q&A section that always had one write-in asking if their boyfriend fingering them counted as popping their cherry, and I remember reading my first grown-up romance novel and looking up the definition of climax.
Ellis always offered to answer any questions I had, but I wasnotgoing to talk with my big brother aboutthat. Health class was all about green discharge and sanitized genitals and entirely unhelpful other than managing to gross everyone out.
