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I didn’t even want to fuck Xay.

That was the crazy part.

Probably because I wanted to fuck Levin.

Or maybe because Xay hadn’t barely been fucking me worth a damn in the first place.

Even when Xay started trying to reach for me again these last couple weeks, I wasn’t interested.

Then Levin sent me that fucking text.

Set ya phone up and fuck that nigga.

Crazy.

Disrespectful.

Sick, actually.

And somehow that shit had me wet as hell.

Not for my fucking husband either.

I’d set my phone up.

I’d fucked Xay exactly how I wanted.

And afterward, I’d gone into the bathroom, stared at that video for damn near five minutes trying to decide if I’d completely lost my fucking mind⁠—

then sent Levin a piece of it.

I still couldn’t believe I did that shit.

I bent farther into the refrigerator, moving a gallon of milk.

A hand smacked my ass.

I jumped.

“Good morning, baby.”

I rolled my eyes where Xay couldn’t see me and sighed.

“Morning, Xay.”

He pressed himself against the back of me.

“Last night was incredible.”

I chuckled, standing up with a carton of eggs.

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Even though I wasn’t being your quote-unquote sweet girl?”

Xay sighed.