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“You’re such a good girl for me,” he says. “Look at how well you’re taking it.”

“Please,” I beg. It sounds muffled, so I turn my head so he can hear me. “Please, please, please.” My head turned this way means I’m looking right at Tate and Ares, who are standing to the side of the bed. They both look like they’d be hard all over again if they hadn’t just come, and that does something to me.

“Oh, you want to be a good girl for them too?” Callan asks, chuckling. “Then show them how well you take it.”

I just keep nodding. At this point, I’d do anything they wanted me to do. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears, everything melted into a puddle from how overheated and turned on I am.

And then finally, finally Callan works the rest of his cock into me. He bottoms out, truly this time, and it’s like I forget how to breathe. I can feel him everywhere, stretching me open, filling me up. My body is wound so tightly that as soon as the blunt head of his cock hits that spot inside me, everything explodes. I come almost immediately, gripping around him desperately and coming undone with a sobbing cry.

Callan curses, and I feel that he’s right there with them. His cock twitches, spilling his release deep into me as he comes apart too.

My orgasms all day have been intense, but this is more than that. This hits me in wave after white hot wave of pleasure. My body locks up, and when things start to go fuzzy around the edges, I realize I haven’t been breathing at all. I take a desperate gasp of air, everything trembling in an effort to keep me upright.

But then, all at once, my limbs give out, and I collapse onto the bed, shaking and panting hard.

Callan collapses too, careful not to crush me. When he pulls out of me, there’s a rush of cum, and I’m so oversensitive that it almost hurts. I shudder as we lie there, trying to come down from such intense pleasure.

I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, I feel hands on my face. They smooth back my hair and someone holds a straw to my lips. I drink, groaning with relief when cool, crisp water floods my mouth. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.

There’s some murmured conversation over my head, and then I’m being lifted carefully into strong arms. Callan’s. He holds me close, carrying me into the bathroom.

This place actually has a really nice bathroom with a large shower and a deep tub. Callan tips his head in the direction of the tub, and Ares immediately goes to start filling it.

Tate starts rummaging through the toiletries provided for us until he finds a soothing oil to tip into the bath while the water heats up. Even in my hazy state I can appreciate the way they all seem to work together without ever saying a word.

Callan puts me in the tub and the others gather around. I don’t have to do anything but let them maneuver me, which is good because my head is still swimming and my muscles feel like they may as well be made out of Jell-O.

Ares starts washing my hair, while Tate and Callan soap up my arms and legs.

“Are you alive in there?” Tate asks, teasing. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?” There’s real concern there, and it makes me smile.

“I’m alive,” I say. “And no, it wasn’t too hard. I’m just floating right now.”

He chuckles. “Alright, good.”

The combination of exhaustion, hot water, and their pampering touches becomes so nice that I start dozing off before long. The guys get me out of the bath and dry me off, pulling an oversized shirt over my head before they tuck me into bed.

As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m sinking deeper into sleep, vaguely aware of Tate and Ares settling on either side of me.

28

TATE

I wake up the next morning warm and aware that I’m not alone in bed. A soft little noise draws my attention, and I look down to see Brynn still asleep. She makes another soft sound and nestles down deeper in the bed, her cheek pressing into the pillow.

The sight makes me grin and it makes my cock twitch. I wonder if she’s dreaming about what happened between all of us yesterday. I definitely dreamed about it, and I woke up hard. I indulge myself in looking down at Brynn during this quiet moment. Everyone else is still asleep, so I take my time, running my eyes over her the way I ran my hands over her before. She looks soft, her face slack, her eyes closed, her hair spilling over the pillows. She’s fucking gorgeous all the time, but especially like this, relaxed and unbothered in sleep.

She’s wearing my shirt, the one I put on her after she got out of the bath yesterday, and seeing her in my clothes does something to me.

It’s a flare of possessiveness, a feeling of wanting more, wanting to see her like this as often as I can.

I’ve always been one to appreciate a beautiful woman, to chase pleasure where I can get it, but I don’t quite know what to do with the way I’m feeling now. So I push it aside for the moment. I know myself pretty well, and I know I’m not the type who does ‘forever’. I’m not the person anyone would pick for the long term, and I’m not someone who would even choose to be that if they wanted me to.

I told Brynn that from the beginning. And it doesn’t matter here anyway. That’s not what this is. If it were going to get serious, there would be so much complicated shit to work out—including the fact that I’ve got no fucking time for a relationship or anything.

Working to get my biggest, most ambitious restaurant off the ground is taking up all of my time. It’s the culmination of my career. Something I’ve been building toward for what feels like my whole time in the industry. It’s going to take a lot of time and attention, and it has to be my priority.

But if we’re all just messing around together, having fun now that we’ve finally gotten all the awkward shit out of the way, then there’s no reason it can’t be just that. A little fun diversion until we all go back to our real lives at the end of this.