Page 61 of Triple Play

Blake hasn’t said much, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s uncomfortable that we did that or, like me, uncomfortable with how much I liked it. Or maybe he’s begun to suspect something…I vowed I’d tell him the truth, or at least part of it. This could be our last day together. I don’t want to spend it sitting silently in a car. So when Blake slides in the backseat, I slide in with him.

Felix darts a look in the rearview mirror in question.

“To Florida, please,” I say like I would to a cab driver.

“What’re you gonna do back there?” he asks.

“Help Shira study,” Blake says just as I say, “Stay out of trouble.”

Felix gives an uh-huh like he doesn’t believe either of us. But he accepts Lilac’s keys from me and starts her engine.

“You really going to help me study?” I ask Blake as Felix navigates his way out of the lot and toward the highway.

Blake nods. “Do you have flashcards or something?”

I can’t resist. I run my hand up his thigh. Whisper, “I bet you were a really good student,” mostly to watch his slight gulp. “Straight As, a pleasure to have in class.”

He laughs. “They were easy classes.”

I move my palm up his leg, just brushing his cock where it’s thickening in his pants. He gives the mirror a glance as if he’s expecting Felix to catch us in the act. What if he did? Would he object—join in? Blake doesn’t give me the time to find out. He removes my hand from his leg and I’m about to pout with disappointment when he curls a palm at my waist, pulls me as close as the boundaries of our seatbelts and Lilac’s bench seat will let him.

He drops two fingertips just below my waistband. I’ve had men grope me all over—some at my encouragement, some despite my warnings to cut that out—but something about that small touch sends a thrill through me.

I overlap my hand with his, pressing his fingers lower.

He tilts his voice, a drip of honey in my ear. “Did you want something?”

I shift meaningfully in my seat. “Maybe you should find out.”

“You’ll have to be quiet or else Felix’ll hear.”

“He might not mind,” I whisper. If anything he might like it. But no, that’s a thought that we left back at the hotel.

Felix, possibly hearing his name, gives another of those glances in the mirror. Does he know what we’re doing? There’s a fine line between sneaking around and excluding him.

“I can be quiet,” I add. It comes out throaty.

I half-expect Blake to shake his head, to tell me he’s just joking. To make me get out flashcards. His fingers push lower. “What’s the most times you’ve come in a day?” he asks, matter of fact, and I can’t help the slight puff of laughter that escapes me.

“You feeling competitive?”

He hums in agreement. “I like knowing what I’m up against.”

I can’t help it—I glance toward the front seat. Is this about Blake being territorial or something else? Being a pawn in a game between them wouldn’t be so bad—except for the flash of hurt in Blake’s eyes that morning.

Blake must feel me tense. He withdraws his hand and shifts to the safety of a few inches away. “You’re right, we shouldn’t.”

“Do you not want to?”

“There hasn’t been a second in this last month together where I didn’t want you.” A month together. As if he started counting the time we were committed to one another from the moment we met.

My heart clenches anxiously. As much as I don’t want to, I have to tell him about dancing. I wish everything could be as easy as it was last night, when the world seemed wide open, the three of us floating in a bubble.

Except all bubbles eventually have to burst. I shouldn’t be surprised that mine will too.

We’re two hours into driving, somewhere on the unending stretch of highway between Fayetteville and Savannah, when Lilac makes a noise.

Felix drove for an hour then finally admitted that he didn’t quite understand Lilac’s steering. Now he’s in the passenger seat. Blake’s sprawled in the back. He keeps shifting around like he can’t quite get comfortable. His shoulder, possibly. Or an extension of his earlier freakout that he denies is happening.

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