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She moves closer, putting her hand over my mouth. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” I ask, muffled by her fingers.

“You’re not a dick,” she says softly.

Her hand falls from my mouth, resting on my thigh instead, and I’m not sure where I prefer it. “I am,” I murmur, matching her lowered tone. “Dick. Tosser. Knobhead. Wanker. Pillock. Take your pick.”

She frowns, squeezing my leg. “Being British about it doesn’t change things. No one in this room thinks you’re a dick.”

“I do,” Masters pipes up.

I look over to find him leaning against the kitchen counter beside Aldo, as if they’re attempting to give us space. He grins at me, and I shake my head. “See?”

Joy gently grips my chin and turns me to face her. Her dark eyes search my face, her fingers stroking my beard so delicately I wonder if I’m imagining it. She’s so close, all I can do is stare at her and wonder what the hell is going on. I swallow hard.

Joy is beautiful most days, but tonight she looks a different kind of perfect. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, and her flowered dress clings to her breasts and hips, flaring out at her waist in a way that makes me want to slide my fingers underneath. She’s not wearing as much makeup as she did the night we were together. It’s a more natural look, making her eyes seem more innocent than the little minx who tried to suffocate me with her pussy and touched herself in front of me.

I swallow my groan as I remember that night. She was perfect.

Joy’s hand is still on my cheek, her eyes dipping from my eyes to my mouth. “I personally think you’re pretty great,” she says, close enough that I can smell the chocolate on her breath.

I turn my head, unable to stand the intensity in her eyes, but she just slides her hand into my hair, holding me in place. My heart races as I glance over at Aldo and Masters, convinced I’m going to find scowls on their faces. I don’t.

Masters is standing behind Aldo, his chin hooked over his shoulder, but it’s not a hug. Not when Aldo’s eyes are half closed, his shirt untucked, and his head tipped back as Masters’ fingers tease below the waistband of his pants. Pants that clearly show how turned on he is. Masters meets my wide-eyed stare and grins wolfishly.

What the fuck is happening?

JOY

Doug’s pupils dilate as he watches Lane tease Aldo, and I clench my thighs together. We might have agreed on the ‘Doug clause’ but I’m not sure I have the guts to kiss him in front of them. Because that’s what I really want to do.

A small part of me frowns at the thought of needing him, but I know it’s just brainwashing by society’s expectations. Or at least, that’s what Aldo told me when I confessed over coffee last week that I was feeling a little guilty about dating two men. Besides, it’s not one sided. Lane and Aldo enjoy each other just as much as I enjoy them. A soft moan pulls my focus from Doug, and I bite down on my lip as I find Lane kissing Aldo’s neck, his hand now completely down the front of his unbuttoned pants, stroking his cock. His dark-blue eyes meet mine and I know what he’s doing. He knows I won’t be the one to start this, so he’s doing it for me—showing me that it’s what we all want.

I look back at Doug, but he’s watching Aldo and Lane, his lips parted but with a small crease on his brow.Fuck it.I turn his head back to face me and press my lips to his.

He pulls back, only enough to stare at me in confusion, and I shrug. “It’s my birthday.”

His eyes narrow, but if he needs an excuse to get onboard with this, I’m happy to give him one. This time, when I lean forward to close the gap between us, he meets me halfway, kissing me in a way that has my toes curling against the rug.

The sound of movement causes me to open an eye in time to see Lane sit back down on his chair, pulling Aldo down onto his lap, still facing us. I try to focus back on Doug’s kiss, but I can’t keep my eyes closed as I’m drawn to Lane’s fingers unbuttoning Aldo’s shirt.

“You want to watch, don’t you?” Doug murmurs against my ear, his beard scraping my cheek. “Dirty little minx.”

My breath catches as he reaches for my waist and hauls me onto his lap, facing outwards, mirroring the others. His hands slide down my thighs as he kisses my neck and it’s a new kind of bliss as I watch Lane slide Aldo’s shirt from his broad shoulders, kissing each inch of skin as it’s uncovered.

Lane tugs Aldo’s shirt completely free and drops it on the floor, nudging his nose behind his ear and inhaling deeply before looking at us. “Your turn.”

My heart pounds, and Doug lets out a soft growling noise against my neck. Lane can read him like a book, and he knows it. By turning this into a challenge, there’s no way he’ll back down.

Gripping the hem of my dress, Doug slowly drags it up my legs, pausing right before my panties as if asking for permission. In answer, I raise my arms above my head. He pulls the dress off, dropping it on the floor, and nipping along my bare shoulder.

Lane’s eyes flash, but he just smirks as he runs his hands up Aldo’s chest, squeezing his pecs and pinching his nipples. Doug huffs a soft laugh against my spine, and then his fingers are unclasping my bra, dropping it to the floor beside my dress. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aroused. Sitting, exposed, as Doug’s fingers trace up my stomach, inching ever closer to my heavy, aching breasts, my nipples hard and wanting, while Aldo grinds against Lane, both of them watching with looks so hungry it starts a steady pulsing between my thighs.

When Doug’s fingers brush over my nipples, I arch my back, thrusting my breasts into his hands, my ass seeking out the hard edge of his cock.

“Aldo has more clothes on than me,” I gasp out breathily. “No fair.”

Aldo stands, shoving down his pants and toeing off his socks, until he’s just in his black boxer briefs. “Better?”

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