LOGINLena woke up in Caleb’s bed. Her body ached in all the right places, a dull, thrumming reminder of the night before. Her skin tingled where his teeth had marked her, and her throat felt parched and raw from the cries he had pulled from her over the hours. The sheets were a tangled mess around her hips, and her legs still felt slick with the evidence of him.But the other side of the bed was cold.The door was closed, and the house had fallen into a heavy, suffocating silence. There was no more pounding music, no more laughter spilling from the kitchen, and no trace of the feral chaos that had led her to his room. There was only a half-empty beer on the nightstand and the ruins of her own self-control.She sat up slowly, her head throbbing. It wasn't the tequila. It was the crushing weight of what they had done. Sam’s older brother. Her best friend’s blood. The man who had spent the night using her like a personal addiction. The worst part was that she already wanted more. She wanted t
Lena did not mean to get caught again. She had promised herself that the incident in the bathroom was the end of it. She spent the better part of the afternoon staring at the ceiling of the guest room, trying to convince her racing heart that she could control the fire Caleb had lit with a single smirk. She told herself she could forget the way the water had beaded on his shoulders or the arrogant curve of his lips when he realized she was watching. But then she opened her phone. She watched the video in the dark, the grainy footage illuminating her face with a pale, flickering light. The sound of his breath, ragged and heavy, filled her ears. She watched the precise way his hand gripped the base of his cock, the veins standing out under his skin. When he finally groaned her name, his voice thick with a pleasure she had only ever imagined, Lena felt her own resolve crumble into ash. She spent the night with her fingers tangled in her own hair, biting the corner of her pillow t
Lena woke up to the sound of moaning. It wasn't the distant, muffled noise of the party downstairs, which had finally died down to a low thrum of bass and occasional laughter. This was close. It was a sharp, rhythmic sound coming from right through the drywall of the guest room. She lay perfectly still, her heart beginning to hammer against her ribs as she recognized the timber of the voice. It was a low, masculine groan that vibrated in the very air of the room.It was Caleb. She knew his voice as well as she knew her own name. She had spent years memorizing every inflection, every growl, and every rare laugh.The wall to her left pulsed with a steady, heavy rhythm. There it was again. A sound caught between a growl and a curse. Lena bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. Her thighs clenched instinctively under the guest room sheets, her body reacting to the sound before her mind could even process the reality of it. The air in the small room was suddenly too hot, thick with the left
The drive to the Maddox estate always felt like a descent into something Lena wasn't prepared for. Sam sat in the passenger seat, her blonde hair a messy halo as she touched up her lip gloss for the third time. She was talking about some guy she’d met on an app, but Lena wasn't really listening. Her focus was on the iron gates looming ahead and the heavy, familiar weight settling in her chest."You're doing that thing again," Sam said, snapping her gloss shut."What thing?" Lena asked, keeping her eyes on the road."The 'I'm just a quiet little mouse' thing. Lena, it’s a party. My parents are in Cabo, Caleb is hosting, and there’s enough liquor in that house to drown a small village. Live a little.""I live," Lena murmured. "I just don't feel like being hungover for Monday morning.""It's Saturday night. Live for tonight, worry about Monday when the sun comes up."As they pulled into the gravel driveway, the bass from the house was already vibrating through the car's frame. The Maddox
The heavy lounge door creaked as Michael’s hand clamped around Cathy’s wrist, his fingers a warm, bruising band against her pale skin. He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply stepped back, drawing her into the room. The air inside was thick, smelling of sweat and the salt of skin. Cathy’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her breath hitching as her gaze locked with Iris’.Iris didn't look startled. She looked hungry. Her blonde hair was a tangled halo against the leather sofa, her lips swollen and damp."Iris," Cathy breathed, the name barely a whisper. She reached out, her palm cupping Iris’ flushed cheek. Iris leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat before she tilted her head, capturing Cathy’s lips in a deep, desperate kiss. Their tongues tangled, a messy collision of taste and heat.Behind them, Michael shifted. His large hands moved to Cathy’s chest, his palms rough as he kneaded her through the thin fabric of her clothes. "Fuck, your tits
The following weeks were a blur of observation and growing tension. Every dinner felt like a performance, and every shared silence in the hallway felt like a challenge. Cathy found herself tracking Michael’s movements through the house, her ears tuned to the sound of his heavy footsteps or the low vibration of his voice when he was on the phone.The summer heat had become oppressive, settling over the house like a thick blanket. Michael and Iris were often by the pool, their laughter drifting up to Cathy’s window. Sometimes she would watch them from behind the safety of her curtains. Michael would be lounging, his bronzed skin glistening with water, while Iris draped herself over him like a colorful silk scarf. Cathy felt a persistent, gnawing ache in her chest—a mix of displacement and a hunger she refused to name.One Friday afternoon, the house was unusually quiet. Her mother and David had gone away for a long weekend trip to the coast, leaving the three of them alone. Cathy had sp







