4-ETHAN

The office door was locked, the blinds half-drawn against the neon bleed from the street. The mirror still shimmered with faint white residue; the rolled bill lay abandoned on the desk like a spent cartridge.

Ethan’s skin buzzed, every nerve lit from the inside. The coke had sharpened the edges of everything. Victor’s cologne, the low throb of bass through the walls, the heat rolling off the lawyer’s body as he stood too close, one hip cocked against the desk.

Ethan looked at him, really looked. The sharp jaw, the dark eyes behind those wire frames, the way the charcoal suit clung to shoulders and chest like it had been painted on.

His cock was thick against his thigh again, aching, and this time the want wasn’t confused. It was clear. Violent. He wanted Victor. Wanted to feel that hardness grind against him without fabric in the way, wanted to taste the bourbon and coke on his tongue, wanted to hear the man who’d always been so controlled lose it completely.

Victor felt it too. The air between them was electric, thick with unsaid permission.

Ethan’s voice came out low, rough. “I’m bringing in the plaything from earlier.” Victor’s pupils were blown wide. He didn’t blink.

“Remy?”

Ethan nodded once. He reached for the desk phone and punched the extension for the floor manager.

“Send Remy up. Tell her it’s a meeting. Now.” The line clicked dead.

They waited in silence that felt like foreplay. Victor stepped closer. Their chests almost touched. Ethan could feel the lawyer’s breath on his neck, hot, unsteady. Neither moved to close the gap.

They just stood there, breathing each other in, cocks straining, hearts slamming in perfect, furious sync.

The knock came soft. Almost shy.

Ethan opened the door.

Remy slipped inside wearing the same short black skirt, the same cropped tank that barely contained her. Her nipples were already hard points under the thin fabric. She looked from Ethan to Victor, then back, lips parting in slow understanding.

A smile curled, wicked, eager. “Meeting, huh?” she purred.

Ethan locked the door behind her.

Victor moved first. He stepped behind her, hands sliding up her arms, then down to cup her heavy breasts through the tank. She arched into him with a soft moan.

Ethan closed the distance from the front, fingers hooking under the hem of her top and yanking it up. Her tits spilled free, full, perfect, dark nipples tight and begging.

Victor groaned low in his throat. “Fuck, look at these.” He bent, took one into his mouth, sucking hard.

Remy’s head fell back against his shoulder.

Ethan claimed the other, teeth grazing, tongue flicking. She whimpered, thighs pressing together.

Ethan’s hand slid under her skirt. No panties, just slick heat, swollen lips, dripping already. He plunged two fingers inside her without warning. She cried out around Victor’s mouth on her tit.

Victor lifted his head, eyes locked on Ethan’s. “Taste her.” Ethan pulled his fingers free, glistening. He brought them to Victor’s lips. Victor sucked them clean, slow, deliberate, tongue curling around the digits like he was starving. The sight sent a jolt straight to Ethan’s cock. They kissed her then, both of them. Mouths colliding over hers, tongues sliding, sharing the taste of her. Remy moaned into it, hands fisting their shirts.

Then Victor turned his head. Ethan met him halfway. The kiss was brutal. No hesitation. Tongues clashing, teeth nipping, hands gripping necks and jaws. Ethan tasted coke and bourbon and Remy and something darker, need so raw it hurt.

Victor growled into his mouth, hips grinding forward so their cocks pressed together through denim and wool. Hard. Aching. Perfect. They broke apart gasping.

Remy dropped to her knees between them like she’d been waiting for the cue. She yanked Ethan’s zipper down, freed his cock, thick, veined, leaking. She took him deep in one swallow. Ethan groaned, hand fisting her hair.

Victor shoved her skirt up, spread her thighs, and drove into her from behind in one hard thrust. She moaned around Ethan’s shaft, the vibration ripping through him. Victor fucked her relentlessly, deep, punishing strokes that rocked her forward onto Ethan’s cock. The wet slap of skin filled the room.

Ethan watched Victor’s face, flushed, eyes dark, lips parted. Watched the way his hips snapped, the way his suit jacket hung open now, shirt untucked.

Victor pulled out suddenly and spun Remy onto her back across the desk. Papers scattered. He dropped between her thighs, buried his face in her pussy, tongue lashing her clit while his fingers plunged deep. He looked up at Ethan, mouth glistening.

“Fuck me.”

The words hit like a fist. Ethan’s breath stopped.

Victor turned back to Remy, eating her like a man possessed, ass presented, suit pants still on but unzipped.

Ethan stepped behind him. Hands shook as he shoved Victor’s pants and briefs down just enough.

The sight, Victor’s ass, tight, muscled, waiting, made his cock throb painfully.

He teased first. One finger, slick with spit, circling the rim. Victor groaned into Remy’s cunt, hips pushing back. Ethan slid the finger in, slow, deep. Victor’s body clenched, then relaxed around him. Pleasure rolled off him in waves. Ethan added a second finger. Scissored. Victor cursed, low and filthy, tongue never leaving Remy’s clit.

Then Ethan lined up. Pressed the thick head of his cock against Victor’s entrance. Pushed. Victor opened for him, hot, tight, perfect. Ethan sank in inch by inch until his hips met Victor’s ass. The stretch, the heat, the way Victor’s body gripped him, it was fucking heaven. He started to move. Slow at first, then harder. Deeper.

Victor rocked back to meet every thrust, moaning into Remy’s pussy. She writhed under his mouth, thighs trembling, close.

Ethan fucked Victor like he’d been waiting years for this, hard, relentless, claiming.

Victor’s hand reached back, gripping Ethan’s thigh, urging him deeper. Remy came first—shattering, crying out, flooding Victor’s mouth. Victor groaned around her clit, body clenching around Ethan’s cock. That was it. Ethan slammed in one last time and came, hot, thick pulses deep inside Victor. The release ripped through him, vision whiting out for a second.

Victor pulled free of Remy’s thighs, stood on shaking legs.

Remy sat up, eyes glassy, reached for both cocks, still hard, still leaking. She stroked them in tandem, fast, slick. Victor turned, kissed Ethan again, desperate, filthy, tongues tangling while Remy worked them.

Victor broke the kiss long enough to rasp, “Fuck.”

He came first, ropes of cum spilling over Remy’s fist, onto her tits. She leaned forward, took him into her mouth, milking the last drops.

Then she turned to Ethan, lips swollen, cum glistening on her tongue. She kissed him deeply, sharing Victor’s release.

Ethan groaned into her mouth, tasting salt and heat and everything he’d denied himself until tonight. They collapsed against the desk, three bodies tangled, breathing ragged, skin slick.

The bar thumped on below them, oblivious. Marisol was gone. The bar was Ethan’s. And something new, something dangerous, had just begun between the three of them.

Victor’s hand found Ethan’s, fingers threading together for one brief, unguarded moment. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to.