Mag-log inKAGE.Three weeks later and I’m starting to have a problem.The hip is better. Significantly better. Theve’s approach is working in ways David’s never did. My range of motion is up to ninety-five percent and the pain has decreased to almost nothing.That’s not the problem.The problem is that I’ve started looking forward to the sessions for reasons that have nothing to do with physical therapy.It’s six AM on a Thursday and I’m lying face-up on the treatment table while Theve works my hip. His hands are on my inner thigh, fingers pressing deep into the adductor, and I’m trying very hard not to think about how close those hands are to my dick.“You’re tense again,” he says without looking up.“Am I?”“Your breathing changed. What’s going on?”Nothing. Everything. The fact that I’ve spent three weeks having your hands on me every morning and I can’t stop thinking about it. The fact that I’m noticing things about you I have no business noticing. The fact that I’m pretty sure I’m attrac
KAGEThe thing about tearing your adductor eight months ago is that everyone thinks you should be fine by now.Fans think eight months is plenty of time. Sports analysts think you’re milking it. Your new team thinks they paid two hundred million dollars for a running back who can actually run.My hip thinks they’re all full of shit.It feels like someone jammed broken glass into the muscle every time I cut left or pivot hard. Which is a problem when your entire value as a professional athlete depends on being able to cut left and pivot hard without screaming.David in Dallas understood this. David had hands like a construction worker and the personality of a brick wall. No small talk about weather. No asking how my weekend was. Just strong hands working scar tissue for an hour while I focused on not passing out from the pain.Then Chicago happened and David stayed in Texas and now I’m supposed to start over with someone new who probably wants to be my friend.I’m sitting in this pr
NASH.Cole texts me at eleven on a Thursday night.Cole: You up?Me: Yeah. Why?Cole: Can I come over?Me: To my place?Cole: Yeah. Unless that’s weird.It is weird. We’ve never done anything just the two of us outside the group. It’s always been all four of us together at the penthouse or Xavier’s place. Never alone. Never at my actual apartment where my parents could theoretically walk in even though they’re usually working late.Me: Parents are at some charity thing until midnight. Come over.Cole: Be there in 20.I spend those twenty minutes trying not to overthink what this means. Maybe he just wants to talk. Maybe something happened and he needs someone to vent to. Maybe this has nothing to do with the sex at all.Then he shows up at my door and I know immediately that it has everything to do with the sex.He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie and his hair is messy like he’s been running his hands through it. When I let him in he doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with an expressi
ARRETT. We make it to Xavier’s bedroom and the second the door closes Cole is on me.He kisses me hard, aggressive, still riding the high from earlier. I kiss him back just as roughly and we’re stumbling toward the bed.Xavier and Nash are already pulling off their shirts. When Xavier’s hands go to Nash’s belt Nash doesn’t wait, just shoves his jeans down and pulls Xavier toward the bed with us.All four of us end up tangled together, hands everywhere, mouths finding skin, everything heated and desperate.Someone’s hand wraps around my cock through my jeans and I groan. I don’t even know whose hand it is and I don’t care.“Get these off,” Xavier says, pulling at my jeans.I work my belt while kissing Cole and someone else is pulling off my shoes so they can get my jeans all the way off. Within seconds I’m naked and so is everyone else.The energy is frantic. We’re all still buzzing from what we did tonight and it’s translating into something raw and intense.Nash is on his back and X
ARRETTThe last guest stumbles out of the mansion around two AM and the second the door closes behind them, the energy shifts.We threw the party because Xavier’s parents are in Europe for three weeks and his family’s estate is massive enough to host half the senior class without anyone noticing the damage. Open bar, DJ, pool lit up with colored lights. The usual excess.But the party was just cover for what we actually did tonight.An hour before people started arriving, the four of us went hunting.There’s this group of guys from Eastbridge who’ve been causing problems at parties all semester. Rohypnol in drinks, girls waking up not remembering how they got somewhere. Everyone knows they’re doing it but nobody’s stopped them because their families have money and lawyers.We decided to stop them ourselves.We caught two of them in the parking lot of some club downtown. Masks on, no names, just the four of us surrounding them in the dark. We didn’t hurt them. Didn’t have to. Just made
ARRETT.Xavier continues exploring while Cole and Nash keep kissing and stroking each other. When Xavier’s fingers slide between Cole’s cheeks Cole breaks the kiss with a gasp.“Fuck. That feels weird.”“Good weird or bad weird?” Xavier asks.“I don’t know yet.”“Want me to stop?”“No. Keep going.”I’m watching all of this while still touching myself and I’m so close to the edge I can barely think straight.Xavier reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lube that I didn’t even know was there. “Anyone opposed to me using this?”We all shake our heads.He slicks up his fingers and goes back to touching Cole who’s now gripping Nash’s shoulders and breathing hard.“You’re so tight,” Xavier says. “Have you ever had anything inside you before?”“No.”“Want to try?”Cole is quiet for a second. “Yeah. Just go slow.”Xavier works one finger inside carefully and Cole’s entire body goes rigid.“Breathe,” Xavier instructs. “It’ll feel better if you relax.”Cole takes a shaky bre
TAIRA.In our world, men are commodities.Not slaves—let me be clear about that. The Harvest Laws are strict about consent and compensation. But in a woman ruled society where male ejaculate is the most valuable substance on the planet, men with premium genetics and high production capability are
TAIRA.By the end of the first week, Subject 237—Kade after seeing his real name in his file—was producing at 150% of his previous average.I’d figured out his body like it was a puzzle I was born to solve.He needed rough handling, yes, but he also needed praise.Needed to be told he was good, per
ABIGAIL.Three days passed before Oberin appeared again.I’d started to think maybe it had all been a stress-induced hallucination.Maybe I’d had a psychotic break and imagined the whole thing. But the mark on my arm remained, a dark reminder of the contract. And Tate’s life had started falling ap
NALINA.I woke to the feeling of something cool and slick sliding across my ankle.My eyes snapped open. Pale dawn light filtered through cracks in the cave ceiling, mixing with the luminous glow. Thalassor was there, half-emerged from the water, one tentacle wrapped loosely around my leg.“Good m







