I jumped back into the water, pulled off my underwear, waved it in front of them like a flag, and flung it onto Orlando’s thighs. The damp fabric landed with a soft slap. He stared at it, then at me, one eyebrow climbing. “Bold,” he said, voice rough. Macmillan was already standing, water streaming down the hard lines of his chest and stomach. He stepped out of his own briefs, kicked them aside, and walked into the shallows until the lake lapped at his hips. His cock hung heavy, half-hard already, the head darkening as the cool water kissed it. Jordan followed a second later, stripping without ceremony, his own length bouncing against his thigh as he waded in. I stayed where I was, treading water, watching all three of them come for me. The quarry walls rose steep and silent around us; no one else existed. Orlando reached me first. He didn’t kiss me this time. He simply closed the last foot of water, slid one hand around the back of my neck, and guided my mouth down. The head of
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