There had been daily texts, phone calls, FaceTimes. Nothing more. We didn’t cross those lines again.
Hana met us downstairs, her cheeks pink with excitement as she pulled me into a hug that lasted just a little too long. I didn’t mind, nor did I let go first.
Jack followed behind her, grinning like he knew something the rest of us didn’t. He shook Elliott’s hand, then pulled him in for a brief hug. Something passed between them, something unspoken. Or maybe spoken quietly, when we weren’t around. Hana and I never asked.
They led us upstairs.
Their apartment was warm and bright, cozy in a way that felt lived in. Their artwork covered the walls, pieces from Hana, from Jack, from Jenny. Jenny was at Emily’s apartment;we’ll catch up with them later, Hana had said.
We had been here countless times before, but now…it felt different, somehow.
I sank onto the couch beside Hana, my bare thigh exposed from my short dress, brushing hers. It lingered, and she looked at me like she remembered everything, like she hadn’t stopped thinking about it either.
In the kitchen, Elliott and Jack cracked open a bottle of whiskey. We stayed in the living room, curled into the couch, talking about nothing in particular.
The guys started laughing louder than I expected them to.
Hana and I turned to each other with confused grins. “Since when did they become best friends?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I have no idea. But I kinda like it,” I said, brushing Hana’s shoulder innocently with mine.
But she turned to me and beamed, and I think we both knew that touch meant more than it seemed.
Jack wandered into the living room first, whiskey in hand. Elliott followed, sitting beside him in a matching arm chair, their knees nearly touching, their posture open and unbothered.
There was a beat of silence. Then Jack spoke, his usual smirk crossing his lips. “We talked about it,” he said. “Elliott and I. About boundaries, about what we’re okay with.”
My heart skipped.
“What?” Hana and I managed to say at the same time.
Elliott and Jack glanced at each other with grins.
“We’re not interested in anything more than…watching,” Elliott added. “Not this time.”
Not this time.
I turned to Hana, and she was already looking at me; there was a question in her eyes, and I answered it by kissing her.
Soft, slow, and familiar. But new all over again.
We shifted as we leaned into each other, our mouths slowly moving together, our hands tentative at first but growing wild each passing second. Her fingers slid into my hair and mine traced down to her breasts. Every inch of her against me ignited something.
The men said nothing, but I didn’t need to look to know they were watching.
Hana’s hand slipped under my dress, finding my underwear already soaked for her. She pulled the fabric aside and slid two fingers in.
“I missed this,” she whispered against my mouth, kissing me again as my hips rose to meet her touch.
I moaned softly, pulling her closer.
She ground against my thigh, her body melting into mine, and then a voice broke through.
“Jacqueline,” Elliott called out, and Hana and I pulled away from each other to glance over at them.
My mouth dropped at the sight. He and Jack already had their cocks out, peeking out from their boxer briefs, but Jack’s hand was slowly gliding up and down Elliott’s shaft.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, watching my husband getting pleasured by another gorgeous man.
