Alex’s movements are relentless now, each thrust powerful, their free hand still teasing Morgan’s breast while the other grips her hair. The tension in the room is charged, the air heavy with the scent of sex and desire. Morgan’slimbs begin to shake, and Alex wraps an arm around her waist, holding her up as she starts to come apart beneath them. The sight of Morgan’s complete surrender, combined with Alex’s raw display of power, has Ruby practically vibrating in my lap.
I spread my legs, and intentionally in doing so, I spread Ruby’s legs along with them, exposing her lingerie to the women on the bed. She gasps at the sudden move, her body tensing against mine, but she stays still. I can feel the heat radiating from her, her arousal evident even through her dress.
Ruby grabs my hand and guides it inside her shirtdress, pressing it firmly against her breast. Her breasts are full and delicious, her heart racing beneath my palm. She arches into my touch, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. Part of me wants to give in, to take her right here—but another part holds back, reminding me to be careful. To stick to my rules.
I squeeze her breast while my other hand firmly massages the inside of her thigh, higher and higher. She’s writhing, grinding against me so restlessly I think she might climax from this alone.
On the bed, Morgan’s cries reach a fever pitch as she climbs toward her peak. The sound seems to ignite something primal in Ruby as she lifts her arms and reaches behind her to caress my hair, arching her back in the most sensual way.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice thick with need.
Morgan moans out as her orgasm crashes over her and Ruby presses herself harder against me. It’s mesmerizing to watch, like she’s in some sensuous trance, years of withholding spilling out.
Morgan and Alex collapse and lie tangled in each other’s arms. It’s my cue to withdraw my hand from Ruby’sthigh, earning a sound of protest that makes me smile against her neck. She’s wound tight from watching, from my relentless teasing, her skin flushed and warm. The truth is, I’m just as affected.
I’m about to suggest we have another drink to cool off a little when Ruby suddenly turns to look at me, then at Alex and Morgan on the bed. She brings a hand to her mouth and shakes her head. She looks like she’s just snapped out of a moment. A moment she regrets.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I have to go.”
TWENTY-THREE
RUBY
I kick off my heels and dive into the pool fully dressed. The shock of cold water hits like a slap, exactly what I need to snap out of whatever spell I was under tonight. I push deeper, letting the water muffle everything until there’s nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat. My shirtdress tangles around my thighs, dragging me, but I push deeper until my fingers brush the tiles at the bottom.
Not until my lungs are about to burst do I surface, gasping for air as I cling onto the poolside. I glance at the steps, then decide I’m not ready to get out. I turn onto my back and float, facing the sky while my sleeves billow around me like dark wings.What am I doing?The question echoes in my head, impossible to silence.
For two years, I’ve wrapped myself in armor. Work became my shield, loneliness my constant companion. But tonight, watching those women together, feeling Athena’s hands on me…I wanted things. Craved things. Physical things. The intensity of that desire terrifies me. Even now, floating in the cold water, my body is burning remembering her touch—the firm pressure of her fingers on my thigh, the heat of her breath against my neck, the way she held me still when I wanted to move against her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to the night sky. My voice breaks. “I’m so sorry, Claire.” The words dissolve into the desert breeze.
Tonight, I forgot about her. Claire wasn’t on my mind for even a second while I was sitting on Athena’s lap. For the first time since she died, I existed completely in a moment without her shadow over me. And that betrayal cuts deep—the fact that another woman could make me forget, even for a moment, the love of my life.
Guilt crashes over me. Not just because I wanted someone else—that seems almost secondary to the betrayal of wanting Athena more intensely than I ever wanted Claire, at least in the physical sense. My intimacy with Claire was sweet, tender, built on years of love and trust. What I felt tonight was something else entirely—raw, primal, overwhelming. The kind of desire that threatens to consume everything in its path. The kind of desire that makes people do stupid things.
I feel heavy with shame. In Athena’s club, watching strangers find pleasure in each other’s bodies, I forgot myself. Forgot my grief, my guilt, my walls. Worse, I didn’t want to remember. For those moments in Athena’s lap, I was someone else—someone who could feel desire without drowning in loss, someone who could watch two people fuck without blushing, someone who could spread her legs and beg to be touched.
I dive under again, hoping the cold will clear my head. It doesn’t. The shame burns hotter than the desire now. God, what was I thinking? I so desperately wanted to be part of it.
Claire and I used to swim here together on summernights. She would joke about skinny dipping but never actually did it. She would talk about making love in the pool, but we always ended up in bed instead. The memory feels distant now, like it belongs to someone else—someone who didn’t know that desire could feel like drowning.
“What would you think of me now?” I ask the stars. Claire had such faith in me, such trust, and she knew me inside out. Would she understand this version of me? Would she understand that I could want something so different from what we shared? That the tenderness we had, while beautiful, never made me burn like this?
What would she think of me sitting in dark rooms watching strangers fuck while trembling at another woman’s touch, fantasizing about being tied up, controlled, made to beg?
We never talked about things like that. Sex was sweet between us, comfortable like everything else in our relationship. We made love on Sunday mornings, slow and gentle, and it was more about connection than passion. She never pushed for more, and I never knew I wanted more. Physical intimacy was just one part of our life together, not something that consumed our thoughts.
Crossing my arms over the pool’s edge, I stare at my reflection in the glass doors. A stranger stares back at me; I barely recognize myself anymore. The controlled lawyer seems far away. In her place is this new creature, dripping and desperate, caught between desire and duty, between the safety of solitude and the dangerous promise of pleasure.
“Ruby?”
The voice startles me out of my reverie. Athena appears at the pool’s edge.
“How did you get in?” My voice sounds rough, like I’ve been crying. Maybe I have; it’s all a bit of a blur.
“I followed you. Slipped through before your gates closed.” She doesn’t apologize for the intrusion, just studies me with those dark eyes. Her gaze travels over my face, taking in what must be quite a sight—wet hair plastered to my neck, mascara streaking my cheeks. “May I join you?”
I hesitate, then nod. The surreal quality of this night deepens as I watch her kick off her shoes and remove her hat. Then she steps to the edge and dives in fully clothed.
