Behind us, the bed dips. Conrad hasn’t said a word; he’s just moved, quiet as a shadow. The mattress shifts when his weightsettles at her back, one knee sinking in on the other side of her hip. His heat hits the length of her spine a heartbeat later.
Phoenix trembles once between us, a full-body shiver. My hand finds her thigh, squeezes. Conrad’s hand lands over her ribs, big and steady.
“You say stop,” he murmurs against her hair, “and this ends. I walk out. He walks out.”
“Not walking out,” I mutter into her mouth, but I don’t argue the rest.
“I know,” she says, voice gone a little breathless. “I’ll say it if I need it. Now stop asking.”
I tear my mouth from hers long enough to look at Conrad over her shoulder. His eyes are dark, pupils huge, jaw clenched so hard I can see the muscle jump.
Phoenix moans, a short, shocked sound that melts into a sigh when my thumb strokes higher on her inner thigh. Conrad’s hand slides under the open hoodie, splaying over her bare stomach like he’s claiming a fault line.
“Lie back,” I tell her softly. “Let us do the work.”
She goes, trusting, easing onto her spine along the mattress. Her hair fans out on the pillow, hoodie falling open the rest of the way. Conrad shifts with her, stretching out along her side, propped on one elbow so he can keep his body flush to hers. I take the other side, mirroring him, our shoulders almost touching over her.
Her chest rises and falls fast. She blinks up at us like she can’t decide where to look first.
“Eyes on him,” I say, nodding toward Conrad, because I remember the first time they were together and how he looked then—starving and guilty because he craved her. “He needs it.”
Conrad makes a low, helpless sound, but he doesn’t argue.
Phoenix turns her head, finds him. He cups her jaw with ridiculous care and kisses her like he’s been rehearsing it in his head for years. I watch his control fray in real time, the way his hand tightens on her, the way his breath goes uneven.
I lean down and drag my mouth along her throat while they kiss, tasting the little sounds she makes into his mouth. My hand slips under the hem of her shorts and my fingers slide against her already wet pussy, the heat of her skin nearly knocking me out. Her hips jerk against my palm, tiny and desperate for more.
“Fuck,” I whisper against her pulse. “Look at you.”
“She’s perfect,” Conrad says, like it’s a fact he’s been waiting to put in a report.
Phoenix turns back to me, eyes glassy. “Maverick,” she says, and my name in that tone rewires my soul.
“Yeah, baby. I got you.” My fingers find the patterns I already know she likes against her clit, coaxing, circling, pressing, until her legs are trembling and her hand is clawing at my forearm.
Heat builds between the three of us like a storm trapped in a glass.
Clothes finish disappearing in a series of thoughtless movements—her shorts, my shirt, Conrad’s slacks, everything soft and cotton and in the way. Skin slides against skin, hot and slick. The lamp throws everything in gold and shadow.
Somehow we end up with Phoenix on her side, back to Conrad’s chest, my body curled in front of hers. We’re an unbroken line of heat, her leg hitched over my hip, Conrad’s arm banded just under her breasts, his nose buried in her hair.
“Color?” Conrad asks one more time, voice shredded.
“Green,” she says, and there’s no shakiness now. Only hunger. “Please.”
We move.
In one moment, I’m lining my cock up against her slick opening, and I can feel Conrad moving behind her.
She’s pressing against both of us, but when I look over her head at Conrad, he shakes his head slightly.
All right then, looks like my firebird isn’t about to take both of our cocks at once. We can take turns in her pussy.
That’s fine. I can share her. Especially with Conrad.
We don’t choreograph it. We don’t need to. Every shift of her hips, every catch in her breath, we adjust—Conrad slowing his movement when I thrust harder, me easing when he changes angle while holding her, both of us listening to the sounds she makes.
There’s a point where she’s clinging to my shoulders, fingers dug in, eyes locked on mine while Conrad’s breath rakes hot over the back of her neck. I can hear him behind her, feel it in the way his hand shakes on her belly.
