Nash’s eyes glisten, a mix of anger and sorrow. “But our lives shattered that day too, Saylor. It’s not just you. We all lost something. I lost my brother, my friend… the one who understood me the most.” The room falls into a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Then, slowly, Nash’s expression softens. “I miss you, man. Every day, it’s like there’s this hole that nothing can fill.”
“Oh, that’s why you tried to fill so many holes of other people?” Saylor’s tone is sarcastic, and I have to press my lips together to avoid laughing.
I think I will keep that one to myself.
Saylor’s anger dissipates into sadness. “I miss you, too, Nash… more than you know. It’s just hard seeing life go on without me. Seeing you holding her when I want nothing more than to do just that.”
I reach out and place my hand over Saylor’s beside me.
I want nothing more than that too.
Nash takes a deep, shuddering breath after I tell him what was said, his usual façade crumbling. “I love you, Say. We all do. And it’s not the same without you. You were always the one who held us together, and without you, everything just feelsoff.”
I can see Saylor’s love and longing, a mirror to Nash’s emotions, and I try to convey it in my voice as I relay what he says. “I love you, too, Nash. And I’m still here, in a way. I wish it could be different.”
The silence stretches, all of us in our thoughts, and I start to shiver, still clad in only a too-small towel. Nash’s hand rubs up and down my thigh, and Saylor leans in to set his chin on my shoulder.
“So, how does that even work? Can you guys like…” Nash asks, his fingertips pressing into my thigh slightly.
Saylor leans back and lets out a frustrated huff. “Of course, he would ask that.”
I know that’s something Saylor is slightly insecure about, which flares my protective instinct, so I hear myself answering boldly, “Yes, he’s more than capable of making me come if you really wanna know.”
Saylor laughs loudly, but I can see relief in his eyes when I turn to him and smile.
When I turn back to Nash, he searches my eyes. “How?”
I shrug, my bravado gone. “It tingles when he touches me.”
“Like a vibrator? Bro, that’s fucking unfair.” Nash gapes in Saylor’s direction.
“Says the one who can actually fuck her,” Saylor grumbles, looking to the floor.
“Guys,” I say, but Nash is back to his giddy self again.
“Wait, I bet I can make your clit tingle too,” Nash says mischievously, and I’m about to protest when he continues, “Brother, since you’re here… wanna watch?”
“God, yes.” Saylor’s answer comes way faster than expected. “Not the first time.” He shrugs when he sees my surprised face.
Before I can say a word, Nash shifts us, laying on the bed and pulling me with him, my body landing softly on his. Then he grips the towel and rips it off me to throw it to the floor.
“Come here.” He grabs my thighs and lifts me on top of his face.
I let out a small yelp, my heart pounding in my chest while Saylor grins at me.
“What happened to sweet Nash and his poems? I haven’t got any lately,” I accuse, trying to lean back, masking my insecurity with sassiness.
I’ve never sat on somebody’s face before.
“You want a poem?” Nash asks, pulling my hips to hover just above his face. “Sure. Roses are red, your ass is neat, and as long as I have a face, you’ll have a seat.”
Saylor snickers while I laugh, but the laugh turns into moans when Nash tugs me down and licks me. His fingertips dig into my ass, pulling my hips into a rhythm, making me grind on his face, and I have to reach out to hold myself up on the headboard.
“Fuck.” I gasp, feeling him plunge his tongue into me.
“I fucking love you riding shit,” Saylor murmurs in my ear, now on my side. “Dicks, faces… God, I would even love you riding a pillow.” He kisses down my neck. “Grab your tits for me, Boo. Play with your nipples.”
I sit upright, doing as I’m told, and Nash groans under me. He sucks my clit in his mouth, and I let out a gasp, stilling my movements. “Fuck.”
