"Don't!" I warn, cutting past her, eyes sweeping the room.
Demi lounges on the far end of the sectional, legs tucked under her, gold sequins catching every flicker of the lamps. The red recording light on her phone stays steady, aimed straight at me like a weapon.
Blue sits on the floor in front of the coffee table, knees drawn up, leather skirt still bunched high enough to show the pink scab on her inner thigh. Her sheer top hangs loose on one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone where my teeth left their mark days ago. She looks up at me slowly, lips parting on a quiet exhale, eyes glittering with something between triumph and hunger. "Dr. Mercer," she says, voice soft, almost sweet. "Did you want to join us?"
I stop in the center of the rug. My chest rises and falls too fast. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Demi adjusts her grip on the phone, zooming in. "Keep talking. This is cinematic."
Cloud moves to Blue's side, hand dropping protectively to her shoulder. "You need to leave if you can't play nice. We have safe words."
"What are you talking about?" I snarl and scowl at Cloud, then look back at Blue.
Her gaze stays locked on mine. She uncurls slowly, rising to her feet, her skirt riding higher with the motion. She steps toward me until the heat of her body brushes mine.
Vanilla and club smoke cling to her skin, mixing with the floral scent of her perfume. She murmurs, "You watched everything, didn't you? The club? The guys? My tongue on Cloud's hand. You saw it all, and you want to play, right?"
My hands flex at my sides. I want to grab her, haul her against me, bury my face in her neck until the scent of other people disappears. Instead, I force the words out through clenched teeth. "You posted it for me. Every lick, every touch, every fucking smile. You wanted me to see it. But no, I'm not here to play and indulge whatever fantasy you've convinced yourself is going on here."
She tilts her head. "You're hard right now, aren't you? Thinking about my tongue on her skin. Thinking about hands that aren't yours."
Heat surges through me again, and my cock throbs so hard, the seam of my slacks digs in. I shift my weight, trying to ease the pressure, but it only makes it worse.
Demi whistles low behind the phone. "Damn. He's not denying it."
My head snaps toward her. "Can you keep out of our business, please?"
She smirks and keeps the camera pointed at me.
"Turn that damn thing off," I order.
"Pretty sure Blue's going to want to get off on this later," she chirps.
"Now," I demand.
"That's hot. Blue, tell him Demi's right," Cloud instructs, her fingers tightening on Blue's shoulder.
Blue ignores her. She reaches out, fingertips grazing the front of my shirt, tracing downward until they brush the buckle of my belt. "You stormed in here because you couldn't stand seeing me with others, but you walked away from me, Red."
I catch her wrist, my thumb pressing over her pulse that's racing. "This is about you hurting yourself again and then turning it into a show for me. Those scabs on your thighs aren't a joke or to be used as a weapon."
"He has a point," Demi mutters.
"You think?" I seethe at her.
She winces.
I turn back to Blue.
Her eyes flicker. For the first time since I walked in, something real cracks through the performance, but then it's gone in a blink. She leans closer, breasts brushing my chest. "Maybe I needed someone who wouldn't run."
Cloud steps next to us. "Red, you can join in, or you have to go."
Demi circles us, ordering, "Let them finish. This is better than anything on my feed tonight."
"You better not be posting this!" I warn.
Blue presses against me again. Her free hand slides to my hip, her fingers dig in, and her eyes blaze wild. "Stay, Red. Watch Cloud and me. Or join in. You know you want to see and feel it."
