“Are you done?” I ask.
“Yes. Goddamn, your ass is gorgeous.” He pats the base of the plug.
I groan in mortification.
Damiano licks me a few more times. I rock my hips forward, encouraging him, but he grabs my thighs and pulls away.
“Hey,” I protest.
He leans back on his heels and looks up at me while pulling my panties back up my legs. “We don’t have much time to get to the theater.”
I shake my head. “Fuck the theater, let’s stay here.”
“Oh, bella. Trust me. Waiting will make everything better.”
I highly doubt it, but neither of them looks like he’s ready to budge. Crap. “There’s nothing I can do to talk you out of the movie, is there?”
Damiano grins in response.
As we walk to the car, I take short, halting steps. The plug doesn’t hurt, but it feels so freaking strange every time I move. The guys seem to guess this, and they keep pace with me, walking slowly, smug smirks on their faces the whole time.
When we reach the car, Seth gets into the back seat.
I point to the front passenger seat. “Don’t you want shotgun?”
“Fuck, no. Leave you in the back alone, with no one to touch you while you’re wearing that sexy plug?”
Of course he had to bring it up again. Like I’m not already uncomfortable with that thing lodged in there.
He and Damiano smile at the expression on my face.
“Into the back with Seth you go,” Damiano says, swiftly bending to kiss my cheek. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight.”
As carefully as possible, I climb into the back. Every movement causes that infernal plug to touch me in new, sensitive places. I can’t help my whimper as I settle into the seat next to Seth.
“Are you uncomfortable, little girl?” His false concern is infuriating.
I lift my chin. “I feel outstanding, thank you so much for asking.”
He laughs, as does Damiano. Dickheads. They’re both dickheads.
5
MADISON
Gorge has been out for a few weeks, and it’s a Sunday night, so the theater is rather empty. There’s only one other group here—three people, just like us. Damiano and Seth lead me to the back of the theater—not the very back, but far enough from the other group that it feels like we’re alone.
“Do you think this is all the people we’ll have in here?” I’m a little nervous at the thought of the men touching me in a public place. A movie theater isn’t like Low Vice, where everyone around consents to see or be seen.
“The movie’s just about to start, so I think it’s just us.” Seth squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to worry, Madison—we’re taking care of everything.”
We settle into our seats—Seth on my right, Damiano on my left. I ease down carefully, trying not to jostle the plug too much.
As if on cue, the lights dim and the trailers start running.
Damiano grabs one of my hands. Seth rests his palm casually over my bare knee. This feels as innocent as any of my high school dates—if any of those dates had been with two guys instead of one. The guys’ casual touches would seem, to an outsider, almost chaste.
My nerves are clanging, though. This is more than a date. I have something in my ass, for starters. Any minute, these guys are going to start touching me in “obscene places.” From the way the tension stretches between the three of us, I think they’re going to start as soon as the trailers are finished.
