Page 43 of Bend

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I say.

That gets me a look from Thorne. He's flushed, and overwhelmed but fuck me, he’s never looked hotter.

“You two are being deeply annoying.”

Echo grins and kisses him again, slower this time, drawing him back under before he can joke his way out of it. When she pulls away, her forehead brushes his for a second.

“You don’t have to fight it,” she says quietly. “You can let it feel good.”

Something in him shifts at that.

I see it in the way his shoulders loosen just a fraction. In the way his eyes close for half a beat, like he’s taking that in somewhere deeper than he wants to admit. Echo’s hand finds mine, and then his, and she starts walking us backward toward the bed.

The backs of Thorne’s knees hit the mattress first, and he drops down onto it.

Echo stays right in front of him.

For a second she just looks at him, that same wicked little calm all over her face, then reaches for the hem of her top and peels it off slowly.

She strips down, layer by layer until she’s standing there in nothing but her bra and panties, her long dark hair falling down her back in thick waves, catching the cheap gold light from the lamp.

And fuck.

The sight of her is enough on its own, but it’s not just her getting to me.

It’s him looking at her.

Thorne tips his head back to watch her, eyes dragged up her body like he can’t help himself now. His hands land on her hips first, big and careful and already a little greedy, sliding over her skin like he wants to touch everything at once.

The sight of it does something strange to my chest.

Because watching him like this—tense, mouth a little parted, and trying to act like he’s got a handle on himself when he clearly doesn’t, sends this hard little pulse straight through me.

He looks wrecked already, and we’ve barely even fucking started.

Her fingers slip into his buzzed hair, and he leans into it just enough that I catch the shift in him. His thumbs drag over her waist, his gaze still fixed on her.

“Still in your head?” she asks softly.

Thorne lets out a low breath, one corner of his mouth twitching like he knows he’s been caught. “Bit hard not to be, lookin’ at you like this.”

Echo glances at me over her shoulder. “You just gonna stand there looking wrecked, or are you gonna come join us?”

I laugh under my breath and step in close.

Thorne pushes himself farther up the bed, his broad shoulders against the headboard, and his eyes flicking between us like he still can’t believe this is happening but in this moment, he wants it bad enough not to care. Echo climbs onto the mattress first, settling herself half over one of his thighs, and the second she does, his hands find her again.

Not a fucking drop of hesitation now.

Still a little overwhelmed, yeah, but there’s more confidence in him than there was a minute ago. More hunger. He looks up at her like he’s trying to take in all of her at once, and she rewards him for it with one of those slow, wicked smiles that’s gotten us this far already.

I peel my shirt off as I move closer, then deal with the rest until I’m down to my boxers, letting the heat in the room settle over my skin. Echo’s attention flicks my way for half a second, approving and pleased, before she turns back to Thorne and starts working at his clothes.

She takes her time with him. Stripping him down piece by piece while she keeps kissing him between each movement, like she’s trying to convince his body and his head at the same time that he can stop bracing now. Thorne helps where he can, but he’s distracted enough that she keeps having to laugh at him and bat his hands out of the way.

“Patience,” she murmurs against his mouth.

He huffs a rough laugh. “Bit rich coming from you.”