Page 57 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

Marla stirs, her eyes opening slowly. She sees me standing in the doorway and goes completely still.

"Russ," she whispers.

Nick's eyes open immediately, his body tensing before he recognizes me. The three of us stay frozen for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Then I smile, the same easy smile I used the first night I met her. "Room for one more?"

Marla's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't say no. Nick shifts, making space, and I kick off my shoes before climbing into bed beside them.

"You're wearing too many clothes," I tell Marla, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt.

She laughs, the sound breaking the tension. "It's barely noon."

"So?" I slide my hand under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin. "You have somewhere to be?"

"I'm being held prisoner, remember?"

"Protected," Nick corrects, his voice rough with sleep.

"Same thing," she mutters, but she's smiling now.

I pull her closer, fitting her body against mine while Nick stays pressed against her back. She's warm and soft, and the scent of her shampoo fills my lungs.

"This is insane," she whispers.

"Probably," I agree, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Nick's hand slides over her hip, his fingers brushing against mine. The three of us are tangled together beneath the blankets, and it should feel awkward or wrong, but instead it somehow feels right.

Marla turns her head, her lips finding mine. The kiss is slow and deep, and I can feel her body responding, pressing back against Nick while she opens for me.

My mother's words echo again. "Sometimes you have to take a risk."

I deepen the kiss, my hand sliding lower, and Marla gasps against my mouth. Nick's hand joins mine, both of us touching her, and the laughter from moments ago transforms into moans of pleasure and desire.

"Were you three seriously about to start without me?" Alex asks from the doorway.

22

MARLA

A laugh bubbles up from my chest before I can stop it. The absurdity of the situation hits me all at once: three people in my bed on an early Monday afternoon, sunlight streaming through the windows, and Alex standing in the doorway looking amused rather than jealous or angry.

"You're late," I say, grinning despite the heat flooding my cheeks.

"Traffic," he replies smoothly, already pulling his shirt over his head.

The atmosphere shifts the moment he crosses the threshold. The temperature in the room seems to rise as he approaches. Russ's hand stills on my hip, his fingers pressing slightly into my skin. Nick's breathing changes against my neck, becoming more deliberate, more aware. Suddenly the playful tension from seconds ago transforms into a heavier, more excited interaction.

Alex moves to the bed with that controlled grace I've come to recognize, his brown eyes taking in the three of us tangled together. The mattress dips under his weight as he climbs on, and I feel the shift ripple through all of us.

Nick shifts without a word, making space, his muscular arm sliding around my waist to pull me closer. Suddenly I'm surrounded. Russ on my left, his chest warm against my back. Nick on my right, his hand splayed possessively across my stomach. Alex in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his lean, muscular frame. The bed feels smaller with all four of us, the air warmer, charged with anticipation that makes my skin tingle and heat pool between my thighs.

"This is crazy," I whisper.

"You said that already," Russ murmurs against my shoulder, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. His touch is lighter than the others, teasing rather than demanding, and it makes me shiver. His blond hair tickles my skin as he moves lower.

Alex's hand cups my face, tilting my chin up so I'm looking directly at him. His palm is warm and slightly rough, and the scar along his jawline catches the morning light. "Do you want us to stop?"