Page 255 of What We Become

We drink. Watch the yard. Two men who’ve stood shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, watching worse things than a woman dance badly with her best friend.

I look at the yard. At the lights and the music and the people. At Milo trying to teach Knox to two-step, which is going exactly as well as you’d expect. At Gloria at her table with an expression that, in certain light, from certain angles, if you squinted, might almost be called happy. At Mars, still asleep, her little tutu askew.

Then I look at our wife.

And make my way across the yard of people who love her to grope her ass once more.

SIXTY

MILO

The door to my room clicks shut behind us. Sage is still laughing at something Eli said on the stairs, gathering her skirt with one hand while she tries to remove an earring with the other. Micah takes it from her before it can disappear into the carpet.

Knox is fighting a cuff link.

“Give me your arm,” Eli says.

“I can do it.”

“Before breakfast would be nice.”

I catch Sage by the waist. “Ignore them. We offer a very professional service here.”

“Do you?”

“No. But we have excellent reviews—all from you and each other.”

She kisses me before I can get really into the bit. There’s champagne on her lips. Behind us, Eli wins the argument with Knox’s cuff link, and Holden drapes his jacket over a chair.

Micah finds the fastening at the back of Sage’s dress.

“Ready?”

She looks around at all of us and nods.

“More than ready.”

The dress pools at her feet, leaving her in lace panties, stockings and the garter belt that’s been taunting me all damn day. Her choker stays on.

Holden’s had the key to that thing around his wrist. Every night she holds her hand out and he unlocks it. Every morning she gives him her throat and he locks it again. I think about that more than is probably healthy, usually at traffic lights.

“Fuck me,” I mutter, because priorities, and she arches a brow like she’s daring me to elaborate. Instead, I scoop her up and toss her onto the bed. She bounces once, laughing, and Knox moves closer. He kneels between her thighs and pops the seam of her panties like butter. She gasps and he spreads her wide with those huge hands, his mouth descending like he’s starving. I move closer, but Eli catches my arm.

“Winner’s privilege.”

“I know. I invented the stupid rules.”

I strip fast, suit hitting the floor in a heap, and stay beside the bed.

Sage’s eyes find mine in the mirror. Knox’s tongue works her over, and she moans as he pushes two fingers inside her, curling them until she’s bucking against him, coming hard with a cry that echoes off the walls.

The sound she makes undoes me.

I reach for her hand. She catches mine and holds on.

“Jesus,” I murmur against her temple. “Look at you.”

She turns her head enough to catch my mouth with hers, smiling into it, and I can feel the laugh trying to get out of her even now. “You’re already talking too much.”