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And hope like hell Callie forgives me.

Then he gifts me what I crave. He moans into my mouth, low and sexy, and I catch it. The sound. Swallow it down. It leaves me nothing but thirsty for the next one. My hands climb to his jaw, running over the scratchy stubble. I push up onto my toes, pressing as close as I can get, balance be damned. Feeling him is the only thing my body will hold a thought about.

Cool air spills across my back. The zipper finishes its slow descent and my dress drops, sliding off my hips to pool on the dirty tile.

I don’t care. The two-thousand-dollar dress I saved a year for, on the floor of a locker room, and I can’t be bothered.

Leif pulls back just enough to suck on my bottom lip, he releases it wet and stinging with a soft pop. His mouth gleams. I lean in to steal another kiss, and he’s already gone, just out of reach, those blue eyes swirling, little crystals turning in the iris.

The words spill before I can stop them. “Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to fuck me?”

It doesn’t feel like me saying it. Not the old me. But I mean every word.

A finger traces down my spine. My back arches, my vision goes soft at the edges, and a moan slips out before I can decide whether to allow it.

“Sensitive here.” Enzo’s voice rumbles from behind me. He smells like black pepper and smoke from a campfire in the summer.

Two men. Two flavors. Dessert in front of me, smoke at my back, and my mouth waters for both at once.

“Shh.” Leif eases me backward into Enzo, and Enzo catches me, both arms folding around me, holding me like I’m something he’s been told not to drop.

At our feet Davi gathers my ruined dress and lays it over a bench, careful with it in a way none of us have been. Then he strips his shirt off in one pull.

Oh. That was hiding under there. Golden skin, cut lean, a dusting of dark hair down the center of him. In a line I want to follow with my tongue.

He looks at me like he means to eat me slowly. Then his eyes cut to Leif before he crosses the room to him.

The shock of it rolls through me as Davi leans in and kisses my boss.

It’s strange to watch. Strange, and obscene, and I feel like I’ve walked in on something I wasn’t meant to see, like I’m the new hire at a party where everyone else has years of history.

Enzo erases the thought. He sweeps my hair off one shoulder and sets his mouth to my neck, he presses soft kisses up the line of my neck, and my head drops onto his shoulder so I can keep watching.

Davi and Leif kiss like they’re starving for each other.

Davi runs his fingers through Leif’s hair, mussing up the perfect strands. Leif’s own run over Davi everywhere at once. As though he can’t not touch him. Their tongues meet in the open air between mouths and Leif’s hand finds Davi through his jeans, the ones he never buttoned, and grips.

The sounds they make. Gods, the sounds.

Each one lands low inside of me, a pulse straight to my clit. I could get off on this alone. The watching.

“This turns you on,” Enzo says against my throat.

“Yeah.” I half choke on the word. I’m fairly sure I’m drooling.

“How wet are you, Hadley?” His hands skim up over my ribs, sliding my bra loose and dropping it somewhere. His knuckles graze the undersides of my breasts, and they go heavy at the touch, nipples drawing tight, demanding more without a word from me.

Soaked. I don’t say it. My heart rate answers for me. And the wicked need inside me wonders if he’s going to find out just how wet I actually am.

His palms glide down, slow, splayed wide, then his fingers toy at the crease of my hip where my panties used to be.

“How wet?” he asks again, just as Leif drops to one knee in front of Davi and drags his tongue up the length of him.

Oh, oh that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“Why don’t you find out?” I push my ass back into him, daring him to do something about the ache, the one nothing fixes but a cock buried to the root.

Enzo huffs a laugh against my ear. One forearm bands across my hips and holds me to him, and the other hand slides down through the slick mess he made of me, fingers parting me, two of them pressing in deep and slow while the heel of his palm rides my clit.