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It’s Alice who moves Bryce’s hands to her chest and arches her back in invitation. He fumbles with her dress until her pretty tits are on display, barely covered by the sheer white lace of her bra. She’s got a hot pair on her. Really hot. Her nipples are like bullets, screaming for a mouth on them. Kudos to Bryce, he picks up on the hint. After a wide-eyed stare, he goes for it, sucking on her through the lace of her bra as she gasps and squirms. You’d think he was God’s gift by Alice’s reaction. She’s moaning so loud, she practically orgasms on the spot.

“Here,” Alice says. She tugs the cups of her bra down and frees up her tits, pushing them together so Bryce can suck both at once.

“Oh God,” she says as he devours her.

I head for the kitchen and they don’t so much as shoot me a glance as I pop the cork of the De Chante. I have to laugh to myself as they fall onto the sofa together, still fumbling and kissing and sucking. I take a swig from the bottle before I pour three glasses. I down mine and listen to another round of couch whimpers before I pour myself a refill, then weigh up my choices.

To stay, and elbow my way back into the lovebird duo, or retreat to the bedroom and leave them to it.

This shit going down between them is none of my business. I don’t do cutesy, and I don’t do romance and I definitely don’t do trauma bottled love or whatever the hell is going on with these guys. Quite why I’ve still got a hard-on in my pants is beyond me. Why the urge to jump back in is swirling in my guts like a hurricane is a mystery.

When I hear the way Alice is whimpering Bryce’s name, it’s clear I should send them straight back to his place with a see you later, but still I stand here, my glass of champagne in one hand while I palm my dick with the other. Maybe it’s the promise of BT’s tight asshole, and the temptation of Soul Girl’s sopping wet cunt that still has me invested. I dunno, but I can’t just cut and run.

Screw it. I deserve a decent round, at least.

I clear my throat to get their attention.

“Steady on with the groping, sweet things, or you’ll both be coming in your pants before the real action starts. Can’t waste that kind of potential.”

Alice’s luscious blonde hair is ruffled as she sits bolt upright on Bryce at my words. He props himself up on his elbows to take a look at me. His breaths are ragged when he clocks me walking over with the champagne glasses in my hands.

I gesture for them to shuffle up on the sofa. They’re grinning bright, struggling to regain some self-composure as I set down the glasses on the coffee table.

“Sorry,” Alice says, then pulls her bra cups up and reaches for her glass of bubbly.

“Sorry for what? Being out to take BT’s dick like a wanton little slut bunny? Nothing to apologise for. I have a sweet spot for Bryce’s cock myself, or we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

She smiles. Her blush is sweet, but slut bunny kinda suits her.

“Got a bit carried away there, didn’t we, Bryce?” she laughs and runs her fingers through her hair, but he doesn’t laugh along with her. His breaths are still heavy, his eyes wide and disoriented.

“Did you come in your pants?” I ask him, and he flashes me a scowl.

“No. Of course I didn’t!”

I raise a glass to him. “Take a chill pill. A juicy little pussy like hers is enough to warrant a premature e-jac.”

He scrambles into a sitting position, pressed up close to Alice’s side.

“I didn’t come in my bloody pants! I’ll show you, if you like.”

“Yes, I would like, please. Let’s just have a glass of champagne first, shall we?”

I smirk at him, holding out a glass, and he rolls his eyes, his cheeks brighter than Alice’s.

“Someone’s changed their tune on the hedonism,” he says. “Didn’t think it would be you telling us to calm it down.”

“Touche. Didn’t think it would be you that needed calming down, you horny sod.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Alice says.

“Oh, come on.” I laugh. “It was bloody obvious from the word go that you two were in deep. The question now is, should I stay, or should I go?”

The pent-up lovebirds look at each other then back to me, and the silence is deafening. I play it cool. I have nothing but a casual grin as I put myself in the firing line for rejection. It’s not a position I’m used to, being cast aside, but my ego can take the dent. It’s more than big enough.

“Are you being serious?” Bryce asks. “You’re going to leave us to it?”

I shrug. “I can happily leave you to it, if you want me to. True love runs deep and all that jazz. Blah, blah. No hard feelings.”