13. Holden
13
HOLDEN
H endrix paced in the middle of the room, his fingers tangling in his dark curls, pulling them loose and disheveled. His steps were erratic, his breathing uneven. “I mean—what the fuck? Of all the things I thought we might see tonight…that? Not even close.”
I groaned, tipping my head back against the door, my palms pressing into my eyes like I could erase the images burned into my brain. “I’m pretty sure my eyes are permanently scarred. Like, what the hell were they even…?” I trailed off, shuddering. Saying it out loud would just make it worse.
“Your mom and my dad,” Hendrix said, his voice rising with disbelief as he flung his hands out. “In a sex club. Together. Blowing some random dude! Who even are they?”
“They’re insane, apparently,” I muttered, my chest tightening with a strange mix of disgust at having seen it and secondhand embarrassment. “And Blanton—with another guy. I mean, is he into dudes? Or is this just…I don’t know, a thing they do?”
Hendrix stopped pacing and stared at me, his brows furrowed like he was trying to work through a math problem that refused to add up. “I don’t know. I mean, we’ve seen my dad flirt. He’s smooth as hell, but it’s always been with women, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice sharp as I sat forward. “Always women. That’s why this doesn’t make sense. Mom’s there. They’re married. But now…what does this even mean?”
“It means they’ve got a hell of a lot going on we didn’t know about,” Hendrix said, his tone grim. He sank into a chair across from me, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “And maybe…I don’t know, maybe it’s not our business to understand it.”
I huffed, shaking my head. “Yeah, except now I can’t unsee it. They were so…enthusiastic. And fucking hell! My mom! She’s always so classy and put-together, and now all I can picture is her on her knees like—” I broke off, groaning as I buried my face in my hands.
“Classy people can be freaks too, apparently,” Hendrix said dryly, though the edge of unease was still in his voice. He was quiet for a moment before adding, “You think my dad’s always been into guys, or is this new?”
I looked up at him, frowning. “How the hell am I supposed to know? He’s never exactly been an open book. I mean, he’s always been confident. Smooth. Maybe too smooth. But this?” I shrugged my shoulders.
Hendrix rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breath. “And Fanny…she looked into it. Comfortable, even. Like they’ve done this a hundred times before.”
“Which means this isn’t new,” I said, the realization making my stomach churn. “They’ve probably been doing this for years.”
“Years,” Hendrix repeated, his voice flat as he stared at the floor. Then, after a beat, he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “What the hell, man? I mean, good for them, I guess? They’re clearly on the same page. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “You’re accepting this way too fast.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he shot back, throwing up his hands. “It’s not like we can march in there and demand answers. ‘Hey Dad, Fanny, care to explain why you’re double-teaming some guy at a sex club?’” He snorted. “Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”
The room fell into silence for a moment, the weight of it pressing down on us. Hendrix finally broke it with a sigh, his voice softer now. “At least they were together. That’s the part I keep coming back to. They’re not sneaking around. They’re just…doing their thing. Together.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s weird as hell, but it’s not like Blanton’s sneaking around. They’re…exploring. As a couple.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I said, a sharp laugh escaping before I could stop it. “Guess we can’t exactly call them conventional.”
“Conventional’s overrated,” Hendrix said, his voice quieter now. “Hell, look at this place. Conventional’s not even in the same zip code. And we might not be so conventional either,” he said pointedly.
I let out a small laugh, the last of my discomfort starting to ebb. “Fair point. But I’m still gonna need a drink—or five—to process this.”
I glanced around the room, really taking it in for the first time. The lighting was low and soft, casting shadows over plush furniture and mirrored walls. A chaise lounge curved like something out of an old Hollywood film, its deep emerald upholstery rich and inviting. There was a faint scent of leather and something floral, like roses, lingering in the air. The entire space felt alive with possibility, every detail designed to disarm and seduce. The bed in the center was massive, a luxurious canvas of black satin and crushed velvet. Every inch of it promised decadence.
Hendrix moved toward a small bar cart tucked in the corner, his steps deliberate, as if pouring a drink would anchor him. He lifted the glass decanter with ease, the amber liquid catching the light as he poured into two crystal highball glasses.
He crossed the room and leaned back on the edge of the bed, the mattress slightly shifting under his weight. He held up one of the glasses, motioning for me to join him. “Come on,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You need this as much as I do.”
My pulse raced as I watched him sitting there, his broad shoulders relaxed against the plush bedding, the faint clink of the glass as he swirled the whiskey. It felt surreal—us here, in a sex club, where no one would give a fuck about what we chose to do. Even in the privacy of our room, the knowledge of what was happening all around us made the air feel charged, as though anything was possible.
I pushed off the door, crossing the room slowly. The hum of adrenaline thrummed in my veins, mixing with something heavier, something unspoken that lingered between us. Hendrix tilted his head slightly, watching me as I took the glass from his hand. He was quiet, his gaze distant, like he was trying to think himself out of the moment.
I wasn’t sure what pushed me—maybe the low burn of whiskey on my tongue or the way his shoulders seemed so impossibly broad and tense—but I spoke before I could stop myself.
“Hendrix,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His head lifted, his eyes locking onto mine, and I felt my pulse skip.
“I…I can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier,” I admitted, my voice raw and unsteady. “About lines. About us.”
His brow furrowed, his lips parting like he wasn’t sure how he should answer. “Yeah?”
My thighs brushed his knees, standing slightly between his legs as he perched on the edge of the bed. His gaze dropped for just a second before snapping back to mine.
“What if I don’t care about lines?” I asked.
The words hung there, heavy and unspoken for too long. His hand flexed against his thighs, his knuckles going white for a moment before he finally spoke.
“You sure about that?” His voice was low, careful, but there was a fire behind it, a heat that made my chest tighten.
Instead of answering, I leaned down, placing my hands on either side of him, caging him in. “I don’t want to think. I just…I need you to tell me what to do.”
Hendrix blinked, his breath catching audibly. “Holden?—”
“I mean it,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want…I want to try. With you.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, the tension between us coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might snap. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand brushing the side of my neck, his fingers warm and steady.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow line along my jaw.
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. “Is that bad?”
“No,” he said softly, his voice almost a growl. “It’s shocking. I’ve never seen you just loosen up and be free.”
I let out a shaky breath, my lips parting just slightly as his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between us until his breath was hot against my skin. “You’re gonna have to meet me halfway, Holden,” he whispered. “You can’t just ask and not take.”
It was all the push I needed. I closed the gap, Hendrix’s breath warm against my lips, until I leaned in, and pressed my lips to his. His mouth met mine softly at first, his lips tentative, gentle as if he wanted to savor the moment before diving in. The faint scrape of his stubble brushed my skin, the contrast sending a thrill down my spine. His jawline, sharp and strong, moved under my palm as I cupped his face, feeling the power and tension there, the strength of his neck taut beneath my fingers.
When his tongue flicked against the seam of my lips, I let him in, my mouth opening to his in a rush of heat. His tongue stroked mine in a slow, sensual rhythm that stole my breath. Then it changed, growing bolder, more commanding, his tongue curling and dueling against mine in a battle I wasn’t ready to lose. He sucked my tongue into his mouth, the heat and pressure drawing a gasp from my throat and a sudden, uncontrollable hardening low in my stomach.
“Fuck,” I breathed, the word slipping out as his hands slid to my waist, his grip firm, possessive. My fingers threaded into his hair, tugging his long messy curls just enough to make him groan against my mouth, the sound low and rough, sparking another jolt of arousal through me.
I bit down gently on his lower lip, tugging it between my teeth, then sucked to soothe the sting. His chest pressed to mine, solid and warm, the heat between us building as his lips slanted over mine, his stubble brushing and scratching in a way that made me want more of him.
His thumb stroked the line of my jaw, his gaze searching mine before flicking down to my mouth. “Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?”
I smirked, my lips brushing his as I answered, “Not with you.”
The faintest laugh escaped him, rough and edged with heat. “Yeah, I got that.”
Before he could say more, I leaned back in, capturing his mouth with mine again. This time, I pushed harder, taking the lead. My tongue swept against his, deepening the kiss as my hips shifted instinctively, seeking the heat and friction that made my pulse race. Hendrix met me move for move, his hands gripping tighter, his mouth demanding and consuming, but I gave as good as I got.
His breath hitched as I nipped at his lip again, and his response was immediate—a low growl that rumbled against my chest as he pulled me closer, his strength undeniable but tempered with a care that sent a shiver through me. His tongue sought mine again, stroking, teasing, sucking, until I couldn’t think of anything but him—his mouth, his hands, the way his body felt so solid and hard against mine.
My fingers traced the strong line of his jaw, his neck, feeling the flex of muscle beneath his skin as he kissed me like he couldn’t get enough. And I wanted to give him more, everything, because this—fuck, this…was like nothing I’d ever known.
“Damn, I didn’t think you had this in you.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted, my voice tight as my head tipped back, exposing my neck to him. His mouth found the sensitive skin just below my ear, and I shivered, the sensation sending jolts of electricity down my spine.
“What do I do next?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
Hendrix let out a breathless laugh, his lips brushing my neck as he answered. “Touch me.”
His hands slid under my shirt, his palms rough and warm against my skin. “Let me show you,” he murmured, his voice dark and promising.
I followed his instructions, my movements tentative at first, pressing my palms against his chest. His hands roamed, exploring the muscles of my back, the curve of my ass, the strength in my thighs as I moved against him.
Hendrix’s hands tightened on me, his grip firm and possessive, like he was staking a claim. “You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he muttered against my neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin with each word.
I shuddered, my body responding in ways I didn’t fully understand but couldn’t fight. I pulled him up against me, so we were standing pressed together at the foot of the bed. My hips moved on instinct, grinding against him, and the sharp, aching pressure made me gasp.
I could feel all of him, the hard coil of his cock pressing against mine through our pants. The friction was maddening, every shift of his hips pushing us tighter together, the unrelenting heat pooling low in my stomach. Hendrix let out a low groan, his fingers digging into my waist as he ground back against me, the hard length of him sliding against mine, sending sparks through every nerve in my body.
“Like fuck, I can feel everything,” I ground out, my breath hitching as the solid length of him pressed into me. “You’re so fucking huge—I can feel how thick and hard you are, even through our pants.” My voice caught as his cock dragged along mine, the sheer size of him making every movement sharper, heavier, more overwhelming. “It’s—” I broke off with a guttural groan, the stiff pressure of him grinding against me making my pulse race. Every slide sent jolts through me, the friction not just maddening but consuming, like my entire body was tuned to this one sensation. “It’s so fucking good,” I muttered, my hips rocking forward, chasing more of the aching drag.
“That’s all you, Holden. You’re making me this fucking hard. I’m fucking leaking already.”
His words made my cock jerk, the pressure between us so sharp it bordered on unbearable. I rocked against him again, unable to stop myself, the friction sending a shudder through both of us as we moved together in a messy, desperate rhythm.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough and low, like gravel against silk.
“Yeah,” I admitted, my breath hitching. “Don’t stop.”
“Let me make it better,” he said, his hands sliding under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one smooth motion.
He stepped back and stared at me, his eyes mapping the planes of my chest, my abs, and then his gaze dropped lower.
He stepped back in and his lips hovered above mine, his voice a low murmur. “You’re so fucking hot, Holden,” he said, his stormy blue eyes dark with heat.
I swallowed hard, the words hitting me like a jolt. “Says the guy with half of Charleston chasing after him,” I managed, trying to match his confidence.
Hendrix smirked, his hand sliding down my chest, tracing the ridges of my abs. “But the only one with my attention right now is you.” His fingers brushed my bulge, his touch light but confident, and I sucked in a breath. I took hold of the front of his shirt, unbuttoning him slowly as he toyed with the tip of my cock through my pants. Once I got his shirt unbuttoned, he shrugged it off, and grinned, pausing to strip off his pants and black boxer briefs in one fluid motion.
When they hit the floor, my breath caught. I froze for a second, my eyes drinking him in. His chest was broad and defined, his shoulders strong, his skin golden under the dim light. My gaze traced the tattoo curling across his pec, the intricate inking of an acoustic guitar whose strings faded into ocean waves. I couldn’t help but reach out, my fingers brushing over the curve of his chest, then moving to the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach.
Hendrix was all long lines and sharp angles, his cock standing out proudly against the cut of his abs. It was long— a little longer than mine—with a slight downward curve that made my mouth go dry. His tattoos rippled subtly as he shifted, the designs pulling the eye lower, framing his V muscles like an invitation.
“Fuck, you’re hard to look at,” I groaned, the words tumbling out unbidden, raw and honest.
“You like?” he teased, stepping closer, his hand brushing over his length. “I’d say you’re staring, but I can’t blame you because I wanna stare at you too.”
“You’re so fucking hung.”
Hendrix grinned, a flash of white teeth, and his stormy eyes glinted with something wicked and pleased before climbing back onto the bed, his body pressing into mine, heat meeting heat as his lips found my throat. “Well, now I gotta see.”
He stripped me with a practiced ease, his hands sure as he worked each piece of clothing away. His gaze roamed over me, unhurried and intent, as though he were committing every detail to memory. My body felt exposed, but not in the vulnerable way I might have expected—it felt powerful, under the heat of his attention. My chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and his eyes lingered on the sharp definition of my abs, the dip of my hip bones, and the long, lean lines of my thighs. His fingers brushed the ink etched into my ribs, tracing the quote there with a reverence that made my skin prickle. “You’re fucking cut,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand skimming over my sides to trail down, his fingers teasing my patch of hair.
Then his hand wrapped around me, his palm warm and firm, stroking with a deliberate slowness that made my stomach tighten. I sucked in a sharp breath, my hips jerking involuntarily as his thumb dragged over the sensitive ridge just beneath the head of my cock.
“Damn, you’re responsive. And this crown is massive. It makes me wanna play with your tip until you’re begging,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head of my cock, swollen pink and flared at the slit.
His words sent a bolt of heat through me, and my whole body tensed under his touch, every nerve alive and screaming. I swallowed hard, my lips parting as my breath hitched, but I couldn’t find words—not with the way Hendrix looked at me, like I was something he’d never seen before but had always wanted.
“You don’t even know what you do to me, Holden.”
I swallowed hard, my chest still heaving, my body still trembling from his mouth, his hands, his everything. But his words—fuck, his words hit like a match to gasoline. I licked my lips, my voice unsteady but bold. “Tell me.”
His laugh was low and sharp, more growl than sound. “You want me to tell you? You want me to spell out every fucking filthy thing I’ve thought about doing to you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, leaning in closer, my lips brushing his. “I want to hear it all.”
Hendrix’s eyes darkened, his gaze flicking down to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes. “I want to pin you down, feel you squirm under me while I fuck your mouth with my tongue, taste every goddamn sound you make. I want to push you to the edge until you’re begging me for more.”
My breath hitched, my body responding to his words as if they were touches, and he noticed. His grin was sharp and wicked, and his hand slid down, fingers grazing the sharp cut of my hips. “I want you under me, over me, however I can have you,” he continued, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “I want to hear you lose control, Holden. I want to hear my name come out of your mouth like it’s the only thing you can say.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, my hands curling into the sheets, desperate to ground myself against the rising heat threatening to drown me.
“What about you?” Hendrix said, his tone daring as his fingers brushed my tip. “What do you want?”
I hesitated for half a second before letting go, the words spilling out of me like they’d been trapped for years. “I want to touch you,” I said, my voice raw. “I want to see you come undone because of me.” My hand slid up his chest, the hard ridges of his muscles flexing beneath my touch. “I want to feel all of you, Hendrix. Every fucking inch.”
I grinned, the boldness building in my chest as I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed over him. “You want to hear it? Fine. I want to taste you,” I said, my voice low but firm. “I want to lick every inch of you, feel you in my mouth, hear you groan because you can’t fucking handle it.”
Hendrix’s breath hitched, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise. “You talk a big game, Holden,” he said, his voice tight. “Let’s see if your mouth is as good as your promises.”
But he reached for me first, his hands firm as he pushed me off of him and onto my back. His confidence was electric, a mix of control and need that sent a thrill through me. His palms slid down my thighs, spreading them wide before he knelt between them.
When his mouth finally found my cock, his lips wrapping around the head, I nearly lost it. The heat of him was overwhelming, wet and slick, his tongue working the sensitive ridge with maddening precision before taking me deeper.
“Fuck, Hendrix,” I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging slightly as a sharp jolt of pleasure coursed through me. “You’re—shit, you’re good at this.”
He pulled back just enough to shoot me a wicked grin, the slick sheen of his lips making my chest tighten. “I know,” he said, his voice glittered with mirth, before his mouth descended again. This time, his hand joined in, stroking the base of my cock in perfect rhythm with his tongue, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
He hummed around me, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure racing through my body. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he worked me with an unrelenting rhythm, his mouth wet and hot, his tongue teasing every sensitive spot.
When his fingers pressed against the seam beneath my balls, a low, uncontrollable sound escaped me. “Shit,” I choked out, my breath catching. “Oh—fuck.”
“Is that what you needed?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to grin up at me. “Because I’m just getting started.”
The combination of his mouth and his hands was intoxicating, but I wasn’t about to let him have all the control. With a sharp inhale, I shifted, pressing at his shoulder to nudge him onto his side. He followed my lead, raising an eyebrow, curiosity and heat mingling in his gaze.
“What’re you up to?” he asked, his voice rough, his breath warm against my thigh.
“Making it fair,” I said, the words bold even as my heart hammered. I twisted my body, mirroring his position in reverse so that I was facing his cock. With his head now near my hips and my feet pressed against the headboard for balance, our bodies aligned in a sideways tangle, my cheek brushing his thigh as I leaned down.
I didn’t wait for him to start again. Instead, I leaned in, my lips brushing the head of his cock before taking him into my mouth. His groan was low and guttural, the vibration of it reverberating through me, sending a spark of heat straight to my stomach.
His cock was thick and unfamiliar in my mouth, the stretch uncomfortable at first, but I pulled back, adjusting to his size. I started slow, tentative, letting my tongue trace the prominent vein along his shaft. He twitched under my touch, and I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around the head, tasting the faint saltiness that lingered there.
Hendrix moaned, his hips jerking slightly. “Shit, Holden—you’re a fucking fast learner.”
I grinned around him, emboldened by his reaction. Matching the rhythm he set on me, I experimented, my lips sliding lower, my hand twisting at his base as I sucked harder. His groans became curses, rough and low, and the sounds spurred me on, pushing me to see how far I could take him.
Hendrix let out a groan as I pressed my tongue into his slit, pushing deeper, tasting him more fully. “Fuck, Holden,” he growled. “That’s—ughh, you’re gonna do me in.”
“Not yet,” I warned, my hand sliding lower to cup his balls. They were heavy and warm in my palm, and I lifted them gently, my tongue tracing the seam beneath. His body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips, and I grinned against his skin.
“You’re fucking relentless.”
I didn’t stop, my tongue moving further, exploring the seam and teasing the sensitive skin. His body trembled beneath me, his thighs tensing as he let out a string of curses that only made me want to push him further.
“Fuck, Holden,” he groaned, his hands gripping my shoulders. “You’re gonna make me?—”
“Do it,” I said, my voice firm before I took him deep again.
His release was sudden and intense, his body arching off the bed as he came, hot and thick against my tongue. I swallowed him down, savoring the taste, the weight of him still heavy on my lips as he stilled, his thighs trembling.
But before I could feel too smug, Hendrix’s hands were on me again, firm and possessive, guiding me as his mouth wrapped around my cock, hot and unrelenting. He didn’t hesitate, taking me deeper, his lips sealing tight as he sucked hard, pulling me straight to the back of his throat. I groaned, my head tipping back as the wet heat engulfed me, his tongue swirling along the sensitive underside before he took me down further, his throat pulsing around the tip of my cock.
The pressure was unbearable, his throat constricting as he swallowed me whole, the tightness making my body tremble. My breaths turned into ragged gasps, and his name tumbled from my lips like a prayer as the sensation built to a sharp edge. When he took me even deeper, the slick pull of his mouth relentless, I couldn’t hold back.
“Fuck, God, Hendrix, I’m gonna…I can’t—” My words broke off in a strangled cry as my body gave in, my cum pulsing into his mouth in long, shuddering streams, each contraction wringing out everything I had.
He didn’t let up, his tongue and lips working me over with an unrelenting rhythm that left me trembling. Even when I thought I had nothing left to give, he stayed with me, swallowing every last drop until I was dry and spent. My fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently, a silent plea for mercy. His tongue swept over my inflamed crown once more, a slow, deliberate lick that made me twitch and gasp. When he finally pulled back, his lips were slick and curved into a wicked grin.
I didn’t respond, too dazed to form words, but he leaned over me, his hand sliding up my chest to cup the side of my neck. His lips brushed mine, soft at first, then bolder, and I tasted myself on him, salty and heady and impossibly intimate.
I kissed him back, letting my tongue slide against his, tasting both of us as our tongues mingled. The kiss wasn’t just heat—it was connection, raw and consuming, like we were staking a claim on each other in the aftermath of everything we’d shared.
We finally collapsed side by side on the bed, breathless and flushed, the taste of each other still lingering on our tongues. The silence between us was heavy with everything we’d just done, but Hendrix broke it first, his voice low and rough.
“Jesus, Holden,” Hendrix groaned, his hand sliding lazily over my thigh, his voice still thick with satisfaction. “You really haven’t done that before?”
I shook my head, a faint grin tugging at my lips. “No,” I admitted, my voice hoarse but steady. “I just…did what I like. Figured if it drives me crazy, it’d probably work for you too.”
Hendrix let out a low chuckle, his fingers brushing lightly along my skin. “Well, I guess sucking dick is a hidden talent of yours. Who woulda thought?”
I turned my head to look at him, still catching my breath, my chest rising and falling unevenly. “Yeah?” My voice was hoarse, but the words came anyway. “I’m glad it was alright. You’re huge, man. I know I didn’t swallow you down all the way like you did me. I’ve never had anyone do that. You didn’t just suck me off—you fucking devoured me.”
Hendrix’s grin spread slowly, his blue eyes burning with satisfaction. “Good,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “That’s exactly what I wanted—to have you lose control, to feel you come apart in my mouth.” His hand slid higher up my thigh, his fingers brushing lazily over my skin. “But don’t think for a second you didn’t wreck me too. The way you sucked my tip—and when you licked my balls, holding them in your mouth while you stroked me? Fuck, Holden, that finished me. I came so hard I swear I saw stars.”
I swallowed hard, my body responding to his words even as I tried to steady myself. “I’ve always wondered…what about the taste?” I asked hesitantly, my voice quieter but thick with curiosity. “What did I taste like?”
Hendrix smirked, his lips curving into something suggestive. “A little sweet,” he said, his voice low. “Probably all the pineapple you eat. It was clean, smooth. I coulda kept sucking on you after you came.”
I let out a shaky laugh, my cheeks burning. “You’re ridiculous.”
His smirk didn’t fade, his hand trailing higher as he leaned in. “And me? What did I taste like?”
I exhaled slowly, the memory still fresh and vivid in my mind. “A little creamy,” I said, my voice dipping. “With a light saltiness. Didn’t really have much taste which I assume is good.”
“Good to know,” he said, pretending to pout. “But damn, I was hoping for something more…decadent. Like buttercream frosting. Guess I’ll never make the dessert menu.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I swatted his chest. “Oh fuck off, you dumbass,” I shot back though I couldn’t stop grinning.
His laughter joined mine, the tension between us easing into something lighter. He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. “What a fucking night,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Did you ever think we’d end up here?”
“Not exactly,” I chuckled as I leaned back against the pillows. “We walked into a fever dream, stumbled headfirst into a nightmare, and then somehow ended up living out a fantasy.”
Hendrix let out a soft laugh, his hand brushing against mine. “Yeah,” he murmured, his cool gaze locking with mine. “Hell of a plot twist.