24. Landon
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Landon
“I feel like such a pervert.”
The words are soft, nearly lost in the hum of the TV. For a second I think I’ve imagined them until I see the green light blink steady on the baby monitor in front of us.
Her voice. Ivy’s voice. Not in this room, but carrying clear enough through the tiny speaker that it sinks into my bones.
Rhett stiffens beside me. Hunter’s voice comes next, calm, low, the kind of voice that doesn’t rise unless it has to.
“Explain.”
I lean forward slightly, pulse ticking harder.
“I don’t get it,” Ivy whispers. “I want you both. I want you so badly. Sex with you is… it’s so good. But then sex with Landon is good too. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Hunter chuckles, a rough sound that vibrates through the monitor. Rhett curses under his breath and pushes his chair back as he starts to stand.
“Wait,” I bite out. The word is sharp, sharper than I mean, but it stops him. My pulse hammers, steady and loud in my ears.
He looks at me, eyes hard, but I don’t move. I don’t need to explain. Not when her voice is spilling through the speaker like this, unguarded, raw.
Hunter again, coaxing. “Explain more. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
There’s a rustle, fabric against fabric. Then Ivy’s voice again, soft, uneven, like she’s fighting herself to get the words out.
“When you touch me…” she whispers, “I can’t think. I can’t breathe. It’s like my body just… breaks apart under your hands. Both of you. The way Rhett pins me down, the way you stretch me open and edge me until I’m begging. I ache when you’re not inside me. My whole body just… aches.”
The words scrape through the cheap plastic of the monitor but still manage to pour molten into my bloodstream.
She draws in a shaky breath. “And it doesn’t stop when it’s over. Even when I’m lying there sore, wrecked, I’m still wanting. Still hungry. And I hate it because…” Her voice falters, then steadies. “Even after. Even when I’m with you, I think of him.”
Her pause is sharp, cutting right through me.
“Landon.” My name, whispered like a secret.
“I think of him when I’m with you. I think about his mouth between my legs, the way he bites when he kisses me, how rough he gets like he’s trying to fuck the air out of my lungs.
And it makes me feel like I’m betraying you, but I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting all of it.”
My grip tightens on the bottle in front of me. I’m staring at the blinking green light on the monitor like I could burn it out with my eyes.
Her whisper tumbles on, desperate now. “Rhett is slow sometimes, so careful, and Hunter, you’re—fuck—you’re playful, teasing, like you enjoy watching me fall apart.
But him? Landon takes. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t wait.
He just… fucks me until I forget my own name. And I want that, too. I want it all.”
A sound leaves me—low, rough, almost a growl—but I bite it back before it can escape the room.
On the monitor, her voice fractures. “So what does that make me? Am I some kind of pervert because I can’t choose? Because I want the softness and the sweetness and the way you worship me, but also the way Landon ruins me until I can’t walk straight?”
Hunter groans, deep and jagged, right into the speaker. “I’m getting hard just listening to you, baby.”
My cock throbs in response, thick and straining against my thigh. Shameless. Immediate. I shift in my seat under the dim light, every nerve lit up.
Her voice is smaller now, but no less raw. “So I’m not a pervert?”
Hunter’s reply is sharp with conviction. “Not at all. Don’t villainize yourself for desire. Desire isn’t shameful. It’s the truth of what your body needs. And your body”—a pause, then the faint wet sound of a kiss against her mouth—“is made to be worshiped.”
A soft, strangled sound escapes her throat. “Fuck,” she whispers.
Then his voice, rougher now: “How about I take you to the bedroom and help with that ache?”
“Yes,” she breathes, so faint it’s nearly lost.
“Are you feeling needy? Wet?”
Her whimper cuts through the static, raw and needy.
The scrape of footsteps. The slam of a door shutting. Silence.
Rhett and I stare at each other across the table. His jaw ticks tight, his chest rising heavy.
My fists curl in my lap. My balls ache with the weight of everything I just heard.
I want to tear the walls down just to get to her. My breathing is uneven, heady, the pressure in my cock nearly unbearable.
Neither of us speaks.
The absurdity hits me, and I let out a dry laugh. “You know,” I murmur, my lawyer’s brain surfacing even through the fog of arousal, “eavesdropping is against the law. Florida Statute 934.03. It’s a felony to intentionally intercept oral communication without consent.”
Rhett just laughs, sharp and humorless. “Now what?”
I don’t have an answer. My throat is tight.
But then, barely two minutes later—two minutes—there’s noise in the hall. The door opens.
Ivy steps back into the living room, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen. Hunter is right behind her, mouth wiped on the back of his hand, but his dick is straining against his pants like a flag at full mast.
Did he eat her out? The thought slams into me like a fist.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and all I can think of is her taste. That slick heat flooding my tongue, the way she’d squirm if I pinned her down and licked her until she screamed.
Her eyes flick to us, curious, oblivious. “What’s going on?”
Rhett doesn’t answer. Instead, he points at the monitor sitting in the middle of the table, its little green light still glowing like a cruel joke.
“The monitor in Chloe’s room,” he says flatly. “Picked up everything.”
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then the color drains from her face, leaving her pale. Her eyes go wide, horror and shock etched across every line of her expression.
My cock throbs so hard it hurts.
Because all I can think about—while she stands frozen in the doorway, lips parted in dawning horror—is how her voice had sounded saying she wanted us all. How her moans had spilled out like confession. How my name had been tangled in there too.
I don’t regret hearing a single second of it.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is thin, cracked down the middle. Ivy’s hand hovers near her chest as though she could hide the bruises there, hide the sound of her own confession that has been bleeding through this goddamn monitor.
Something in me snaps.
I’m out of my chair before I can think better of it, before caution can lace its sharp fingers around my throat the way it usually does.
The part of me that thrives on control is nowhere to be found. What’s left is raw and reckless, and it carries me straight to her.
Her eyes flicker wide when I reach her, but she doesn’t move. I cup her jaw, tilt her face up, and crush my mouth against hers.
She melts instantly.
The shock in her body softens into heat, into a pliant surrender that makes me groan against her lips. She tastes like beer and salt air, like a secret I wasn’t supposed to hear but now can’t unknow.
Her hands fist in my shirt, dragging me closer until there’s nothing between us but the heat of her body and the sound of my pulse roaring in my ears.
When I pull back, it’s only far enough to see the dazed look in her eyes, the faint whimper still on her lips. My voice comes out rough, unguarded.
“For the record,” I tell her, “I could learn to share.”
She moans. A soft, involuntary sound that spears straight through me.
Behind us, Hunter lets out a long, low whistle. “Well, shit.”
Rhett’s voice rumbles next, dry as gravel. “Are you all lip service, or are we supposed to take that at face value?”
“I—what the hell is going on?” Ivy blurts, her voice high and uneven, but I don’t give her the chance to spiral.
I kiss her again. Harder this time. Her lips part beneath mine, and I take, stroking my tongue against hers. When I break away, her eyes are glassy, her chest heaving.
“If you want to try,” I murmur against her mouth, “we could.”
The words feel insane even as they leave me. I’ve never said them in my life. Never imagined saying them. But now? Now they’re the only truth that makes sense.
The other two don’t speak at first. They just look at each other. A silent exchange passes between them—years of trust compressed into one sharp nod.
Rhett’s eyes are locked on Ivy. “Do you want this?”
Hunter leans in, voice teasing but threaded with seriousness. “Careful, baby. I know you just came, so don’t let the thought of my mouth on you again confuse the answer. You need to be fully aware of what you’re signing up for.”
Her eyes dart between us, frantic. “Are you serious? Three guys?”
Rhett’s mouth lifts in a small, almost embarrassed smile. “I’ve never done it.”
Hunter wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smirking like the cocky bastard he is. “Oh, I’ve had a fivesome before, so I’m good.”
Rhett stares at him. “You’re going to need to give me more details about that.”
I can’t help the dry huff of laughter that escapes me. “Christ.” I shake my head, then meet Ivy’s eyes again. I bring my hand to her cheek, stroke gently across her skin. Her breath stutters under the touch.
“It’s your choice,” I say. My voice is low, calm again, though there’s nothing calm about the way I’m vibrating apart.
She’s breathing heavy, her lips parted. Her eyes dart down, then up, her body visibly trembling. “This is insane,” she whispers.
“Probably,” I answer, my thumb still moving slow across her cheek. “But?”
Her eyes flash with heat and fear and hunger all tangled together. “But… okay.”
The air in the room shifts instantly. Hunter lets out a low groan like he’s been holding it back this whole time. Rhett’s jaw flexes, his gaze fixed on her mouth like he’s seconds away from tasting it himself.
He’s the first to move. Rhett dips his head, cupping her nape, and kisses her. She sighs against his mouth, her body softening again, caught between the push and pull of all of us.
Hunter, never one to stay patient for long, grins and tugs at the waistband of her shorts. “You’re going to need to be a hands-on learner, Landon.”
Her breath catches as the fabric slides down her hips, baring the soft curve of her thighs. My cock strains so hard it hurts.
Rhett pulls back just enough to murmur against her ear, “We’ll need the lube.”