15. Wesley
WESLEY
I’m not sure how it played out, but Sean and Bailey are standing. David is not.
His crumpled body is on the rooftop tile, unconscious and still breathing, which is honestly more than he deserves. Sean’s standing beside Bailey, who’s flushed, eyes glassy, dress wrinkled in a way that says she’s either been through hell—or something much better.
And judging by the pink across her chest and the way her thighs are still pressed together? Yeah. Something much better.
Huck lets out a low breath behind me. “Told you.”
I don’t say anything. Because he did. His exact words were “If Sean finds her with David, they’re gonna fuck.” How he knew that, I don’t know.
I just meet Sean’s eyes, and he gives me the barest nod. We’re all on the same wavelength now.
Bailey looks up at us, lips still parted. Her mascara is smudged, and her mouth is kiss-bruised, but she’s standing tall, like a queen surveying the battlefield.
“Hey,” I say gently.
She swallows. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
Her chin lifts. “Better now.”
Sean brushes his fingers down her arm. “You want to get out of here?”
“Not yet.”
She glances between us—me, Huck, Sean—and I see it. The flicker. The need that hasn’t burned out yet. Her pupils widen. Her breath catches. Her body remembers.
I step forward, slow, until I’m close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. “You still flying high?”
She nods. “Not ready to land yet.”
My lips curve. “I can tell.” I brush my fingers down her arm, then past her hip. Her body leans into mine, subtle but deliberate. Behind her, Huck exhales slowly, hands unclenching.
Sean speaks first. “We take her downstairs? This is a hotel, after all?—”
“No. Right here. Right now . ”
Bailey moans, wrecked, and now so am I.
I kiss her like I’ve been starving for it.
Because I have. Not just the softness of her mouth or the way she tilts her head like she’s daring me to bite—but the fire under it.
Bailey doesn’t just kiss back. She takes .
She demands. Her hands slide up my chest, fisting in my lapels as if she’s already picked the next thing she wants.
Sean’s still behind her, steady hands on her waist, anchoring her. Huck steps in close, and I hear the shift in his breath when he sees her dress rumpled, panties missing, inner thighs slick and still parted.
“Fuck,” he growls under his breath.
Bailey breaks the kiss, just barely, enough to murmur, “You boys gonna just stare or?—?”
She doesn’t finish.
Because I grab her wrist, guide it to my zipper, and watch her pupils blow wide again.
“On your knees,” I say.
She drops like gravity made her do it.
Right there on the rooftop of a classy hotel. Cold tile under her, hair tangled from wind and sex, and the moonlight catching on the damp line down her inner thigh.
I undo my belt. Slide my cock free.
Her mouth parts.
But I don’t give it to her yet.
“Beg,” I say, gripping her jaw.
“Please,” she breathes. “Please let me suck you off.”
I let her.
She wraps her lips around me like she was born to worship. Hot, wet, greedy little sucks, tongue dragging under the shaft, one hand stroking what her mouth can’t take. I fist her hair and groan as her eyes lock on mine—watching, daring, devouring.
Sean’s already crouched behind her again. Lifting the back of her dress.
Her body jolts when he slides inside her again, and she moans around my cock—vibration hitting me so hard I almost lose it on the spot.
Huck brushes her hair back with a gentleness that doesn’t match the size of his hands. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look at you. So fucking perfect like this, taking his cock the way you were made to.”
She tries to nod. She can’t. Her mouth’s too full. Her pussy’s full too. She’s glowing, making the filthiest sounds I’ve ever heard. Not because she’s choking. Because she likes it. Because she moans like every inch of her is wired into the rhythm of what we’re doing to her.
Her hands shake, her thighs tremble, but her eyes never leave mine until they roll back in her head.
I keep one hand in her hair, the other braced behind me on the rooftop ledge, letting her use her mouth however she wants. She takes me deep, slow, then fast—messy, beautiful, so goddamn eager I forget how to breathe.
Behind her, Sean grunts.
I glance over and watch him grab her hips tighter, buried in her to the base, fucking her with steady, unforgiving strokes. His jaw is tight, sweat on his brow even in the wind, like he’s holding himself together by sheer will.
Bailey lets go of my cock with a gasp and leans her forehead against my thigh. “Fuck, I’m close again.”
Huck strokes her back gently, reverently. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you.” His hand disappears under her dress. Sean changes his angle, and Bailey screams .
Not loud. Just raw, torn out of her. “Right there—guys, please—don’t stop?—”
They don’t. And she shatters.
Her knees slide on the tile, but Huck catches her. She sobs into his shoulder while her whole body jerks from the force of her orgasm, thighs clenched, core fluttering around Sean’s cock.
Sean curses. “Turn her around.”
Huck does, just as Sean pulls out fast and strokes himself once, twice?—
“Open your mouth,” he growls.
Bailey tilts her head up, lips parted, eyes glassy.
Sean groans and spills across her tongue, hot and thick and so much of it. She swallows without being told, licking her lips like she wants more.
Huck and I both just stare at her. Ravished. Ruinous. Perfect.
“Come here,” Huck says, voice low.
Bailey crawls into his lap, dress bunched at her hips, still catching her breath. “I want you inside me too,” she whispers, clutching his shirt.
He kisses her, then lifts her effortlessly, pulling her onto his cock like she weighs nothing. She whimpers and rides him. Flashes of her ass catch my eyes as her dress whips in the wind. And I sit back and watch, stroking myself slowly, waiting for round two, knowing we’re not done.
Not even close.
Bailey is moaning into Huck’s neck, her voice broken and blissed-out. She bounces in his lap, every grind of her hips making him curse under his breath. She rides him like she knows she owns him. Like she owns us all.
And she does. No matter what games we play.
Her skin shines with sweat and moonlight. Her dress is nothing but a tangle of silk clinging to her ribs. Her lipstick’s long gone, her hair’s a mess, and she’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I stroke myself as I watch her come again—her whole body shaking, thighs trembling, back arching, crying out into Huck’s mouth.
He comes with her. Hard. He holds her close, face buried in her neck, body tense as he groans through it. When he finishes, he kisses her like a man praying at an altar, arms wrapped around her like a shield.
Bailey turns to me next. She doesn’t say anything. She just reaches out.
I cross the space in two steps, take her hand, and pull her gently off Huck’s lap. She stumbles into me, boneless and grinning.
“You good?” I murmur.
“Better than good,” she breathes. “But not finished.”
That’s all I need.
I back her against the rooftop’s railing next to her unconscious ex, hike her up into my arms, and slide into her like we were always meant to fit. She’s wet and hot and open for me, and when she gasps into my ear, I nearly lose it on the first thrust. “Wes—fuck—yes?—”
I pin her wrists behind her back with one hand, holding her in place. My other hand grips her thigh, lifting her higher, angling her just right so every thrust hits her deep.
She’s crying out now—loud, shameless, echoing off the rooftop like she wants the world to hear.
“You take every inch so good,” I growl, teeth dragging along her throat.
“Harder,” she begs.
I give her everything. I fuck her until my legs shake. Until her body collapses against mine. Until the only thing either of us knows is the slick sound of skin and the high, ragged rhythm of breathing between kisses.
And when she comes one last time, clenched tight around me, head thrown back, tears in her eyes from how hard it hits—I spill into her with a groan and hold her like I’m afraid she’ll vanish if I let go. Wrapped in my arms, body twitching, lips parted in a smile that says I’m here. I’m alive.
We don’t say a damn word for a long time. Not until the wind picks up again, and Sean shrugs his jacket off to drape over her shoulders.
I’m dying to know. “So, what happened up here?”
Sean grunts. “The bastard threatened to throw her off the roof.”
The wind is knocked out of my lungs for a beat. “Motherfucker.”
“Yeah.”
“And we’re leaving him alive?”
“For now.”
I nod toward her. “Pressing charges?”
Bailey shakes her head and finally speaks, glaring down her nose at her ex. A queen sneering at a peasant. She nudges him with her shoe, but he doesn’t budge. “I kind of hope he’s just pretending to be unconscious so he had a chance to see how you’re supposed to fuck a woman.”