13. Annie
Chapter 13
Annie
I wasn’t supposed to be this kind of girl.
Not the kind who lets herself get pressed up against a balcony railing with her thighs clenching around a rising ache, not the kind who kisses a man like she needs him to breathe, not the kind who whimpers when his hands start to wander.
But here I was.
My fingers were buried in Cole’s shirt, holding on like I might float off the edge of the world if I let go. His mouth was on mine—hot and insistent—and I could taste the faint sweetness of beer and heat and something darker, something hungry, something just… him.
And god, I wanted more.
His body pressed me harder against the balcony railing, and I could feel him—God, I could feel him—thick and hard, his cock straining like it was begging to be freed.
My whole body lit up at the contact. My clit throbbed, my panties already soaked, and he hadn’t even really touched me yet.
Cole groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as his hand slipped under the hem of the hoodie I was wearing—Xavi’s, I realized distantly—and splayed across my bare skin. I was only wearing a crop top under it. His fingers were rough, warm, reverent as they traced over the small of my back, making me shiver.
I didn’t stop him. Didn’t even slow him down.
Instead, I opened my legs for him, shamelessly needy, heart pounding as his fingers grazed the edge of my panties.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I gasped, even as my hips tilted toward his touch. “I’m not?—”
Cole’s mouth found the curve of my neck again, sucking a mark into my skin like he wanted to brand me, and I felt it—everywhere.
“Not what?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, hand sliding beneath the lace, fingers skating along my slit and making me gasp. “Not the kind of girl who gets fingered on a balcony by a man she barely knows?”
Oh. My. God.
My knees buckled.
He hooked a finger into my panties, dragging them aside with a single, ruthless move. The next moment, his fingers were between my folds, dragging through the slick heat like he was tasting me with his tongue.
He groaned again, deeper this time.
Then he slipped one finger inside me.
I choked on my breath.
He didn’t go slow. He pushed in deep, until his knuckle was brushing my entrance, curling his finger just right—like he knew exactly how to find the spot that made me jolt and claw at his shoulders.
I moaned, helpless against the sensation.
Then he added a second finger.
My head fell back, the stretch making my legs shake as he started to thrust them in and out of me—slow at first, deep and deliberate, curling with every pump.
“Cole—oh my god—” My breath hitched. Everything inside me tightened. His thumb went to my clit, slick and precise, circling with firm, knowing pressure. My thighs spread wider, my hips jerking against his hand, chasing every perfect thrust, every grind of his palm.
My walls fluttered around his fingers, the pressure building, spiraling?—
“I don’t— I shouldn’t be—” I gasped. “I’m not?—”
“Shhh,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Be a good girl, then, and come for me.” His fingers curled again, rubbing hard over that spot inside me while his thumb pushed down on my clit.
And I snapped.
The orgasm tore through me like a goddamn wrecking ball.
My whole body locked up—thighs shaking, walls clenching hard around his fingers, back arching as a cry ripped from my throat, raw and broken.
“That's it.” Cole grunted, still working me through it, dragging out every spasm, every wave of heat that flooded my core.
I could barely stand. I sagged against him, breathless, my muscles pulsing around his fingers still buried inside me.
He kissed me through it, slow and possessive now, as if he wanted to memorize the taste of me falling apart.
When I finally caught my breath, I felt his fingers slip from my body, and I whimpered.
His lips moved against mine with a desperate intensity, one I now struggled to match.
He was… perfect. So experienced.
The kiss broke, both of us coming up for much-needed air. My chest rose and fell so rapidly it almost hurt, and even as reality started to crash back into me, he didn’t let me go. He kept me held to him like I’d run the first chance I got.
And oh my god, I was going to.
What the hell was I doing?
My breathing faltered as I gently pushed back against his chest, trying to give myself a bit more space, and I watched as he held my gaze, his lips still parted, his mouth still close enough to feel the heat in his breath.
But he reluctantly obliged and released me, his hands moving so slowly I almost second-guessed myself.
“I-I’m sorry,” I murmured, panic beginning to rise in me. I wasn’t sure why I was apologizing — I wasn’t the one who’d initiated that. But I was definitely the one about to bolt. “I… I just need to go inside. I?—”
I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t.
I didn’t finish my sentence before I turned and moved back toward the door, my spent-stupid brain calling the shots and surging me forward. If he said something to me, I couldn’t hear it, and I slipped back inside with shaking hands fumbling the sliding glass door.
I shouldn’t have let him kiss me. I shouldn’t have kissed him back. And I certainly shouldn't have let him give me an orgasm.
But there wasn’t a single part of me that could deny how badly I’d wanted it.
How badly I wanted it from all three of them.
I didn’t know where I was going, just that I needed to get away, needed to breathe, needed to stop my mind from spinning. Needed to go home and put as much space between me and Cole and Xavi and Colton.
What had I just done? What had we just done?
I pushed my way through the house, everything a blur of confusion, a mess of panic. I was out the front door before I even realized it, my phone in my hand, the rideshare app filling the screen.
I didn’t even realize the door had swung open behind me until I was halfway down the driveway. The bright light of the streetlamps made everything feel more surreal, painting the ground around me in harsh yellows, my thoughts jumbled and my heart still racing in my chest.
“Annie?”
The sound of Colton’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. I froze in my tracks, but I didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. I could feel the heat of his presence before he’d even reached me, the unmistakable scent of his cologne fogging my nostrils.
“Where are you going?” I could hear the concern in his voice, the way it was tight and confused and tense, could feel it in the way he stepped closer so hesitantly like he was scared he’d frighten me. He didn’t want to push me, that much was clear, but his urgency told me he wanted to know what was going on.
My jaw tremored as I stood there, feeling like I was a second from cracking under the pressure of everything I was keeping behind my teeth. The fight with Elliot, the orgasm with Cole, the way I wanted to do far more than that with all of them, the mess of emotions in my head — I couldn’t handle it.
I shook my head in frustration, trying to keep my voice and breathing steady. “I just need some space,” I croaked, my chest tightening as I slowly pulled my arm from him. He didn’t try to keep his hold, didn’t try to pull me back. He let me slip out.
I felt the heat of his gaze on me, on my phone, on the car pulling down the road ahead. He just stood there and waited as the hybrid Honda Accord pulled up beside me, as I pulled open the door, as I slid into the seat and shut it behind me.
I didn’t look at him through the window. I couldn’t.
————
The city blurred past the window of the car, neon and traffic lights trailing across the glass. I sat there, curled into the corner of the backseat in Xavi’s hoodie, my knees up and my phone in my hand. Music filtered out through the speakers, something soft and jazzy, but I wasn’t really hearing it. Everything sounded like static against the roar of chaos unraveling in my head.
Cole's mouth, the press of his lips against mine, the hunger of that kiss from both of us.
The way Xavi had held me earlier, had calmed me down, had let me punch him in the stomach. The way he’d caught my gaze and closed in to talk to me after Cole had run off.
And Colton… god, the steady, grounding warmth of his hand around my arm as I’d tried to flee. The way he’d spoken to me, so worried and quiet when that wasn’t his usual demeanor. He’d called after like I mattered, like he wasn’t some prize who was used to girls throwing themselves at him.
They were all so different but so alike in their own ways — Cole’s quiet steadiness and frustration, Xavi’s fierce intensity and calm protectiveness, Colton’s wild, orbital gravity. All of them had made me feel like I was something worth protecting tonight.
What the hell was I doing?
I couldn’t stop myself from pulling out the stupid napkins from my pocket. Only Cole’s number was on them, and I knew I’d need to search through my backpack for the other, for Colton’s?—
Shit . I’d left my backpack in Cole’s car.
The car finally came to a stop outside my building and I got out. My apartment was small — a one-bedroom with barely enough space to turn around in the kitchenette, and I had to shoulder the door just right to get the deadbolt to catch properly.
I kicked off my shoes and dropped my keys beside the door, the weight of the night hitting me all at once.
I collapsed face-first into my comforter, the quiet of my apartment feeling even more oppressive, even more lonely. I had wanted this place to be a sanctuary, a haven, an inspiration zone for myself — but right now, it just felt empty and hollow, like every wall echoed with the sound of Elliot’s voice, of self-doubt, of music I no longer felt entirely confident in.
And somehow, now, I was kissing hockey players and making a mess of things I didn’t even come close to understanding.
I rolled back over, staring at the ceiling, my chest still heaving. I needed to breathe. I needed to stop thinking. I needed a distraction, something I could control, something I could drown out the noise with.
I unbuckled my belt and pants, not even stopping to consider what on earth I was doing. Hooking my thumb under the waistband, I pushed everything down, underwear included, over my thighs and my calves and yanked them off my feet.
There wasn’t a single second wasted on getting myself excited, thinking about Cole's mouth on me, his fingers. I reached for my dresser and yanked the rabbit toy out of it, switched it on, and lifted my knees until my feet were flat on the comforter beneath me.
The vibrations rippled through my hand as I brought it down, dragging the long end over my clit first, my back arching. I wrestled my shirt up beneath the hoodie, raising it and my bralette up to my neck, and clutched the collar of the hoodie, the scent of Xavi surrounding me, overwhelming me.
To my utter lack of surprise, I was already wet and sensitive, and I knew damn well exactly why.
I slipped it inside of myself, muffling my sounds as my head began to spin. Chased away was the panic and the insecurity and the overwhelming guilt of making out with Cole when I wanted the other guys as well, and instead, without my permission, all of it was replaced by the swirling thoughts of all three of them.
Cole’s mouth.
Xavi’s hands.
Colton’s body.
Cole’s hold on me.
Xavi’s abs beneath my fingers.
Colton’s smirk as he teased me.
Further, still, to things I had to imagine — the way Cole’s lips and tongue would feel right where the two little prongs of the toy pressed against me, the way Xavi would grip me around my waist with nothing there to get in the way of skin on skin, the way Colton’s hands would feel tightening in my hair and pulling my head back.
The realization of how bad that was only sunk in when I’d shut it off almost an hour later, my thighs shaking, my head spinning from too many orgasms to drive everything else away.
I didn’t stand a chance at keeping them out of my mind now.
All three of them.