Chapter 54
fifty-four
Liana
The TV is on, but none of us are actually watching it.
It’s just noise.
Soft, flickering light filling the room while everything else settles into something quieter, something slower, something that feels almost… normal.
I’m stretched out across the couch, my head resting in Zach’s lap, my body angled across the cushions so my legs fall over Jackson’s thighs.
Zach’s fingers are in my hair, moving in slow, steady passes that make my eyes drift closed without me even meaning to let them.
It’s gentle.
Grounding.
Every stroke smoothing something inside me that I didn’t even realize was still tight.
Jackson’s hands are wrapped around my feet, thumbs pressing into the arches with careful pressure that has me melting further into the couch with every pass.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur, my voice soft, a little hazy.
He lets out a quiet laugh.
“Yeah?” he asks, glancing up at me. “That good, sweetheart?”
I let my head tilt back further into Zach’s hand, my lips curving faintly.
“It’s really good.”
Zach hums softly above me, his fingers shifting slightly, nails grazing my scalp before smoothing down again.
“Relax,” he murmurs. “Let your body settle.”
I do. God, I do.
I can feel Elijah at the other end of the couch. He’s not touching me. But he’s there.
Solid.
Present.
And that alone is enough to keep something in me steady.
Jackson’s thumbs press deeper into my foot, then drag slowly down toward my heel.
“We need to talk about names,” he says suddenly.
My eyes open slightly.
“Names?” I repeat.
“For the baby,” he says like it’s obvious. “We can’t just call it baby forever.”
I huff a quiet laugh.
“We don’t even know what we’re having yet.”
“It’s a girl,” he says immediately.
I lift my head just enough to look at him.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he insists, completely serious. “I just know.”
Zach chuckles softly.
“You’ve decided that already, have you?”
“Yeah,” Jackson says. “And I’m right.”
I shake my head, smiling faintly.
“Okay, then. What’s your very confident girl name?”
He doesn’t hesitate this time.
“Isla,” he says.
The name lands softly between us. Warm. Familiar. I blink slightly.
“That’s… actually really pretty.”
“Yeah,” he says, a little quieter now. “It fits.”
Zach hums.
“Isla works,” he agrees. “Simple. Strong without trying too hard.”
I glance up at him.
“You like it too?”
“I do,” he says, his fingers still moving slowly through my hair. “Feels right.”
Jackson looks smug.
“Of course it does.”
I smile faintly, letting the name roll through my mind again.
“Isla…” I murmur.
My chest tightens just slightly. In a good way.
“What about a middle name?” I ask.
Jackson shrugs.
“Something softer. Maybe Rose… or Mae.”
Zach tilts his head slightly.
“Isla Mae sounds nice,” he says. “Flows well.”
I nod slowly.
“It does.”
There’s a quiet pause before I glance back at Jackson.
“And if you’re wrong?” I ask. “And it’s a boy?”
He exhales like he’s being personally inconvenienced.
“It’s not a boy.”
“Jackson.”
“Fine,” he mutters. “If it is a boy…”
He thinks for a second.
“Ethan.”
Zach huffs quietly.
“You picked that too quickly.”
“It’s a good name,” Jackson says. “Solid. Not try-hard. Just… good.”
I shift slightly, considering it.
“Ethan’s nice,” I admit.
Zach’s hand stills briefly in my hair.
“Daniel,” he says after a moment.
Jackson glances up.
“Daniel?”
Zach nods.
“Strong. Grounded. It grows with him.”
That is very Zach. I smile faintly.
“Daniel’s really nice.”
There’s a quiet beat before my gaze drifts toward Elijah.
“What about you?” I ask softly.
He’s still for a moment.
Then... “I don’t care what we call the baby,” he says.
There’s no hesitation. No performance. Just truth.
“As long as they’re safe.”
The words settle deeper than everything else. Because that’s him. That’s where he is. Still. Always.
I swallow slightly, my hand drifting instinctively toward my stomach.
“They will be,” I say quietly.
His gaze flicks to me. There’s something in it. Something that softens, not all the way, but enough.
Jackson clears his throat lightly, like he’s pulling the mood back.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ve got options now.”
Zach’s fingers return to my hair, slower, more deliberate.
“Plenty of time to decide.”
I settle deeper into the couch, my body loose, warm, relaxed in a way I haven’t felt in what feels like forever.
Jackson’s hands shift. Subtly. Moving from my feet to my ankles, his grip still firm, still steady, but different now.
Slower.
More intentional.
His thumbs drag up over my calves, pressing into the muscle there. My breath shifts slightly. Just a little. Zach notices.
Of course he does.
His fingers tighten slightly in my hair before giving a slow, grounding pull.
A soft sound slips out of me before I can stop it. Jackson’s hands move higher. Over my knees. Then my thighs. My body reacts instantly. A small shift. A tightening. A warmth curling low in my stomach.
He glances up at me.
That look in his eyes, aware. Knowing.
“You okay there, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.
I swallow.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
Zach’s thumb presses into the back of my neck, slow, deliberate.
“You don’t sound okay,” he says softly.
Jackson’s fingers press into the inside of my thigh now, just enough to make my breath hitch.
“Getting a little restless?” he adds.
I shift again, unable to stop it this time. My body is already answering for me. Zach’s voice drops lower.
“Do you need something, baby?”
There’s no teasing in it now.
Just understanding.
I hesitate, just for a second, before I nod.
“Yes.”
The word is quiet. But it’s enough. Jackson’s grip tightens slightly. Zach’s hand stills at my neck, thumb pressing gently into my skin. The air shifts. The softness turning into something heavier. Something charged. Something inevitable.
The air in the room thickens the moment I nod.
Zach’s fingers tighten in my hair, a slow, grounding tug that makes my scalp tingle. Jackson’s hands slide higher up my thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh with deliberate pressure, spreading my legs just enough to make heat pool low in my belly.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Jackson murmurs, voice low and warm.
He pulls me gently from Zach’s lap and into his arms, settling me against his broad chest so my back rests against him.
Zach shifts closer on the couch, one arm sliding around my waist to hold me steady while Jackson’s hands start working my clothes off, slow, patient, like they have all the time in the world.
Zach peels my shirt up and over my head, his fingers brushing my skin as he goes, thumbs grazing the undersides of my breasts. Jackson tugs my pants down my legs, taking my underwear with them, the fabric dragging slowly over my hips and thighs until I’m completely bare between them.
Their hands never stop moving, Zach’s palms cupping my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples in firm, lazy strokes until they tighten into hard peaks and I arch with a soft whimper; Jackson’s fingers stroking up and down my inner thighs, teasing the sensitive skin but never quite touching where I need it most.
Jackson presses a kiss to my shoulder, then slides down the couch until he’s kneeling between my spread legs. He looks up at me, eyes dark with hunger, lips parted.
“Watch me, sweetheart,” he says softly.
He leans in and drags his tongue through my folds in one long, slow lick, from entrance to clit. The wet heat of it pulls a sharp gasp from me, my hips jerking. Zach’s arm tightens around my waist, holding me firmly against his chest.
“Easy, baby,” Zach murmurs right against my ear, his breath hot. “Just feel him. Look how wet you already are for us. So pretty and slick, dripping down onto Jackson’s tongue.”
Jackson hums in agreement, the vibration rolling straight through my core as he licks again, slower this time, broad and flat, circling my clit with deliberate pressure before sucking the swollen bud gently between his lips.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider so he can bury his face deeper.
The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on me fill the quiet room, slick, hungry licks and soft sucking noises that make my face burn.
I can’t look away from Elijah.
He’s still sitting at the far end of the couch, watching every second with dark, hooded eyes.
His hand has drifted to the front of his pants, rubbing himself slowly through the fabric, the outline of his thick cock clear and straining.
His jaw is tight, that possessive flicker flashing in his gaze, but beneath it I see raw hunger, his chest rising faster, lips parted as he watches Jackson’s tongue work me open.
Zach notices my slight tension. His hand slides up to cup one of my breasts fully, rolling the nipple between his fingers as he talks me through it, voice low and steady against my ear.
“He’s watching you, baby. Look at him. He’s so hard for you. See how his hand is moving on his cock? He likes seeing you like this, open, needy, letting us take care of you. Let go. Let Jackson make you feel good. Come on his tongue.”
Jackson’s tongue flicks faster over my clit, two thick fingers sliding deep inside me, curling and stroking that perfect spot while he sucks harder. The pressure builds slow and heavy, coaxed out of me by their combined touch. Zach keeps talking, filthy and calm.
“That’s it… feel how wet you are? You’re soaking Jackson’s face. He’s licking up every drop like he can’t get enough. Come for him, baby. Let him feel you squeeze around his fingers.”
The orgasm rolls through me in long, shuddering waves.
My back arches hard against his chest, a broken moan tearing from my throat as my walls clamp down around Jackson’s fingers, pulsing again and again.
Jackson doesn’t stop, licking and sucking through every spasm until the last tremor leaves me panting and limp against Zach’s arm.