Dean’s hand, huge and hot, slips onto my thigh as he asks if there are plans for later and it stays there, his thumb rubbing tiny circles against the sheer fabric of my stockings like an invitation. This sudden intimacy could make me clam up, but not here. I shift my legs a little on the leather seat and turn to Alex.
“I’m free if you are.”
His arm rests across the back of the seat and he touches the nape of my neck lightly. He says he’s sure he can think of a few things for the three of us to do. His voice is soft but steady and low, commanding.
Something passes between us, unspoken, electric and singular. Alex watches me hungrily.
Dean’s hand slides higher to the edge of my dress and he puts his lips to my ear, asks if we should stop wasting time and get out of here because he has a hotel room, if I want. His breath still ghosts over my cheek when Alex’s fingers spread up through my hair and a shiver flutters over my skin, down my spine to my fingertips. I feel eagerly and idyllically selfish, their equal and obvious desire filling me with light-headed pleasure. The decision is not a difficult one.