Page 78 of Filled

“Interesting week.” She picks at a loose thread on the cuff of my hoodie—the gray one she’s claimed without asking. “He’s coming apart, but not the way you’d think.”

“I noticed.”

“We all noticed,” Dante says. He pulls her closer, fits his chin on top of her head. “He won’t look any of us in the eye anymore. He left the locker room without showering today.”

“He got hard during mount with me this morning.” She says it flat, like she’s reporting a weight cut. Then her voice drops, goes rougher: “And I ground myself on him. Felt every inch of him through our shorts. Told him how wet he made me.”

The room goes absolutely still.

Eli’s hand tightens on her ankle. Dante’s fingers dig into her hip. I feel my dick start to fill.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.”

“He didn’t panic. Didn’t apologize.” Her eyes are bright now, remembering. “He groaned. His hands went to my hips and he looked at me like he wanted to devour me right there on the mats.”

“Fuck,” I breathe.

“Then he got control of himself. Locked it down. Finished the drill like nothing happened.” She shifts on the couch, and I can see the flush climbing her throat. “But I saw it. That split second where he wanted to just take what he wanted. Before the guilt kicked in.”

Eli’s jaw works. When he speaks, his voice is strained: “You’re playing with fire, princess.”

“I know.”

“He’s twenty-five years old, fighting everything he’s been taught to believe, and you just showed him you want him back.”

“I know, Daddy.”

“He’s going to obsess over it. He’s going to touch himself thinking about you. He’s going to fight himself.”

“Good.” Her chin comes up. “Let him fight. Let him want it so badly he can’t pretend anymore. Then I’ll catch him.”

Dante’s hand slides from her hip to her thigh, squeezes once. “You’re going to seduce him.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“End of the week. Friday night. I’ll invite him to my place. Just him and me.”

“And after you fuck him?” Dante’s tone is careful, neutral. “What then?”

“Then I tell him the truth. About all of us. About what he could have if he stopped denying how he feels.”

I’m grinning before she finishes the sentence. I can’t help it.

“I fucking love it.”

“Of course you do.” Dante huffs a laugh. “You’d love anything that ends with Brady in our bed.”

“Damn right.” I shift on the couch, adjusting myself. “But sweetheart, you telling me you’ve been grinding on him during drills and I missed it?”

“You were busy with Dante.”

“Could’ve watched that and watched you torture Brady at the same time. That’s my favorite kind of multitasking.”

She laughs, but it’s breathless. “Next time.”

“He’ll spiral,” Dante says, serious again. “Sweetheart, listen to me. After you tell him, he’s going to feel like you used the sex to manipulate him. He’ll hate himself for wanting it. He’ll question you for offering. He’ll be angry at the rest of us for being part of it.”