Page 79 of Gym With Benefits

The view of Dane’s face offered a masterclass in executive restraint. His jaw locked into a hard line, his chest expanding as he fought the instinct to thrust too suddenly or too hard back there, treating her tight anatomy with careful precision.

"You're doing so good, Jess," I murmured, my hand leaving the hook for a second to brush the damp, sweat-soaked hair away from her eyes. My lips peppered her jawline with soft, encouraging kisses as my hips picked up a slow, driving cadence."Just breathe through the stretch. Take it all. You can handle both of us."

"Brock, it's too much," she panted, though her hips bucked against Dane’s pelvis in an automatic demand for more.

"You got this, Jess. Open up for me," I praised her, my thrusts deepening until my pubic bone knocked hard against her clit, the brutal friction driving her over the edge.

A massive orgasm tore through her, her internal muscles clamping down around my shaft with a fierce, suffocating tightness that made it nearly impossible to move inside her. Because of my size, the vice-like grip of her walls threatened to end my restraint right then and there. Jess came multiple times like that, stretched to her absolute limits, her voice dissolving into a string of incoherent, messy praise as both of our lengths worked her senseless.

The intense, milking contractions finally snapped Dane's control. His body went rigid against her back, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of her thighs as he emptied his load inside her ass in thick, pulsing spurts.

"Fill me up, Dane. Stick it deep," Jess rambled, her head tossing from side to side in a delirium of pleasure.

The filthy encouragement brought me right to my own precipice. I drove in hard as ever, past the clenching resistance of her walls, burying my length to the absolute root to blow my load deep in her pussy.

The heat inside the enclosure reached a sweltering peak as our breathing slowed. Trickles of cum—mine, hers, Dane's—coated my thighs and dripped onto the cedar slats below. Dane pulled out with a wet sound, stumbling back a step to sit heavily on the wooden bench, out of breath, his hand resting on his half-limp dick as it continued to dribble semen onto his thigh.

I lifted Jess off my shaft slowly, giving her body time to contract back to its normal shape, and set her down directly onto Dane’s lap.

She was a complete, beautiful mess. She sank back into his broad frame, her head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as her lungs fought for stability. Still, even though she was entirely fucked out, her fingers trailed down through the condensation to gently fondle my cock, keeping me set close to her hip.

My teeth clenched against the fire of her touch, her fingers grazing over the sensitive skin of my shaft and inner thighs. She gave a soft, satisfied hum. Dane’s arms looped around her waist, his thumb stroking her damp cheek while my hand rubbed the tense muscles of her calf, the two of us working together to help her come down from the high.

The silence settled over the cedar room, broken only by the steady hiss of the vapor.

Jess blinked her eyes open, a sharp, cynical little glint returning to her dark pupils as she looked between the two of us. "I made up my mind about the wedding. I know who I'm taking."

33

Jess

The metal teeth of the zipper closed with a smooth, effortless glide that lacked the usual morning wrestling match. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in a black sports bra and faded denim, a slow pivot to the left confirmed the anomaly. These specific jeans spent the last twenty-four months buried at the bottom of the drawer, designated as the official monument to my pre-grad-school metabolism.

My palms coasted down over my hips, mapping the unfamiliar play in the fabric. The denim sat low on my hip bones, leaving a significant, visible gap around my middle where the waistband used to bite into my skin. A genuine smile crept onto my lips, cutting through the usual morning cynicism.

"Jess! Get in here!" David's voice echoed down the short hallway from his bedroom, full of malicious glee. "Amberleigh just posted her rehearsal dinner seating chart and the drama is delicious. Come help me dissect the bridesmaid hierarchy."

Ordinarily, a summons to dissect Amberleigh’s curated digital misery functioned as my oxygen. Today, the urge simply failed to materialize.

The door to his bedroom swung open with a soft click as my thumbs hooked into the denim waistband. A firm tug pulled therigid cotton three inches away from my stomach, exposing the hollow space below my belly button. "Look at this, Dave."

David looked up from his pillows, his phone hovering inches from his nose. His eyes widened as his gaze dropped to the loose denim. A slow, theatrical grin split his face. "Well, well. Look who finally reaped the benefits of all that extra cardio. Turns out high-intensity interval training has excellent side effects."

I snorted a laugh. The physical transformation staring back at me from his vanity mirror ran much deeper than a smaller waistline. The girl who used to hide behind oversized sweaters and defensive barbs felt miles away, replaced by a woman who knew exactly what her body could do, and exactly how much power she held over three men who built their lives around strength.

David patted the edge of his mattress, his thumb already scrolling through Instagram. "Come on, sit. What better way to celebrate the success of our tactical restructuring than to troll Amberbitch? She put her cousin on the table near the kitchen door. The pettiness is unmatched."

"Pass," the word left my mouth before my brain could process the refusal. The surprise on David's face mirrored the sudden realization in my own chest. Amberleigh’s digital theatre just felt incredibly small now. "To my own shock, I find myself lacking the venom required for a takedown. I'd much rather you whip up a batch of those fudgy brownies with the flaky salt on top."

David stared at me for a beat, his jaw dropping in mock offense before he let out a dramatic sigh. "Look at you, being the bigger person. Figuratively, of course, since you're clearly on your way to being more ripped than anyone in the tri-state area." He tossed his phone onto the duvet and slid out of bed, his slippers hitting the hardwood with a soft slap. "But you also have the bestideas on a Saturday morning. Make yourself respectable while I get the butter melting."

The rich, bitter aroma of melting dark chocolate filled the small kitchen as the electric beaters whined against the glass mixing bowl. David stood by the counter in his silk pajamas, his posture full of an easy, domestic focus as he dumped a measuring cup of brown sugar straight into the vortex.

Leaning against the refrigerator door, the cool plastic felt grounding against my bare lower back. This plain old hanging out routine functioned as our anchor, a quiet pocket of normalcy before the evening’s logistics claimed the calendar. Tonight meant a high-stakes double date. David with the guy he spent two weeks going gaga over, and me with the three-man security detail currently occupying my entire psychological landscape.

"I'll help you pick an outfit once we finish the batter," David announced over the din of the mixer, his eyes tracking the glossy ripples of chocolate. "We need something that says 'I have options' but keeps the upper hand."

"It's okay. I already have something in mind."