Page 122 of Double or Nothing

“I want you in my cunt, Bryce,” Alice says, louder.

I strum her clit, just a little. I watch him swallow.

“Still pathetic,” I say. “Come on, Soul Girl. You want it, you ask for it properly. If you want those tight holes of yours stretched open, you’re gonna have to up your game here. Double or fucking nothing. Tell him. Mean it.”

I tease her just enough, playing her like a pro as I wait for the walls to tumble.

Oh, the way she looks at him. The fear of rejection raising its meek little head through the lust.

“Do it.” I push two fingers inside her. She clamps around me like a vice.

She grips the bedsheets, no doubt seeking confidence. As though it’s needed.

“I need you to fuck my cunt, Bryce. Please. Make me dirty with Jack. Stretch me open and make me a filthy little bitch. I need it so bad, I’ll beg for it. I’ll do whatever it takes, I swear. Just fuck my cunt. Fuck me!”

Bryce is already stripping as she speaks. His fingers are so desperate they fumble. Endearing.

But there’s a force underneath the surface. A dirty side of him waiting to burst free.

I’m going to make sure it goes off like an atom bomb.

She has her arms open for him as he approaches. She pulls him down on top of her, mouth hungry for kisses as she runs her polished fingers through his hair. It’s me who works the logistics as they make out like star-crossed lovers. I unclip her stockings and help her squirm from her panties. I break up their kiss enough to unzip her from her dress and set her free, but they’re straight back at it. Two infatuated souls kissing like Romeo and Juliet. Forbidden and out of control.

I feel it again, the snake of secrecy under the surface. The something. But I toss it aside and guide Bryce’s thick, dripping cock into her sweet pussy.

“Give her what she needs,” I say to him. “Make her fucking feel it.”

I’m impressed by the way he plunges right in, making her whimper and tense up when he slams to the balls. The thrusts of his hips are savage and determined, claiming that open hole like it’s Gollum’s golden ring.

And I’m going to be taking the other one.

What a fucking delight.

They’re well into the action when I grab the lube from my bedside drawer, seeking out a range of toys to get her worked up enough to take me. No doubt about it, from the way she’s panting at taking one cock, she’d be screaming the whole place down if I plunged right in with two.

I don’t know why I watch the pair of them for so long, standing to the side with my hard-on gripped in my fingers. I have no idea why I’m so transfixed by the tragic lovebirds that I stare over at them mute, my own body singing to the same tune.

I watch Bryce kiss Alice as his cock slides in and out of her slick, tight pussy, and for once in my life, I have nothing clever to say about it. No light hearted bullshit running rampant through my mind.

That should worry me. Usually, I can find a joke in anything. A funeral, a fight, a man losing fifty grand at roulette and pretending he meant to. But there is no joke here. Not when Bryce holds her face like he’s afraid she’ll vanish if he loosens his grip. Not when Alice clings to him like every year they lost is suddenly demanding to be regained.

They kiss and fuck like people who have been starving for a lifesaving meal. And Christ, it hurts to watch. It hurts in a way I don’t know what to do with. Because I should feel left out. I should feel pushed aside, jealous in some jovial, familiar way I can turn into a grin and drink through. But I don’t. Or not only that. What I feel is worse. Warmer. More dangerous.

I feel proud. I feel protective. I feel like I’ve dragged a match across the dark and now I’m standing here watching two people I care about catch fire.

Two people I care about.

That thought alone should be enough to kill my hard-on, but it doesn’t. It only makes me more determined to fulfil Alice’s dirty fantasies and give her the ride of her whole fucking life.

The lube is ready, and so are the toys, my dick at full volume and ready to play, but I’m not.

I stand there and let it hit me, every reckless, beautiful, inconvenient second of it. Because I did this. I pushed, and teased, and gambled with hearts that weren’t mine to win, and now I’m watching the prize land in both their laps. Only the truly terrifying thing is, I don’t want to leave the tangle of hearts. I still want them. Both of them. Together, apart, laughing, furious, undone, impossible. I want to be close enough to feel this heat and be stupid enough to believe it won’t burn me up along with them.

Bryce kisses her harder, circling his hips, and Alice groans in a helpless tone that goes straight through me. She’s given herself to him in entirety. She’ll give herself to me that way, too.

And I know, with absolute bloody certainty, that I’m in trouble. Not fun trouble. Not casino trouble. Not the kind I can charm, bluff, or buy my way out of. Real trouble. The kind with names. Bryce. Alice. Soul Girl and BT, tangled together in front of me, tearing down walls I built up with solid stone.

God help me. Despite all that, I don’t want them to stop.