Page 235 of Double or Nothing

He accepts that.

A few minutes later, she looks at me.

I know what she’s doing.

Memorising. Living in the moment for everything it’s worth.

My throat tightens.

I raise her foot and press my lips to her ankle.

She closes her eyes. Jack’s hand stills in her hair.

Then he looks at me.

There’s no performance in his expression. Only an understanding that frightens me.

We’re all doing the same thing. Storing details we may have to live without.

Alice reaches up and takes Jack’s free hand. Then she stretches towards me.

I bend close enough for her to catch mine. Three hands together. Holding tight.

For several minutes, none of us moves.

The invisible clock keeps on ticking.

The afternoon moves towards evening.

None of us is hungry. None of us wants champagne.

None of us wants to celebrate the fact that this is the end of an era.

The idea of De Chante makes me feel sick. All I want is them. Alice and Jack. The three of us together.

The sentiment of touch takes on another tone. What was gentle and soft, becomes needy. Angry. The idea of this being taken away from us makes my guts twist.

I grab hold of Alice and pull her up onto my lap, tangling my fingers in her hair as I kiss her with everything I have. Everything I want to say. She breathes into me with desperation, grinding herself against my crotch like there’s no tomorrow, which sadly is true. And then comes Jack, grappling for a taste of Alice’s mouth along with mine.

He shrugs off his dressing gown, and Alice pulls his shirt up and over her head, pressing her beautiful tits to his ripped chest as she shifts from my lap to his.

His cock is already waiting. She lowers herself onto him in one, the pleasure etched on her face as she moans.

I shrug off my bathrobe and take off my boxers, so used to this instinctive setup now that I shunt them, shove them, moving them into position so that Jack is on his back with Alice still riding him, groaning as she raises herself up and down.

I want her ass.

I want those beautiful peachy ass cheeks spread wide, so I can see him swallowed up inside her.

I spit on my fingers and tease her asshole, getting her ready to take me, but she tips her head back and moans.

“No, Bryce, please… not there.”

It takes me a moment to register what she’s saying. What she’s asking for.

“I want the memory to last,” she says. “I want to feel it, all the way through tomorrow. I want to be sitting at that dinner table still feeling it.”

“We can do that,” Jack says. “We’ll stretch you so bad, Soul Girl, that you’ll be feeling it all day.”