Page 113 of Unexpected Heroine

“Hair pulling and hand necklaces. Blindfolds and cum shots.”

Stella chimes in, “Mutual masturbation.”

Freya nods animatedly. “You like to watch and be watched. You’re a rope bottom.”

Back to Stella. “You love spanking, paddling, toys, and bondage.”

A big chuckle out of Freya turns into another hiccup. She should lay off the sauce. “You let him record you having sex and banged him while you watched it back. You?—”

Stella flings her hand between us like she’s a traffic cop. “She did what?” Her jaw falls to her chest so dramatically that I worry she’s going to need to see a doctor to return it to its rightful state.

Oh yeah. I never told her about Netflix and Chill night.

Tomer and I had some damn good sex knowing it was being recorded. Mmm. And how he fingered me when we watched it back.

Dang. I’m getting worked up again.

“Lettie!” Stella grabs my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t get a chance because it happened right before... well, it was a week ago.”

The follow-up questions fill Stella’s mouth until she’s about to burst. Luckily, I’m saved by the front door opening and the smell of greasy food filling the air.

“We’re back,” Tomer announces, holding up two large bags.

“Yay!” I squeal in delight, clapping and bounding from the couch.

He’s safe. He’s back. And he brought food. The trifecta of excellence.

Kri’s boyfriend is behind Tomer, carrying a few bags of his own. Kri and Marley stick their heads in the doorway, brows raised in question.

I wave them inside since girl talk is over. “I’m so relieved you made it home safely, babe.” I glance at Freya and Stella. “Girls, it’s late-night pig out time.”

As I approach, I scan both men from head to toe. Neither looks any worse for the wear.

It doesn’t dawn on me until I’m about two steps away from them that I’m not startled or fearful of the other man’s presence in the house. Not one bit.

Hmm.

Perhaps it’s because of how hungry I am. Or maybe it’s knowing I have my friends with me. Whatever the cause of my burgeoning confidence doesn’t matter. It’s nice to almost feel normal.

My handsome man greets me with a chaste kiss. “You good, sugar?”

“Yep.” Wearing a genuine smile emanating from deep inside me, I grasp at a bag.

He holds them out of my reach. “Ah-ah-ah. I got it.”

As he brushes past me, I’m hit with a whiff of... campfire smoke.

Led by my nose, I trail behind him, sniffing as I go.

Yep. That’s smoke. What the hell?

While staying close to Tomer, I discreetly try to get a whiff of Shep. I don’t smell anything coming from him other than greasy hash browns.

Curiosity settles into my bones, but I quash it for now. Food first. Twenty questions later.

They’re called priorities. Look them up.

---