Page 115 of Kentrell

Her confession knocked me back to yesterday—inside Kentrell’s penthouse.

The way he looked at me after he let me taste myself off his fingers.

The way he said,“Yeah, that shit taste good, huh?”

So why was I so bent out of shape about Mars and Stacia?

I shifted my weight to the other foot, suddenly restless.

No.

Wait.

What am I even thinking?

These are mybest friends.My girls. My day ones.

I don’t want to know what any of them taste like!

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the images from earlier, but they were etched in my brain now—vivid, bold,moist.

Ugh—nope.

I stood up straighter, brushing my hands down my thighs as if that could wipe the whole scene from memory.

Kentrell? He could do whatever he wanted with my body, and I welcomed it.Invitedit. That wasdifferent.

But Mars and Stacia?

That wasthem.

To each other.

And somehow... it still shook me.

“Okay,stop!” I yelped, throwing up both hands like I was calling a timeout in a basketball game.

Everyone burst into laughter, and even Mars chuckled as she eased off the explicitness.

“I don’t need to hearthatpart,” I muttered, my ears burning.

“I’m not trying to be nasty,” Mars said, a playful glint still dancing in her eyes, “but I’ve always known what I like.”

Her voice softened as her gaze met mine—just for a beat. A subtle plea for understanding shimmered behind the mischief.

“Stacia was there when I needed to explore. To figure myself out. To dive deeper into who I am.”

Her words landed with more weight than I expected, sinking into my chest like an anchor. I hadn’t seen it before. The signs. The shift. Had I missed all of it? How long had Mars been carrying this?

I didn’t know what happens when your sexuality bends and reshapes itself outside the norm. But clearly, Mars had beenfeeling different.And Stacia—well, Stacia opened her legs and her mind.

“And it doesn’t hurt that she got that good-good,” Mars added, flashing a wicked grin and tossing a wink toward Stacia, who turned a shade of pink I didn’t know existed on her skin tone.

“Mars!” I groaned, giving her a pointedstop-it-right-nowglare.

“I’m serious, Zoe,” she said, suddenly calm again. “I’m content. With Stacia. And whoever else I decide to mess with.”

“But what about Shemar?”

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