Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

I ran my hand around her back, finding her T-shirt already pulled up a little and Will’s hand tucked up inside it, not rubbing but clutching at her warmth.

“Whatever is after you is failing,” I told him. “You’re not fucked. You’re the strongest of us all, because you’ve survived the most.”

I failed to destroy him. Miles Anderson failed. Two-and-a-half years in prison failed.

And that bitch who treated him like garbage in high school and still rented space in his head would fail, too.

I rubbed Winter’s back, and he began caressing her with his thumb.

Her voice and the water lulled us into relaxation, everything quiet and warm and feeling so good, I just wanted more of it. We kneaded her skin slowly, but my hand started rubbing her back harder and more demanding as I chased the hunger for contact.

I drifted down to her ass. I needed to feel what was mine. Feel everything that was mine right here.

“We’ve all been through some shit,” Will said.

“Too much shit,” I added.

And nothing felt so good as to hold nearly everything I cared most about in the world right here.

Will and I stroked her skin, more demanding as our breathing grew more labored again, and she pulled her head up—or tried to—but it just hung, dipping into Will’s chest as she arched into our touch.

“You guys,” she begged.

But she didn’t get any more words out.

Will peeled her shirt off over her head, leaving her in her bra, and I cupped her face, caressing it. She laid her head back down, us touching her—her arms, her neck, her back.

She trailed her fingers up Will’s arms, and I felt him let out a sigh and relax into me more as her hand left him and found my arm, her touch drifting down the length.

We became a web of arms and hands, our hands on her and hers on us, returning the affection as Will traded one frenzy for another, and the spray of the water drowned out the world outside.

She arched up, holding Will’s face, but kissing me, long and slow, teasing me with that tongue, and no sound filled the shower except for the breath between us.

Holding her face with one hand, I gripped her ass with the other and nudged her up into me, forgetting Will was there. Instead, she rubbed up on him, and he let out a breathy growl as their groins met and the friction got him turned on.

Winter froze, her lips layered with mine as she seemed shocked at first, but then a whimper escaped.

I watched her, feeling her body in my hands, and then I kissed her, going at each other as my heart pounded and my groin charged, hot and ready.

I had everything right here. Everything. I hadn’t let them go. They were here. I fisted her hair. Mine.

I moved her on him again, sucking and biting her lips as his mouth came down on her neck, and he wrapped his arms around her like she was all he had to hold onto, and all three of us were a mess of lips and hands, biting and grabbing.

Will took her bra-covered breast and sucked it into his mouth through the fabric, while she rolled her hips on him, deep and urgent, fucking him through his jeans.

He gripped her hips, sucking in air through his teeth as he helped her move.

“Don’t make her stop,” he gritted out. “Don’t stop.”

She planted a hand on the wall behind me, held my face with the other as we kissed, and dry-fucked him.

But then she whimpered and pulled away, climbing off him and rising to her feet all of a sudden.

What…

My blood chilled, and Will couldn’t catch his breath, both of us painfully hard and wanting her so badly.

Shit, what did I do? Was she scared?