Chike’s words hung in the air like smoke. “Then let’s give him a show.”

Zara pulled back from the kiss, her lips swollen, eyes glassy with lust. She glanced at me—searching my face for something. 

Permission? Reassurance? 

I don’t know what she saw, but she smiled slowly and turned back to him.

Chike stood up, towering over her even as she rose to meet him. His hands went to the hem of her red dress, lifting it inch by inch, exposing her thighs, then the lace panties underneath. He peeled it off over her head, tossed it aside. She stood there in just a bra and panties—black lace that contrasted...