CHAPTER 3: FUCKING THE BRAT

KIM’S POVIf I thought one night with them would get them out of my system, I was a fucking idiot.

The next day, sitting in the library, my brain was pure static.

My pussy was still throbbing, a sore, delicious reminder of how Mason had stretched me open, how Reece had filled my mouth, how Joel’s big hands had left bruises on my hips.

Every time I shifted in the stupid leather chair, a little spark of memory would zing through me.

I was trying to read about macroeconomic theory, but all I could see was the possessive, hungry look in their eyes.

Ours.

The...