Their bed was already warm when I climbed into it.
Mom had left at 5:40. I’d heard the front door, the car, the quiet that followed. I hadn’t locked anything. I hadn’t cleaned up. I’d walked naked through the house at dawn, their c*m from the night before still drying on my thighs, and crawled into the center of their bed exactly the way Mateo had ordered—on my back, knees bent, legs open. The sheets smelled like them. My phone sat on their nightstand. Mom had texted that the double might turn into a triple if the floor stayed short. She wouldn’t be home until late. Maybe not until tomorrow.
The front door opened at 6:17.
Boots in the hallway. Low voices. Julian stepped into the bedroom first, already pulling his shirt off. Mateo filled the doorway behind him, eyes dropping straight bet
