Derek’s second text came through at 8:17.
Still delayed. Might not make it out till morning. Reid still good to use the gym?
I stared at the message with my shorts already off and Reid’s afternoon load plugged inside me. The toy was one I’d found in the drawer Derek used for client bands. It held everything in. Every time I shifted, more wetness leaked around the base and onto the mat I’d just wiped down. I typed back with steady fingers.
He’s fine. I’ll let him in.
The reply from Reid came thirty seconds later.
Nine. Mat. Plug out. I’m not using a condom. And I’m not pulling out.
I was on my hands and knees when the door code beeped at 9:03. Reid locked it behind him, dropped his bag, and looked at me—sports bra, nothing else, plug seated, thighs already slick. He didn’t speak. He c
