Brooke didn’t knock the second night.
I heard the key Malik had given her turn in the lock at 7:58. I was already on the couch again, naked this time, legs open the way she’d told me to wait. Malik sat in the armchair across from me, c**k out, stroking slow while he watched the shine between my thighs. We hadn’t touched each other all day. He’d said he wanted me desperate. It had worked. My c**t was swollen. Every shift of my hips left a wet spot on the cushion.
Brooke stepped inside, locked the door, and set a small black bag on the coffee table. She was in the same style of dress, tighter. Her eyes moved over me, then to Malik.
“Good,” she said. “You listened.”
She crossed the room, pushed my knees wider, and ran two fingers through me without warning. They came away soaked. She push
