CHAPTER 3: f*****g THE BRAT
KIM’S POV
If I thought one night with them would get them out of my system, I was a f*****g i***t.
The next day, sitting in the library, my brain was pure static.
My p***y 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 word was a brand. I should have been scared. Ashamed. My boyfriend, Mark, had texted me three times this morning.
All I’d sent back was a thumbs-up emoji. The thought of his fumbling, polite hands o
