Chapter Twenty-Two

TRINITY

So there we were—wrapped around each other on the kitchen countertop. Stephen was growling like a feral beast, balls-deep inside me, his hands around my throat, while I screamed his name with my legs slung high over his shoulders. We were a tangled mess of sweat and Nutella, our bodies slick and wild.

And then … we heard it.

The unmistakable sound of voices. Male voices.

Right as our bodies locked together, trembling through a shared orgasm that nearly shattered me—in walked Mike, Chad, and Dave.

There was no time to move, no way to make it better. We were caught. Exposed. The door hadn’t even fully closed behind them, and there we were: mid-climax, still connected, still cuming—their mouths slack, eyes wide, shock frozen on their faces like they’d just walked into a live porn set.

I buried my face in Stephen’s chest in horror, trying to hide. His strong arms wrapped around me, shielding what he could of my bare, trembling body. But there was no undoing it.

“~Out!~” he bellowed, the snarl in his voice making all three of them flinch. “~Get the fuck out—Now!~”

Like startled children, they snapped out of their trance and bolted—feet stumbling over each other; the door slamming shut behind them.

Silence.

Then…

Oh god. I felt it.

Stephen flexed inside me.

“Did you just—” I gasped, lifting my face from his chest.

His eyes met mine—still dark, still blown wide with lust—but now laced with mischief.

Before we could help it, we both erupted into hysterical laughter.

“Holy fuck!” I wheezed between giggles. “That did not just happen.”

Stephen was trying to keep a straight face, but the grin broke through, wide and shameless.

“Which part?” he said, eyes glinting. “The part where I just fucked the soul out of you? Or the part where my boys walked in while your feet were being used as ear warmers?”

I slapped his chest, still laughing, but absolutely mortified. “You’re an asshole!”

“Guilty,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

Ever the gentleman—despite his caveman ways—he grabbed the towel he’d discarded earlier, wrapped it around me, and lifted me effortlessly from the counter.

“Come on, beautiful,” he said softly, “let’s go shower.”

He carried me up the stairs like I was weightless, and not five minutes later, the heat of the water cascading over us turned into another session. My legs were wrapped around his waist as he pinned me against the tile, thrusting into me with primal urgency. I couldn’t get enough of this man. Every touch, every kiss, every possessive growl—he made me feel like the only woman in the world.

Eventually, we managed to ~actually~ shower, cleaned up the evidence of our kitchen misadventure, and got dressed—Stephen in low-slung sweatpants and nothing else, looking every bit the sex god he was. I tugged on my pyjamas and robe, still feeling the aftershocks in my thighs as we headed back downstairs.

The kitchen looked like a chocolate crime scene.

While I flicked on the kettle, Stephen helped me finish wiping down the benches, his smirk not leaving his face once. After a quick cleanup, he disappeared outside to roll a joint on the patio.

Just as I finished pouring the drinks, I heard the front door open and familiar voices approach. Mia and Clint strolled in, both glowing with laughter and good vibes.

“Hey gorgeous,” Mia greeted, pulling me into a warm hug and kissing my cheek. “Did you have a good night?”

I bit my lip and nodded with a barely suppressed smile. “It was... eventful.”

Clint followed behind, eyes scanning the room. “Hey, Trin. Where’s the boss man?”

“Out the back, rolling up,” I said, gesturing to the patio with my chin.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Clint grinned. “Any chance those mugs are for all of us?” He pointed at the hot chocolates I’d just made.

“Of course,” I replied, handing him two.

“I’ll be out in a sec, babe,” Mia told Clint. “Let me give Trin a hand and we’ll join you.”

Clint leaned down, kissed her temple, and strolled out to the patio. From our spot in the kitchen, we had a perfect line of sight through the windowpanes. I watched as he took a seat across from Stephen, who handed him the joint.

Not two minutes later, Clint threw his head back and burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. My stomach sank.

I knew exactly what they were talking about.

As if he could feel me watching, Clint suddenly turned toward the kitchen and caught my eye through the glass.

Our gazes locked.

My cheeks flamed.

Yup. They were definitely talking about the Nutella incident.

Clint yelled from outside, “Hurry your arses up! Trinity, I need to hear this story in full... now!” The laughter that followed made it clear—he was loving every second of this.

“Are you serious, Stephen?” I turned to him, mortified, hoping—praying—he hadn’t spilled the full details. But deep down, I already knew the truth.

He gave me that crooked grin I loved and shrugged. “Sorry, babe... admit it. It’s too funny ~not~ to share…”

I glared at him, mouthing a string of expletives under my breath just as Clint chimed in, “I want the whole story, Trin!”

Mia’s voice broke in then, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, someone needs to tell me what is going on?” She looked around the group, trying to piece together the chaos.

Of course, foghorn Clint answered for everyone.

“Stephen got caught balls deep in your girl right there,” he declared proudly, pointing directly at me. “By all the lads.”

Mia gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. “Clint!”

She looked from Stephen to me, then back to Clint—who was doubled over now, tears of laughter streaming down his face. Eventually, even Mia cracked up laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. She knew exactly the kind of men we were dealing with.

Still burning with embarrassment, I walked outside with Mia, carrying the hot chocolates as the guys sparked up another joint. Mia bounced effortlessly into Clint’s lap like they were made for each other, and I slid into the chair beside Stephen.

Or at least, I tried to.

Before I could get settled, Stephen pulled me into his lap, one strong arm locking tight around my waist. I curled into him, my head resting against his shoulder, and when he held the joint up for me, I leaned in, taking a long, relaxing draw.

Once we were all a little lit and giggly, the kitchen incident came back into conversation—again.

So there we were, sharing with two of our closest friends the mortifying details of how we were caught, mid-orgasm, by Mike, Chad, and Dave. Clint was in full hysterics, literal tears rolling down his face, and even Mia was nearly breathless with laughter—though at least she looked like she felt some sympathy for my embarrassment.

That was … until Stephen added, “The worst part was, we had to stay like that. If I had pulled out then, I would’ve sprayed my load everywhere.”

Clint howled so hard I thought he might pass out, slapping his knee and wheezing. “Oh my fuck, I can’t breathe!” and that was it. Even Mia and I lost it, laughing until our stomachs ached.

Somewhere throughout the night, the other three finally emerged and joined us on the patio. They couldn’t apologise enough for earlier—and to be fair, I knew it had been an accident. But Clint, of course, saw it as an opportunity to milk every last detail from the story, and Stephen? He didn’t exactly hold back.

The hours slipped by in a haze of laughter, teasing, and a little too much weed. Eventually, the warmth of Stephen’s body behind me and the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled me into sleep.

I stirred only when I felt him carrying me to bed, his muscular arms lifting me with ease before gently laying me down onto soft sheets. Through half-closed eyes, I caught the glowing red numbers of the clock: 1:00 AM.

“Go back to sleep, doll,” he whispered, pulling off his shirt and sliding in behind me. His body curved against mine like it had always belonged there.

He wrapped me up in his arms, kissed my temple softly, and murmured, “I love you, little momma. Sweet dreams.”

I clutched his arms tighter, my heart full, and drifted off once more—feeling completely safe, completely his.