Backstage Heat

Lena, so that was her name, didn"t take her eyes off Jack. “I'm just honest.” She reached out, her fingers brushing the back of his hand where it rested on the pillar. Her touch was warm, deliberate. “What's your name, sweetheart?”

“Jack.”

“Jack,” she repeated, like she was tasting it. “Strong name. Strong hands, too, I bet.” Her gaze dropped to his fingers, then lower, to the obvious bulge straining against his pants. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at her lips. “Very strong.”

The blonde, he needed her name, shifted beside Lena, her breath hitching when his eyes flicked to her. She was biting her lip again, her chest rising and falling a little faster now. “I’m Sophie,” she said softly, her voice like honeyed whiskey. “And Lena's right. You do look strong.”

Jack set his glass down on the nearest crate, the ice rattling. The way Sophie’s gaze tracked the movement, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips again, she was killing him. “You two always go forward with strangers?”

Lena's fingers trailed up his arm, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. “Only the interesting ones.” She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “And you, Jack, are very interesting.”

Sophie stepped closer, her body brushing against his side. The heat of her was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume, something floral, sweet, like jasmine and peaches, mixing with Lena's darker, spicier scent. “We were just heading to the afterparty,” she murmured, her hand resting on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “You should come with us.”

Jack’s pulse hammered in his throat. The way they were looking at him, touching him, was enough to make his cock ache. Lena’s hand slid down his arm, her fingers intertwining with his, while Sophie"s palm flattened against his abdomen, her touch feather-light but possessive. “What do you say, Jack?” Lena whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You're gonna be a good boy and let us take care of you tonight?”

His breath hitched as Sophie’s hand drifted lower, her fingertips grazing the waistband of his pants. “Or,” she breathed, her eyes dark with promise, “we could skip the party entirely.”

The suggestion hung between them, thick and heavy. Lena's tongue traced the rim of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? You wanna play with us?”

Jack's hands found their hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh above Lena's leather pants, the silky fabric of Sophie’s dress. The way they melted into his touch, the way their breaths hitched in unison. He didn"t need to think twice. “Lead the way, ladies.”

Lena's laugh was dark, triumphant. She turned, her ass brushing against his cock as she tugged him forward, her fingers still laced with his. Sophie pressed against his other side, her breast grazing his arm with every step, her nipple already hard beneath the thin fabric of her dress. They guided him down the dimly lit hallway, past the hum of distant voices, the thud of music vibrating through the walls. The air grew heavier with every step, the promise of what was coming coiling tight in his gut.

When they reached a door marked private, Lena pushed it open without hesitation. The room inside was small, barely more than a storage closet repurposed for quick, desperate encounters with soundproofed walls, a single flickering bulb overhead, a narrow couch shoved against one wall. The door clicked shut behind them, the lock sliding into place with a finality that made Jack’s pulse spike.

Sophie’s back pressed against the door, her chest rising and falling as she looked at him, her lips parted.