And I know that he knows I want him to kiss me. That’s why he’s not doing it. He’s driving me crazy.“I think we should stop, Quinnie,” he wh...spers. He stops grinding and looks down at me.“We can’t.”“Owen loves you,” he says. He lets go of my wrists and we stare at each other for several seconds, neither of us saying a word.“You can’t stop,” I say.“I have to.”“You can’t.”“Quinnie, listen--”“I love you, James. I love you.” The words spill out of me and I fucking mean them. “I don’t love him. I. It seemed we all just needed a little break, and the guys were wandering around, reaching for a cold beer or a refreshing Gatorade, relaxing and hopefully replenishing their fluids.For the moment we had a very subdued, thoroughly pleasured group, just taking a breath and contemplating a superb evening.Jack interrupted the quiet celebration by loudly asking, “Alright, who wants to see the final score for… let’s call it - Slut of the Night - prize?”There was a general murmur of acceptance, then. More

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