The energy in the room was like molasses—slow, thick, and sweet with anticipation. Mark was still kneeling. James had stepped back just slightly, still letting Mark’s hand rest against him, still letting the presence of his size loom between them all like a quiet truth.
Jenna sat on the couch, crossing her legs, sipping her whiskey. She looked relaxed. Powerful. Glowing in a way Mark hadn’t seen in years. Not because James was better. But because she was finally free to enjoy more.
“You ready for me now?” she asked James, her voice like velvet wrapped around iron.
James looked at her, that same easy smile on his face. “I’ve been ready.”
Mark looked at Alyssa, who was curled into the armchair next to him, legs tucked beneath her, swirling the ice in her glass. She caught his glance and gave a soft smile.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted in that moment—maybe just some touch, some invitation to share this moment with her too. Maybe some sense that he was more than just the lesser man in the room.…
