The Beginning

The air was thick with the scent of charred meat and summer heat, the low hum of conversation and the occasional pop of laughter weaving through the garden. It was supposed to be a casual neighbourhood get-together, but even as I stood there—drink in hand, the warmth of wine pooling in my veins—I could feel the weight of their stares.

James and Rob.

They were new to the neighbourhood, tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of men who seemed effortless in their confidence. They had introduced themselves weeks ago, polite but reserved, watching from a distance rather than fully stepping into the small-town camaraderie.

But tonight, something had changed.

I had caught them looking—more than once. Their eyes lingered just a second too long, flickering over me as if trying to solve a puzzle they hadn’t realised they wanted to piece together.

And perhaps I had dressed for the occasion.

The fitted jeans that hugged my hips just right. The loose silk shirt that slipped off one shoulder when I moved. The way the dim lighting caught the hint of lace beneath my clothes whenever I leaned forward. A small, unspoken invitation.

I had always known how to play the game.

And tonight, I had decided to see if they were willing to play, too.

The Conversation That Changed Everything

As the night stretched on and the drinks flowed, most of the other neighbours had already left, retreating to their homes, leaving just a handful of us behind. The air had cooled, but the lingering heat of the day still clung to my skin.

Somehow, I found myself in the kitchen with Rob.

It started as nothing—just idle conversation, the kind that doesn’t require effort. But then, out of nowhere, he asked the question.

“So, who’s the girl you live with?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “What?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “I’ve seen her. In the front room. Mornings. Evenings. Thought maybe she was your girlfriend or something.”

My stomach flipped.

He had seen me.

The realisation settled like a slow burn under my skin. My dress-up days, the moments I thought were private—he had been watching.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing, but then… something in me shifted.

I met his gaze, squared my shoulders, and, instead of denying it, I let the truth slip past my lips.

"That’s me," I said, voice steady.

Rob didn’t react the way I expected. Not shock. Not laughter. Just a slow, thoughtful nod.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked back outside.

I exhaled sharply, my heart still pounding.

But before I could fully process it, James found me.

The First Spark

I barely had time to recover before James slid up beside me, his presence filling the small space between us.

“So,” he said, swirling the last of his drink in his glass. “Rob tells me you have a little secret.”

I forced a smirk, feigning ignorance. “I have a lot of secrets.”

James chuckled. Low. Amused. His eyes traced the line of my exposed collarbone, the sliver of white lace barely visible beneath my shirt.

"Are you thinking of dressing up tonight?"

The challenge in his tone sent a spark of heat straight through me.

I tilted my head, letting my fingers trail absently along the edge of my shirt before meeting his gaze. “I already am.” Letting the white lace strap of my camisole show.

And for good measure, I let my movements be just a little too casual as I bent down, pretending to pick something up, making sure my lace-edged underwear peeked just above the waistline of my jeans.

James’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

I straightened slowly, catching the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on his glass tightened just slightly.

It was the moment everything shifted.

The Invitation

James smirked, shaking his head. Then, casually, too casually, he said, “You know, Rob and I were thinking… we’d like to spend some time alone with you.”

His words hung between us, the weight of them thick, unspoken.

My pulse hammered against my ribs.

To be honest, it felt a little too close to home. My instinct was to pull away, to play coy, to laugh it off.

But instead, I met his gaze. "And what exactly do you have in mind?"

James's smirk deepened. "Nothing you’re not already considering."

I exhaled, letting the moment stretch between us, my body betraying me with the slow, traitorous build of anticipation.

James leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “No pressure.”

Liar.

I knew it. He knew it.

Because the pressure was already there—a thick, undeniable force pulling me toward something dangerous. Something tempting.

Something inevitable.

And when I finally let out a slow breath and murmured, “Alright,” I knew, without a doubt—

I was about to cross a line I could never uncross.

The Next Morning

Sunlight bled through the curtains, golden and lazy. My body ached, a delicious reminder of the tangled night spent between them.

But something was off.

The air felt heavier—charged with something unsaid.

I stretched, shifting slightly, only to feel James’s arm tighten around me. His hold was possessive, almost too firm, as if staking a claim.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, but edged with something sharper.

Rob lay on my other side, propped up on one elbow, his gaze flicking between us. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.

James noticed.

I could feel the unspoken tension brewing between them.

Rob reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. “Didn’t take you for the type to fall asleep so easily after a night like that,” he muttered, his voice laced with something that wasn’t quite amusement.

James’s grip flexed. Just enough to make a point.

I smirked, tilting my head slightly, watching them both. “Guess I was just… satisfied,” I murmured, deliberately ambiguous, watching as jealousy flickered across their faces.

This was dangerous.

This was exhilarating.

And I could already feel the battle lines being drawn.

The Affair Begins…

James reached out first. Two nights later. A text—short, direct, no hesitation.

Can’t stop thinking about you. Come over. Just us this time.

And so I did.

The way he took me that night was different—possessive, demanding, as if he needed to erase any trace of Rob from my body.

Then, a week later, Rob found me.

A chance encounter at the grocery store. An invitation for drinks that turned into something far more illicit. He was softer than James—but no less insistent that this—whatever this was—belonged to him alone.

Neither of them knew.

Neither of them suspected.

And I?

I revelled in it—the thrill of their hunger, the intoxicating pull of their jealousy, the way they were both falling into a trap I hadn’t even meant to set.

This wasn’t just a fling.

This was the start of something far more dangerous…

And I was more than happy to let it play out.