22. Matthew

Chapter 22

Matthew

T he address Dylan gave me sits in my GPS and as I follow the directions, a knot forms in my stomach. I've been enjoying our time together, just the two of us. She's amazing—funny, smart, beautiful. But now that Ford and Jacob are here, I can't shake the nervous feeling that she might pull away. It's been good—more than good—but the dynamic is bound to change with them on campus full-time. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for that. We've been getting to know each other on a deeper level this summer, and part of me wonders if that's about to unravel now that they're around.

As I turn the corner, my headlights land on a large house with a truck and U-Haul out front. This wasn't what I expected when Dylan texted me the address. That must be them, but there's no sign of life, except a few lights on, and no noise. I cut the engine and step out, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings as I walk toward the front door.

I knock, rapping my knuckles against the heavy wood, ready to see my girl. No answer. I knock again, louder this time—still nothing. I step back, checking my phone against the address on the house just to be sure I'm at the right place.

A strange prickle creeps up the back of my neck. The house is still and quiet. I try the door handle, expecting it to be locked, but it turns easily in my hand. The door swings open and I step inside.

"Dylan? Ford? Jacob?" I call, my voice cutting through the silence. The house is spacious and beautifully decorated, with tall windows.

No one answers.

The wood floors echo with each step I take as I move deeper into the house, admiring the grand foyer, the high ceilings, and the warm, inviting colors of the walls. Everything looks perfect, but the silence is weirding me out.

Where are they?

A faint sound from upstairs catches my attention. My heart starts to beat a little faster as I follow the noise.

"Dylan?" I try again.

Nothing.

What's going on? Why didn't anyone answer me?

At the top of the stairs, the sounds become clearer—low voices… and moans.

My pulse quickens, but it's not anger or confusion. There's a different energy stirring inside me, something I can't quite name yet. The door to one of the bedrooms is slightly open, shadows moving behind it. I hesitate, unsure if I should be here.

But curiosity pulls me forward. I push the door open a little wider.

And there she is. Dylan.

She's on the bed, Ford and Jacob entwined with her, their bodies moving together in a way that is primal and mesmerizing. My breath catches in my throat. I wasn't expecting this, but it doesn't anger me. It hits me differently—I want that; I want her. I can't look away.

Dylan's head is tilted back, her lips parted in a soft moan, her eyes closed as she loses herself in the moment. For a brief second, I think I should leave, and give them privacy but my feet stay rooted in place. Something about the way she moves, the way her body responds to theirs, keeps me captivated.

Then her eyes flutter open, and she sees me. Our gazes lock, and for a split second, I see the flicker of surprise on her face. But it's quickly washed away by something else—pleasure, raw and intense. Her body trembles as the moment unfolds, and my reaction is instant, undeniable. My chest tightens, but not with discomfort… it's desire.

Dylan arches her back, a low moan escaping her lips. Ford and Jacob are lost in her, their movements synchronized, driving her higher. She gasps, a sound that seems to echo in the large space, and in an instant, they shatter together—her body clenching around them as waves of pleasure crash over her. The sight sends all the blood to my cock.

Ford is the first of the guys to notice me standing there, and he smirks, that usual cocky grin lighting up his face. "Well, look who showed up," he says, voice laced with amusement. "Care to join us? Or are we back to our old ways of creeping?"

I flip him off. "I knocked. Called out. Nobody answered."

Dylan, still catching her breath, smiles softly at me. "It's okay," she says.

There's no awkwardness between us, no sense that I'm an outsider. Just a quiet understanding, like this is simply part of the connection we all share.

Ford chuckles, still watching me with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "You've had her all summer, and you're telling me you haven't fucked or tasted her yet?"

"We're taking our time," I say, the words coming out firmer than I expected. Ford's teasing doesn't bother me, though. Not really. There's something playful about it, like we all know where this is heading, but we're in no rush to get there.

Jacob shoots Ford a look. "Let it be, man. It's about more than just that."

I nod in silent agreement and try to change the subject. Because the truth is, I've thought of burying myself in Dylan every day this summer. How her pussy would taste and what noises she'd make while riding me. But I didn't want to do it while she was away from Ford and Jacob, like I was the consolation prize since her boyfriends weren't here. Or have her think I'm taking advantage since she was alone. I want more for us than that.

"Whose place is this?" I ask, glancing around the room.

"Ours." Ford rolls off the bed and begins to redress.

I raise a brow. "What?"

"It's my parents' place. They rented it out as an Airbnb but took it off the site so we can stay here as long as we need." He finishes putting on his shirt and meets my gaze. "You could live here too, you know. Might be easier to stay with us off-campus than having two places."

I consider the offer, the idea of living with them lingering in my mind. It could be a chance to explore what I have with Dylan while sharing a space with her and her boyfriends. But I want to be sure we're all on the same page before diving into that.

"I'll think about it. Maybe for now, I'll stay at my place and visit. Let you guys settle in."

Dylan smiles warmly at me, her gaze soft. "That sounds perfect."

Ford looks like he's about to say something else, but Jacob gives him a look, silently telling him to drop it.

"Anyway," Dylan says, stretching her arms above her head, her body still glowing from the intensity of her orgasm. "I'm starving. Can we get food?"

My eyes are glued to her tits, the perfect tan nipples still perked, and how they bounce slightly with each movement.

"What do you want?" Jacob asks, his voice pulling me from my thoughts of nipping and sucking at Dylan's soft curves. I glance his way, and I see him tugging on his clothes.

"Chinese," she says without hesitation, her eyes lighting up. "I've been craving egg rolls."

I laugh. "Chinese it is."

Within half an hour, we're all sitting around the dining table, eating takeout and talking like it's the most natural thing in the world. The house, with its cozy decor and warm lighting, feels less strange now. It's starting to feel like a place where something new can begin.

I steal a glance at Dylan, watching her laugh and talk, her face glowing with happiness. As I sit there, something clicks into place. Maybe this can work. Maybe, despite how unconventional it is, this dynamic, this connection between all of us, could actually work.