Secret They Share

Chapter 2: Round Two

Round two kicked off with River, who spun the bottle with theatrical laziness, clearly enjoying himself way too much. He pulled his card, skimmed it, and grinned.

“Would you have a threesome with anyone in this group?” He didn’t hesitate. “Hell, yeah.”

Laughter rolled around the room like a wave crashing into alcohol-soaked sand. Everyone looked at Cherry.

She blinked. “What?” Her eyes flicked down to her borrowed shirt, like maybe she’d grown a third n****e. “It could be Milo and Lennox, you freaks.”

Milo coughed. Lennox smirked. River sipped his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

Next up, Cal. He pulled his card, blinked, and read it aloud. “Snap a photo of a mystery part of your body and have the others guess?”

Without another word, Cal stood and walked out of the room.

“That’s not ominous at all,” Milo muttered.

He came back thirty seconds later, tossed his phone onto the coffee table, and said, “Guess.”

Everyone leaned in.

Lennox tilted the screen and immediately burst into laughter so loud it rattled the walls. “What the hell is that?”

Cherry squinted. “Is it… a mushroom?”

Silas leaned closer, then jerked back like he’d seen the devil. “Nope. Nope nope nope.”

River fell sideways, laughing like a man possessed.

“That is your d**k, Cal,” Milo choked out. “You sent us your d**k head!”

Cal grinned, completely unbothered. “Zoom in. It’s a work of art.”

Cherry screamed. “You’re going to hell.”

Milo was next. He read his card, sighed dramatically. “Hide candy in your clothes and let someone search for it.”

His eyes went straight to Cherry. “Cherry.”

She lit up like someone had handed her a match and pointed at gasoline. “Gladly.”

Milo vanished briefly, then returned, tugging at his pants like a man who regretted everything.

Cherry raised a brow. “You look guilty.”

“Just start searching,” he muttered.

Cherry circled him slowly, her fingers trailing across his shoulders, down his chest. She dipped into his back pocket—nothing. Her hand slid lower.

“Jesus,” Milo breathed.

She knelt in front of him, fingers dancing up his thighs, deliberate and slow. “Hmm… nothing here.”

His jaw tightened like it was the only thing holding him together.

She tapped his belt teasingly, ran her hand across his stomach—then grazed far too close between his legs, just slow enough to make his breath hitch.

“You sure you want to keep this up?” he asked, voice a little higher than usual.

Cherry smiled sweetly and slid her hand under his shirt, fingertips brushing his ribs. “I’m being thorough.”

She pressed a palm to his chest, then ran her hand down again, this time along the inside of his thigh. Too slow. Way too deliberate. Milo flinched.

“Okay, okay!” he said, throwing his hands up. “It’s in my sock, under my foot. Just please stop molesting me.”

Cherry burst out laughing.

“I wasn’t gonna stop,” she said.

Around them, the rest of the group lost it—hooting, groaning, laughing through secondhand embarrassment like they’d all just witnessed a war crime. Cal looked personally attacked. Lennox raised his glass. Cherry didn’t even try to hide her smirk. And Silas? He just shook his head like he’d seen enough.

The chaos was still simmering down when Lennox grabbed the next card, glanced at it and immediately let out a laugh like he’d just won the lottery.

“Make out with someone on your right for thirty seconds.”

Every guy in the circle collectively turned to look at Lennox. Groans. Snorts. Cal even crossed himself.

“Man, that would’ve been a disaster if I was sitting on your right,” Milo said.

“I’d have just left,” Cal added.

“Burn the whole apartment down,” River said solemnly.

Even Silas let out a low whistle. “Close call.”

Then Lennox turned. Cherry. The mood shifted. The boys went quiet.

Then—

“Ohhh, f**k off,” Cal said, clearly betrayed.

Cherry didn’t even blink. She stood, walked over, and settled into Lennox’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then she kissed him. It wasn’t shy. Or playful. Or tipsy. It was smooth. Natural. Confident. Like she was already in control of the room and just confirming it. Long enough to stir something deep. To her, it was just a game. To him, it was a crack in the dam.

When she pulled back, she simply asked, “That count?”

Lennox couldn’t speak. She returned to her seat, utterly unfazed. He stayed frozen. Cherry’s turn came next. She read her card, and one brow shot up. “Pretend to give oral s*x to a bottle for thirty seconds.”

“Y’all better tip,” she said, picking the wine bottle and dropping to her knees.

She started slow—tongue tracing the rim, lips parted like she was worshipping it. Then her mouth slid over it, moving in steady, teasing rhythm. Her eyes locked with Silas’s.

He forgot to breathe.

Milo looked away and muttered, “I need a priest.”

Cal just sat there, stunned.

Lennox stared like he was witnessing a public execution.

River laughed—but it came out a little strangled.

When she finally pulled back, a thin trail of saliva connected her lips to the glass. She wiped her mouth. “That thirty?”

No one answered. They were all broken. Dazed. Hot. Somewhere between entertained and personally attacked. A few reached for their drinks. Someone muttered a prayer.

Finally, Silas picked his card.

“Lick peanut butter, whipped cream, or chocolate sauce off someone else’s finger.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Cherry.”

A fresh wave of hollers surged, but it died off quick. Because Silas was already moving. And Cherry, grinning, amused, bold, was already holding up her finger with a generous dollop of whipped cream.

He took her hand and leaned in. His tongue met her skin slow. Deep. Like he was tasting it. Tasting her. Not rushing, not playing—lingering. Cherry’s smile slipped. Her breath caught. She bit her lip. Pressed her knees together. Silas licked again, eyes still on hers. Deliberate. Intimate.

The group stopped breathing. You could hear the ice melting in glasses. The tick of the clock on the wall. A distant dog barking outside. But in that room, silence reigned—stunned, heated, and charged like static before a lightning strike.

Until—

“Okay, yeah,” Cal said loudly, practically diving for his drink. “We need to stop before you two start f*****g on the carpet.”

The room finally exhaled. Someone laughed too hard. Someone else just groaned into a pillow.

Laughter cracked like a thunderclap—nervous, breathless, grateful for the release.

But Silas? He didn’t laugh. Neither did Cherry.