The water in the pool felt warmer now, thick with the scent of chlorine and the sudden, heavy musk of desire. The "Isla" standing between the brothers wasn't just different; she was a catalyst, a match dropped into a room full of gasoline.
She pulled back just enough to look at all three of them, her gaze slow and hungry, moving from Rowan’s stunned intensity to Soran’s smirk and finally to Cauro’s breathless grin.
"Why settle for just a party," she whispered, her voice vibrating against their skin, "when we could make it a freaky party?"
Rowan’s hand tightened on her hip, his thumb grazing the skin just above the edge of the bathing suit. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Isla," he warned, though his voice lacked any real conviction to stop her. "You know how we get when we stop playin
