Art of Misalignment

Chapter 16 Baptism of Three

Liam barely got the lock turned before Nancy was on him. She pressed close, arms looping around his neck, and they started kissing right there in the entryway—hard, messy, no holding back. The booze still buzzed between them, making everything sharper. Nancy took the lead the way only she could, and the edge of it hit Liam like a rush he hadn’t felt in weeks—dangerous, almost too much.

Lina stood a few steps away, watching. Her face, already pink from the beer, went hotter. She shifted her weight, eyes flicking anywhere but at them. “You… you two go ahead,” she mumbled. “I’m gonna take a shower.” She ducked her head and hurried toward the bathroom like she needed to escape.

Nancy broke the kiss just long enough to laugh under her breath. She grabbed Liam’s hand and tugged him after her. “Lina, come on. You’re not gonna shower alone, are you?” she called out, voice playful but insistent.

She pushed the frosted glass door open. Lina was already fumbling with the buttons on her top, startled when Nancy shoved her gently inside. Liam stepped in right behind. The bright bathroom lights hit them all at once—cold, unflinching.

Lina sucked in a breath. “Wait—Nancy, what—” she started, but Liam didn’t give her time to finish. He pulled her against him and kissed her deep, tasting the beer on her tongue. His hands moved fast—sliding over her sides, her hips, feeling the way she tensed then softened. .

Nancy didn’t rush. She stripped off her own clothes first, letting them drop to the tile. Then she moved to Liam—unbuttoning his clean white shirt. She tugged it off his shoulders, fingers brushing his skin. After that she turned to Lina, fingers gentle but sure, peeling away the last of her clothes until there was nothing left.

Seconds later they were all bare. Liam reached over and cranked the shower on. Hot water poured down hard, steam rising fast, soaking them in seconds.

Nancy went to her knees first in the spray. Wet hair stuck to her back as she looked up at Liam, eyes locked on his. She took him in her mouth—slow at first, then deeper. Liam hissed through his teeth, head tipping back. But his hands stayed on Lina, pulling her closer, kissing her harder while Nancy worked him.

He broke the kiss for a second, his fingers dug into Lina’s chest, rough, needy. The other hand slid lower, between her legs, stroking without hesitation. Lina shook under the heat and the touch, breath coming in short, broken bursts. She clung to his shoulders like she might fall. “Liam… I—” she gasped, voice cracking, but she didn’t finish. She just let her head drop against his chest.

Right when the tension felt unbearable, Nancy pulled off and stood. Water streamed down her body. She turned, planted her hands on the cold tile wall, and arched her back, offering herself.

“Come on, Painter,” she said over her shoulder, voice low and daring. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Liam made a rough sound in his throat. He stepped forward, gripped her hips, and thrust in hard—one deep push that buried him completely. He leaned over her back, one hand sliding up to brace against the wall next to hers.

Nancy braced her hands flat against the tile wall, body rocking with each hard thrust from Liam. She bit her lip to keep the sounds low, but every deep push pulled a short, broken moan out of her anyway.

Lina had given up holding back. The beer still buzzed in her head, and watching them right in front of her flipped a switch. Soaking wet, she stepped over, wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck from the side, and kissed him hard—desperate, open-mouthed. Her chest pressed tight against his back, skin sliding against skin, sending a jolt through all three of them.

Liam kept going, sweat mixing with the water, movements getting rougher, less controlled. Nancy finally hit her limit. A low groan escaped her, and her knees buckled—she slumped forward against the wall, breathing ragged.

Liam pulled out fast, the wet sound loud in the small space. He turned, grabbed Lina by the waist, spun her around so she faced the wall. He lined up and pushed in hard—one solid thrust that made her gasp.

“Ah—” Lina’s cry was sharp, surprised. She’d never felt that full before. Her hands slapped against the vanity for balance. She started moving her hips back to meet him, no more hesitation—just raw need. Her voice came out louder, unrestrained, echoing off the tiles.

Nancy watched for a second, she stepped in front of Lina, leaned down, and kissed her—slow at first, then deeper. Their hands moved over each other under the spray, exploring, pressing close.

Liam drove harder from behind, lost in the rhythm of it all. As he got close, his pace turned frantic, hips snapping fast.

Lina felt him swell inside her. She broke the kiss with Nancy long enough to gasp out, eyes half-open, voice shaky: “Inside… do it inside… I’m safe today…”

Liam growled low in his throat and let go—everything he’d been holding back poured out in one long release.

After a quick rinse, the three of them collapsed side by side on the king bed.

“Same thing every time,” Nancy said, rolling onto her side to face him. A lazy, teasing smile tugged at her mouth. “I still haven’t had enough.”

Before he could answer, she flipped the duvet back and slid down under the covers. Her mouth found him again, warm and insistent.

“Let me… just rest a minute…” Liam’s voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. He was spent—ready to sleep for a week.

“How can we rest?” Nancy mumbled around him, words muffled. She glanced up toward Lina. “I’m not done, and Lina wants more…”

Lina had curled into a ball under the sheet, face burning red. She didn’t say anything—just bit her lip and looked away, that mix of shy and wanting clear on her face.

The office air conditioning hummed cold and dry that afternoon. Chloe sat at her desk, eyes locked on the screen, running the final structural numbers for the Old Theater renovation. More than half the two-week deadline was already gone—she’d turned into a machine, just crunching data, one line after another.

Her phone lit up on the desk. Liam’s text popped on screen: “Chloe, that unfinished painting in the studio still needs your cold streak. I miss you. Tonight?”

Chloe’s finger paused mid-air. For a second the message felt completely out of place—some artsy line while she was buried in load-bearing calculations and overtime. She stared at it, jaw tight, then flipped the phone screen-down on the desk without answering.

She didn’t see Sarah walk past with a fresh coffee. Sarah’s eyes flicked to the still-glowing screen just long enough to catch the name “Liam” and the words “I miss you.” She kept walking like nothing happened.

“Oh, Chloe, you’ve got a boyfriend and never mentioned him?” Sarah stopped at the edge of the desk, voice sweet but digging. Her eyes stayed on the flipped phone.

Chloe looked up slowly. Her stare was ice-cold, the kind that made people back off fast. She pushed her glasses up with one finger. “It’s just spam, Sarah. If you’ve got time to read my texts, maybe use it to fix that wobbly rotating stage you turned in.”

Sarah blinked once, caught off guard, but her smile only sharpened. Chloe’s quick shutdown felt too clean—like she was hiding something. Sarah knew her too well. If it really meant nothing, Chloe would’ve just ignored it. The fact she bothered to snap back said everything.

“Boring messages, huh…” Sarah took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes narrowing. She wasn’t letting this drop. The more perfect Chloe acted, the more Sarah wanted to crack her open.

Back at her own desk, Sarah pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Find me a named Liam. I want everything—how he connects to Chloe, where he lives, his studio address. All of it.”

She hung up, leaning back in her chair. Beating Chloe at work wasn’t enough anymore. Sarah wanted to rip away that untouchable mask and drag whatever dirty little secret Chloe was guarding into the daylight.