With one of his strongest senses taken from him, Sam needed to rely on the others. The following minutes narrowed to what he felt, heard, and smelled. The way the bed rocked meant someone moved to the front of him. The scent of rose-perfumed shower gel told him it was Chantelle. He would have known anyway, being as she was the sole other person in the room, and Bobby held him so tight, but her fragrance warmed his nostrils as he breathed in the smell.
Bobby rocked within him—small shallow thrusts being all they managed in this position with Bobby’s arms pinioning him to his chest, but each hit the right spot to heighten his need. Bobby watched, Sam knew. Though impossible to see, the man’s gaze stung. This was a test of whether Sam accepted them, agreed to follow where Bobby led. Bobby wa
