The next thing I know, it’s morning. Light fills the room with a sharp, clean brightness that feels like a fresh start or a bare bulb in an interrogation room. My eyes flutter open.

Jeffery is still next to me, sprawled across the rumpled sheets like he’s got nothing to hide, like he’s not worried that everything could fall apart. That’s the thing about Jeffery: He’s never worried. He’s never careful. He’s never anything but fearless, and maybe that’s why I love him. Maybe that’s why I hate him.

I stretch, feeling the ache of last night in my bones, in my skin, in the secret places that only he gets to know. I should get up, but I linger in the sheets, letting the warmth and scent of our bodies wrap around me like a lie I want to believe.

The ocean is a murmur through the window, the voices of early risers just beyond the glass. I imagine Mom and Derek already awake, sipping bitter coffee and pretending they slept through the earthquake of last night. I wonder if Mom’s hands tremble when she pours the cream, if Dad stares too long at the horizon, pretending it’s not the end of the world.

I glance at Jeffery. His eyes are open, blue as the shallow surf, lazy and hungry and impossibly sure.

“You awake?” he asks, his voice a gravel-road whisper.

“Not really.” My words scrape out, rough and real. “You think they hate us now?”

He shrugs, holding my gaze. “I think we need to work on our plan on getting them to see us fuck again.”

The certainty in his voice is a drug. It makes me bold, reckless. It makes me want to gamble everything.

“So that’s all we do?” I say, sitting up, the sheet falling away from my bare skin. I don’t bother to cover up. I want him to look. “Just fuck until they can’t stand it?”

“Pretty much,” he murmurs, his gaze intensifying and traveling slowly over my body. “They’ll eventually break, and while they’re busy debating whether to screw us, we’ll strike before they can even think of backing out.”

He reaches for me, drawing me down to him, pulling me close.

"Listen," I say, leaning in closer. "If Mom catches us again, she might lose it even more. I've never seen her that furious before. We need to think of a more enticing way to lure them in."

Jeffery's hand runs through my hair, and I can feel him grinning against my skin.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, eyes gleaming with the thrill of it all.

"Maybe we start with Derek," I say, almost a moan. "But I’ll need you to distract Mom somehow so she can’t see how I’m seducing Dad. Making him want me so much that he can't resist. I think he'll then convince Mom."

“Well, I can seduce Mom while you're working on Dad,” Jeffery says. “I’m sure I can get her good and wet before she even knows what hit her.”

“You really think so?” I ask.

He nods before I could feel his hot breath on my neck. "And then we corner them both," he says, a dark promise. "Force them to face it, to want it, to want us."

I shiver, not from cold but from the raw, electric charge of planning this with him. "Do we do this today?" I ask, the word a taunt, a challenge.

"Why wait?" He rolls on top of me, pressing me down with his full weight and unwavering confidence, his rigid cock throbbing insistently against my thigh. "We make sure they're so consumed with the desire to fuck us that they can't even think of resisting."

The words drip from his lips like honey laced with sin, each syllable a fucking dare that sends a shiver down my spine and a flood of wet heat between my thighs.

My fingers tremble as I reach down, wrapping around his cock—thick, hard, and throbbing with the kind of urgency that makes my pussy clench in anticipation. I can feel the pulse of his blood beneath my fingertips, a steady rhythm that matches the pounding of my own heart. My legs fall open, wide and shameless, as I guide him to my entrance, slick and aching for him.

He’s slow this time, agonizingly so, letting the swollen head of his cock tease my folds before pushing in, inch by inch.

I feel every ridge, every vein as he stretches me open, filling me so completely that I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but moan his name like a prayer. My hips rock against his, deliberate and languid, the kind of slow, deep fuck that says we’ve got all the time in the world—that nothing else matters but this, but us, but the way his cock feels buried inside me.

He thrusts patiently, his hips meeting mine in a steady rhythm that drives me wild. His cock slides in and out, slick with my desire, each stroke hitting that sweet spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl and my back arch.

I can feel the pressure building, the lust simmering just beneath the surface, a sweet ache that begs for release. His hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as he fucks me harder, deeper, his cock pounding into me with a force that leaves me gasping for air.

The room is filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, the wet squelch of my pussy as it takes him in, over and over again.

I can feel the heat of his skin against mine, the way his breath hitches with every thrust, the way his eyes lock onto mine like I’m the only thing that exists in this fucking world. Maybe I am. Maybe that’s what terrifies me—the way he looks at me like he’d burn the whole fucking world down just to keep me here, just to keep this moment alive.

I wish I could bottle this feeling—the way the sunrise paints our skin with warm light, the way the salt air sticks to our bodies, the way his cock feels inside me, fucking me until I can’t think straight. My hands claw at his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper.

His lips crash against mine, hot and desperate, while his tongue tangles with mine as he fucks me with a ferocity that leaves me trembling.

I can feel the orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to drown me. My pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he thrusts into me, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge.

His breath is ragged against my ear, his voice low and rough as he whispers my name, telling me how good I feel, how tight I am, how he’s never going to let me go.

And then it hits me—an explosion of pleasure that rips through my body like a lightning bolt.

I scream his name as I come, my pussy pulsing around his cock as he fucks me through it, his own release not far behind. I feel him shudder above me, his cock twitching inside me as he spills himself deep inside me, filling me with his warmth.

We collapse together, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat, and come, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we cling to each other.

After, we eat from the room’s fruit basket, still naked, dripping juices, and laughing. Jeffery plots our seduction as if it’s a military op—timelines, contingencies, which parent needs more pressure, who’ll break first. His confidence is contagious. I catch it and let myself believe.

We dress. I pick the tiniest swimsuit, the one that leaves the least to the imagination, the one that makes me feel like I can do anything. Like I can do this.

The sun is already hot, the air thick with humidity, and the kind of tension that promises a storm. We head out, hands brushing as we walk, and I wonder how long it’ll take before we’re caught in it, before we’re swept away.

We find them at the resort’s open-air breakfast, seated at a table with an ocean view. The smell of coffee and tropical fruit fills the air, but all I taste is nerves.

I follow Jeffery's lead, strutting like we own the place, like we’re not about to detonate the last bomb in a long line of them.

Derek looks up first, his expression unreadable. “You’re up early,” he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Thought you’d sleep until noon after...” His words trail off, but the meaning hangs in the air like thick smoke.

Mom’s eyes are wary, as if she’s expecting us to explode, to implode, to cause any kind of disaster. “Didn’t think we’d see you two this morning,” she says, the edge in her voice too sharp to ignore.

Jeffery shrugs, all confident. “Dad said we would talk in the morning. Well, it’s morning,”

The look Mom gives him is ice cold, but I catch the crack beneath it, the way her lips part just slightly, just enough to betray her. “Yes, it is,” she says.

Derek sips his coffee. His voice is careful, tiptoeing over broken glass.

“I just want to know what you two are thinking. Where is this going?” He doesn’t look at me when he says it. He looks at the sea, the horizon, the world that’s still too big for what we’ve done.

“We’re not kids,” I say, and I can hear myself shaking, even if no one else can. “We know this is messed up. In fact, we were trying to figure it out ourselves. None of this was planned. It… It just happened.”

Mom's laugh is sharp, like shattered glass. "It just happened?" she questions, her voice lacking anger but full of disbelief. "Are you telling me you just bent over and, out of nowhere, your brother's dick ended up inside you?"

My breath catches, and I feel Jeffery's hand brush mine under the table, a silent reminder that we're in this together. I don’t know if that makes this easier or harder.

"Pretty much," he says, and there's a defiance in his voice, a challenge, but also something like regret. Like an apology. "We're not trying to hurt you. We just...we want to figure this out. Together."

Derek's face softens, like he's seeing something he didn't expect. "You know how this looks, don't you? To us. To everyone."

"Of course we do," I say, my voice breaking, my heart breaking with it. "And if you can't deal with it, if you don’t want to be around us, we understand." It’s a lie. It’s the truth. It’s the last thing I want to say, but I say it anyway.

Loni's eyes narrow, searching, probing. "And what, exactly, do you want from us?" she asks, each word carved from ice.

The table is silent, humming with the tension we dragged in from the night. Jeffery looks at me, then back at them.

"We want you to see us," he says, and I know he means it in every way. "We want you to know who we are, what we want. We don't want to hide."

Derek gives a long sigh, like a man letting out every last ounce of hope, or maybe just letting go of the idea that any of this could be fixed by force. “You’re both adults,” he says, “but this… It’s not something people do. Not in our world.”

Loni shakes her head, but she’s not fighting anymore. I can see it in the set of her jaw.

"Fine," she says, and there's a note of exhaustion, but also something else—something softer, something that tastes like curiosity. "If you're going to do this, then have the decency to be honest. Especially with us and especially with yourselves."

I don’t know if it’s a win, but it’s not a loss. Not yet.

Jeffery leans back, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. "You’ll see," he says, and it sounds like a promise, a threat, a revelation.

They sit in silence as we walk away, as we head toward the beach. I feel their eyes on me, on us, on everything they can’t comprehend. Everything they’re going to have to.

The plan is in motion. The wild, impossible plan. I don’t know how it will end, but I know how it will start.

We spend the day in sight, in view, just like we said we would. We’re a show, a temptation, a dangerous, glittering lure.

I pretend not to notice when I catch Loni glancing, Derek staring. That I don’t spy the way their eyes follow us. They’re hooked, and they don’t even know it.

In the afternoon, we swim, the water cool against our skin, the sun hot on our backs. Jeffery’s hands are all over me, and I let them be. I let them see. We break the surface, laughing and breathless, and I know we’re not just in their sight. We’re in their heads.

“Think they’ll bite?” I ask, chest heaving, heart a drumroll, a warning, a thrill.

“They’re already circling,” Jeffery says, and I can hear the victory in his voice, the triumph, the certainty. “They’ll be on the line by tonight.”

“Then what?”

He pulls me close, the ocean a sparkling conspiracy around us. “Then we reel them in.”

We swim to shore, toweled off and dripping, and I can see them pretending not to watch from their blankets as we, the possibility, the ache, the need for the next step.

Jeffery leans back on his elbows, the sun glinting on his wet skin, his shorts clinging and leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s a beacon, a lure, and I watch Loni’s gaze flick over him before she catches herself, her lips pressing together tight.

My own suit is little more than a suggestion, the fabric thin and clinging, my nipples hard under the damp material. I see Derek’s eyes. They linger for a heartbeat too long before he looks away, pretending he’s interested in the horizon.

We stretch out our towels, lying close, too close, and the air between us is a live wire.

“You’re staring,” I whisper, and Jeffery grins, turning his head to me, voice pitched low.

“So are they,” he murmurs.

I glance over to Mom and Derek. They’re talking, but not really talking. Every other breath is a glance at us.

"I've got an idea," I mumble, reaching for the sunscreen with a sly smile. Seductively, I rise and saunter over to where Derek is lying out, his body languid and inviting on the towel.

"Do me a favor, Dad," I purr, handing him the bottle. "Rub this on my back, nice and slow, so I don't get burned."

Jeffery follows suit and sits next to Mom, asking her to do the same.

Mom looks flustered, unsure, but there’s a spark beneath the hesitation. She watches Derek take the lotion, his hand shaking as he pours it onto my skin. I shiver at the first touch, at the way he hesitates, then smooths it in.

“Is… Is this okay?” he asks, his voice a fragile thing.

I moan, low and soft, loud enough for them, for everyone, to hear.

“Perfect,” I say, letting my eyes flutter closed, letting my body sink into his touch.

Mom’s resolve crumbles as Jeffery hands her the bottle. “Your turn, Mom,” he says. His tone is effortless, but I can hear the tension beneath it, the same tension winding through me.

Her hands glisten as she spreads the lotion over his back, over his arms, over the muscles that flex beneath her fingers.

I watch them through slitted eyes, watch the way Mom hesitates, then lets herself go, lets herself touch, lets herself want. I see the moment it hits her, the moment she knows she can’t stop.

Derek’s hands slide down to my waist, his breath a shallow whisper.

My skin tingles, alive under his touch, and I arch into it, into him, feeling the thrill of the risk, of the seduction, of the moment he’ll finally break.

“Ella,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like a man trying not to drown.

I tilt my head, giving him a smile that says I know exactly what I’m doing.

“Don’t stop,” I say, and it’s a command, a plea.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes, and I know he’s close. I know they both are.

They’re going to give in. They’re going to give us everything.

All of a sudden, I sit up with a playful smile, grab the lotion, and purr, "Alright, Daddy, lay down. It's your turn now to get some sunscreen rubbed all over your body."

Mom gasps, her eyes wide with shock when she says, “Wait… What’s going on here?”

Jeffery lets out a laugh, deep and throaty, thick with triumph.

"Relax, Mom," he says, his words curling between us like smoke. "What are you scared of?"

He shoots her a look, the challenge obvious, daring her to protest as he gently pushes them both closer to that edge.

"We just want to take care of you both. No biggy." The words hang there, daring, almost teasing, the air crackling with the promise of what comes next.

Derek hesitates, his eyes locked on mine. I see the moment he decides, the moment he lets himself want.

"Okay," he finally says, rough, raw.

They're breaking. There's an undeniable tension in the air, a heat that seems to seep into everything, even into Loni's trembling hands as she reaches for Jeffery.

As he gently lays her down on her stomach and straddles her thighs, I can't help but notice the way her eyes blaze, caught between desire and hesitation as his groin presses into the crack of her ass.

Her inner conflict is palpable, as if the last of her restraint is both crumbling and clinging on in that fiery gaze.

Derek reclines beneath me, and I mount him, my thighs framing his hips as my pussy presses against his firm length, teasing and promising more. He groans deeply, a primal sound that reverberates through my body, igniting a fire within me, and I know we’ve got them.

"Honey, this… Oh god, this isn’t right," Derek mutters in a low tone, but his hands are already at my waist, already kneading the flesh above my bikini bottom, betraying the lie of his self-control.

I squirt sunscreen into my palms and start with his shoulders. His muscles tense under my touch. Then his...