“Careful, big brother...”

I look around the room at the faces waiting on my answer. Megan’s hopeful little smile. Becka’s open, almost hungry expression. Josh still sitting too close to both of them. Samantha’s thin arms crossed, watching her husband like a hawk. Sara’s quiet smile from the loveseat. Hunter and Kate standing damp-haired and close enough that their shoulders brush.

“Twins’ room,” I say.

Megan’s smile widens. “Perfect. Hunter, Kate—you two can take the girls’ room for now. Penny and Jo are rarely home anyway. Sara, you can have the guest room downstairs, and Becka…”

“I’ll take the couch,” Becka cuts in brightly, “or whoever’s bed is empty. I’m flexible.”

Josh chuckles. Samantha shoots him another look that could melt steel.

The twins exchange one of those silent twin looks. Kate’s soft face stays carefully blank. Hunter just shrugs, but I notice the way his eyes flick to his sister’s damp tank top before he looks away.

We spend the next twenty minutes moving bags and swapping pillows. I help carry the twins’ stuff across the hall. Their room still smells like them—shampoo, laundry detergent, and that faint shared scent only people who live in each other’s pockets develop. Two twin beds, a shared desk covered in textbooks, and a laundry hamper that is clearly communal. I try not to think about how often they must have wrestled or studied or fallen asleep in here with the door closed.

When I come back downstairs the living room has thinned out. Sara has disappeared to claim the basement guest room. Josh and Samantha are already heading upstairs with their bags, arguing quietly about whether the master bathroom has enough counter space. Megan is in the kitchen starting coffee. That leaves me alone with Becka and the twins for a moment.

Becka is still in that same towel, now cinched tight under her arms, wet hair dripping onto her shoulders. She catches me looking and deliberately lets the towel slip an inch lower so the upper curves of her breasts show.

“Careful, big brother,” she murmurs just loud enough for me. “You’re staring again.”

Hunter’s head turns. Kate’s does too. I feel heat climb my neck.

“I’m not—”

Becka just laughs, soft and low, and walks past me toward the stairs, hips swaying under the short towel. The twins watch her go. Then they look at me. Something unreadable passes between them before they head upstairs to claim Penny and Jo’s room.

I stand there a second longer than I should, still feeling the phantom press of Becka’s nearly naked body against the air between us earlier, still hearing the wet sound of her lips on that red dildo. My cock gives a traitorous twitch.

Megan’s voice floats in from the kitchen. “Dan? Coffee’s almost ready. Come help me figure out dinner for this circus.”

I adjust myself discreetly and follow the sound of my wife’s voice, telling myself the tightness in my jeans is just leftover adrenaline from the day.

It isn’t.