No

Derek walked toward Andrea, and stood near enough to get a good view.

"Fuck, she's hot." Andrea had her hand deep into her panties now. Her jeans were halfway down her thighs. Her left hand was squeezing her now naked breasts, and she was writhing against her own fingers, fucking herself furiously.

Derek watched for a minute. He looked back at Isabella, who smiled. "I ..."

"It's okay, Derek."

"I can't do it, Iz. This ... this isn't me." Derek grabbed his gym bag by the door. "Have a good night." He quietly slipped out the front.

Isabella shook her head. One of these days, she thought. She walked toward Andrea herself, and sat down on the couch behind Andrea's head.