Rachel watches as Sam and Alex play

Rachel moved through the rooftop crowd, bare except for her stockings, the cool night air teasing against her exposed skin. The party was alive, pulsing with reckless energy, bodies pressing together in a chaotic symphony of laughter, teasing, and moans of forfeited dignity. By now, she was used to the stares. The lingering looks no longer sent heat to her cheeks—only a familiar thrill down her spine.

She could feel it before she saw it, the shift in the atmosphere, a tightening of focus in the sea of barely dressed and naked partygoers. Something was happening. The knot of people ahead wasn’t just mingling—they were watching. She knew exactly what that meant.

Rachel pushed forward, slipping through gaps between eager onlookers until she reached the front. And there they were—Sam and Alex, standing opposite each other at a low table, the Jenga tower between them teetering precariously high.

Sam was naked, flushed, visibly straining to hold himself together. His chest rose and fell in controlled breaths, his muscles drawn tight with restraint. Across from him, Alex stood tall, her white dress now little more than an afterthought, bunched at her waist, her bare breasts catching the warm glow of the rooftop lights. Her smirk was razor-sharp, but Rachel could see the calculating gleam in her eyes.

A flicker of heat curled in Rachel’s stomach as she watched them, the tension between them thick as the humid night air. Sam’s fingers hovered over the Jenga tower, eyes darting between the trembling stack and the words etched into the block he had just pulled.

"Read it out loud, Sammy," Alex cooed, tapping her fingers idly against the table.

Sam exhaled through his nose before muttering, "Play with yourself until the game ends. Even while pulling blocks."

The crowd roared in laughter and cheers. Rachel’s lips curled as she took in Sam’s expression—somewhere between sheer mortification and **** amusement. His hand twitched at his side, hovering, hesitating, before finally, with a long, shuddering breath, he obeyed.

Rachel watched as his fingers wrapped around himself, the first stroke tentative, almost experimental, before a sharp jolt from the pill **** his body into full, undeniable arousal. His breathing quickened, his jaw clenched. He was barely holding on, and everyone knew it.

Rachel was impressed. And maybe... a little something else, too.

Across the table, Alex watched with open amusement, her emerald eyes flicking lazily down to his hand, then back up to his face. "There you go. Such a good sport," she teased, dragging out every syllable.

Then, with infuriating patience, she reached for her own block. The tower wobbled. Rachel tensed, watching the delicate way Alex’s fingers traced over the wooden pieces, searching for one that would slide free without betraying her balance.

Finally, she pulled a piece. A pause. A slow blink.

Her smirk wavered.

Rachel caught it—that one-second hesitation, the smallest crack in Alex’s carefully controlled demeanor. Then the redhead recovered, rolling her shoulders like it was nothing, but Rachel had already seen it.

Alex cleared her throat and read the words. "Insert a vibrator and keep it in until the game ends."

A fresh wave of chaos erupted through the crowd.

For the first time, Alex looked… thrown. Her expression didn’t falter completely, but there was a new tension around her eyes, a flicker of uncertainty beneath her usual arrogance. Rachel’s grin widened as she watched Alex process what she’d just signed up for.

"Oh, honey," Rachel murmured under her breath, just loud enough for those closest to hear. "Your turn to squirm."

A blonde spectator—far too eager to assist—practically thrust a small silver toy into Alex’s hand. The redhead took it without a word, rolling it between her fingers before shifting her stance. Her thighs clenched just slightly as she reached beneath her bunched-up dress, guiding the toy between her legs.

Rachel saw it. The barest hitch in Alex’s breath, the tension in her shoulders, the way her grip on the table tightened as the device settled inside her.

Then, exhaling slow, controlled, she straightened, feigning indifference.

But her face was nearly the same shade as her hair.

Rachel relished it. The game was turning on Alex, and the normally unshakable redhead was beginning to crack. The slight shift in her hips, the way her lips parted ever so slightly—she was feeling it, and there was nothing she could do.

Sam wasn’t the only one struggling now.

Rachel folded her arms, watching the two of them carefully. This was only going to get more interesting.

"Let’s see how long you last, Red."