Chapter 5: Springing the trap
The blue glow from the laptop screen flickered across their faces, casting long, shifting shadows on the posters behind the bed. Some indie horror flick Mona insisted they’d all love droned on, the soundtrack a low thrum of ominous strings. Gina was stretched out perpendicular to them on the bed, head propped on one hand, absently braiding a strand of her blonde hair. Alex lay on his back, Mona tucked into the curve of his arm, her head resting on his chest where she could feel the steady, unremarkable thud of his heart. Her own felt like a trapped bird.
She’d spent the last three days replaying that conversation with Alex. His initial awkward deflection, the way his eyes had widened almost imperceptibly when she’d said Gina’s name, the slow, thoughtful blink when she’d murmured the word threesome into the warm skin of his neck. He hadn’t said yes. Hadn’t said no. Just a quiet, "Huh." Followed by sleep. The uncertainty was a live wire under her skin.
Gina shifted, her bare foot brushing Mona’s ankle. A tiny jolt. Mona inhaled sharply, the scent of Gina’s sandalwood-and-ink perfume cutting through the popcorn smell. On screen, a character screamed. Gina snorted. "Dumbass. Don't go in the basement, genius."
Alex chuckled, a low rumble Mona felt through her cheekbone. "Seriously. The basement is always bad news."
Mona closed her eyes, the flickering light painting patterns on her eyelids. Do it. Just do it. The plan, half-formed and reckless, solidified. She tilted her head up, finding Alex’s jawline in the dimness. She traced it with her lips, feather-light at first. He hummed, a pleased sound, and tightened his arm around her. She kissed the corner of his mouth, then pressed her lips fully against his. Soft. Questioning. He responded immediately, deepening the kiss, his hand sliding down her side to rest low on her hip. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the familiar solidity. But her mind was elsewhere.
She shifted, turning fully into him, one leg hooking over his. Her hand slid down his chest, over the soft cotton of his t-shirt, past the waistband of his sweatpants. She found him already thickening, responding to her touch, to the urgency she was pouring into the kiss. A flicker of something like triumph warred with a stab of guilt. She was using this. Using him. Using the moment. But the image of Gina, watching them, her expression unreadable in the darkness, fanned the heat low in Mona’s belly.
She kissed Alex harder, her fingers curling around his growing erection through the fabric. He groaned, low and wanting, his hips lifting slightly. His hand slipped under the hem of her oversized t-shirt, warm palm skimming the bare skin of her waist.
"Whoa, guys. Save some for the credits reel." Gina’s voice cut through the heavy air, dry and amused. She hadn’t moved, still watching the screen, but her head was tilted slightly towards them. A small, knowing smile played on her lips.
Alex froze, his hand stilling on Mona’s skin. He pulled his face back, blinking, a flush creeping up his neck. "Uh. Sorry, Gina."
Mona didn’t let him retreat. She kept her hand where it was, pressing slightly, feeling him pulse against her palm. Keeping him there, on that edge. Her heart hammered against her ribs so loudly she was sure they both could hear it. She turned her head just enough to see Gina’s profile in the screen’s glow – the sharp line of her nose, the curve of her tattooed shoulder peeking from her tank top strap.
Now.
She shifted, pressing her lips right against the shell of Alex’s ear. Her breath hitched. She could smell the faint, clean scent of his shower gel, feel the slight roughness of his evening stubble. The words, practiced silently for days, tumbled out in a breathless whisper, barely audible over the movie’s rising score and Alex’s own ragged breathing.
"Imagine it's Gina touching you," she breathed, the words hot and dangerous. "Imagine her hands. Her mouth. On you. On me. While you’re inside me."
The effect was instantaneous. Alex went rigid beneath her. Not the aroused tension of moments before, but a complete, stunned stillness. His breath caught in his throat. The hand under her shirt clenched involuntarily, fingers digging into her skin – not hard, but with the shock of it. His other hand, resting on her hip, went slack
Alex’s wide eyes locked onto Mona’s in the flickering gloom. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, the flush on his neck deepening to crimson. Beneath her hand, the hard length trapped in his sweatpants seemed to pulse with its own frantic heartbeat. He swallowed audibly.
Mona kept her face inches from his, riding the wave of his shock. Her voice was a breath against his lips, barely more than a vibration. "Just think about it. Her watching us." She squeezed gently, feeling him twitch. "You want to, don’t you? See it? Feel it?" The words felt treacherous, thrilling. She braced for refusal.
A slow, shaky breath escaped Alex. He glanced towards Gina, still seemingly absorbed in the movie, then back to Mona. His gaze was clouded with confusion, a flicker of something raw beneath. He gave one tiny, almost imperceptible nod. "Yeah," he breathed out, the word thick."Okay. Yeah."
Relief and a spike of exhilarating fear washed through Mona. She kissed his cheek quickly, pushing down the guilt. "Go to the bedroom," she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. "Get comfortable. Give me five minutes. Maybe ten." She disentangled her hand slowly. "Just… wait."
Alex hesitated, his eyes searching her face. He looked dazed, caught between arousal and bewilderment. After a beat, he shifted, carefully sliding out from under her. He stood, adjusting the front of his sweatpants awkwardly, avoiding looking at Gina as he shuffled towards the bedroom door. It clicked shut softly behind him, leaving a charged silence in its wake.
Only the tinny shriek from the laptop speakers and the frantic heartbeat pounding in Mona's own ears filled the room. Gina hadn’t moved, still angled towards the screen, the shifting blue light catching the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the intricate lines of the raven tattooed on her shoulder blade, visible under the thin strap of her tank top.
Mona pushed herself up slowly, sitting cross-legged on the rumpled sheets. Her hands felt clammy. She wiped them on her oversized t-shirt, the fabric suddenly scratchy against her skin. The air felt thick, humming with the unspoken words hanging between them, heavier than the horror movie’s soundtrack.
"So," Gina finally drawled, her voice lazy but razor-sharp beneath the nonchalance. She didn’t turn her head, still watching the screen where a shadowy figure stumbled through a decrepit hallway. "Subtle much, Red? Sending loverboy off to pre-game?" A faint smirk touched her lips. "Or did he just need a minute after that little show?"
Mona’s cheeks flamed. She swallowed, the sound loud in her own ears. "It wasn't... it wasn't a show." Her voice came out thin, unconvincing even to herself. She dragged a hand through her messy red hair. "Things just... got intense." She avoided Gina’s gaze, focusing on the peeling corner of a band poster on the wall. The silence stretched, punctuated only by another movie scream.
Gina shifted then, rolling onto her back and stretching languidly, the hem of her tank top riding up to reveal a sliver of tattooed hipbone. She propped herself on her elbows, finally looking directly at Mona. Her blue eyes were bright, unnervingly perceptive in the dim light. "Intense," she echoed, rolling the word around like a marble. "Right. And the whispered conference? Looked like you were giving him marching orders." She popped a piece of gum Mona hadn't seen her take out. "Should I be worried?"
Mona’s pulse hammered in her throat. She forced herself to meet Gina’s gaze, hoping the darkness hid the panic she felt. "No! No, just... needed a sec. Alone." She gestured vaguely towards the closed bedroom door. "You know Alex. Sometimes he needs... processing time."
"Processing?" Gina’s eyebrow arched, a perfect, skeptical curve. She chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent an unexpected shiver down Mona’s spine. "Looked more like you lit a fuse under him. Poor guy practically teleported out of here." She tilted her head, her expression softening slightly but losing none of its intensity. "What’s really going on, Mon? You've been... twitchy all night. Weeks, actually."
The direct question landed like a punch. Mona scrambled for footing. This was it. The opening, however precarious. She needed to bridge the gap between them, physically, emotionally. Now. Taking a shallow breath, she swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet hitting the cool floorboards. "Thirsty," she mumbled, the excuse weak. "Grab you a water?"
She walked slowly towards the small fridge humming in the corner, deliberately passing close to the foot of the bed where Gina lay. The scent of sandalwood and ink grew stronger. Her skin prickled with awareness. She could feel Gina’s eyes tracking her every move.
Opening the fridge door provided a brief shield, the cold air a shock against her flushed skin. She grabbed two water bottles, the plastic slick in her damp hands. Turning back, she forced herself to walk towards Gina, not around her. She stopped beside the bed, looking down at her friend. Gina watched her, head still pillowed on her arms, expression unreadable save for a faint curiosity.
"Here," Mona said, holding out a bottle. Her voice sounded strained.
Gina didn't immediately take it. She just looked at Mona, her gaze traveling slowly from Mona’s flushed face, down the line of her throat, to where her t-shirt collar gaped slightly. That look – appraising, interested – made Mona’s breath catch. It was different from the casual glances of their long friendship. This held weight. Heat.
Mona’s hand trembled slightly. She lowered the water bottle, letting it rest on her thigh. Her other hand, seemingly of its own volition, lifted. Fingers brushed a stray strand of Gina’s pale blonde hair away from her temple. The touch was feather-light, hesitant. Gina’s skin was smooth, warm.
Gina didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Her eyes, locked on Mona’s, seemed to darken. The air between them crackled, the forgotten movie score fading to a distant thrum.
Mona’s thumb brushed the delicate skin just below Gina’s ear. The contact sent a jolt through her. She saw the subtle shift in Gina’s breathing, the slight parting of her lips. Heart slamming against her ribs, Mona let her fingers trail down, tracing the sharp line of Gina’s jaw with the very tips. It was a question. An offering. A terrifying leap.
Gina’s hand snapped up, not roughly, but with startling speed. Her fingers closed around Mona’s wrist, halting the trembling touch. Her grip was firm, grounding. Her eyes, wide and impossible to look away from, held Mona captive.
"Okay," Gina murmured, her voice low, husky, stripped of its usual teasing edge. A small, knowing smile touched her lips, softer this time. "So that's the move."
Gina's grip on Mona's wrist tightened, not painfully, but with a deliberate pressure that felt like an anchor and a dare. Her thumb brushed the frantic pulse point beneath Mona's skin, a silent counter-rhythm to the movie's fading shrieks. That knowing smile widened, revealing the faintest edge of teeth. "Been wondering when you'd finally make it," she breathed, her voice a low rasp that vibrated in the sudden quiet of the room.
She pulled, just enough to bring Mona off-balance. Mona stumbled forward, knees hitting the edge of the couch as Gina shifted fluidly upright. Their faces were inches apart now. Mona caught the sharp scent of Gina’s gum, the deeper notes of her perfume, and something else – warm skin, electric. Gina’s free hand rose, fingers tracing the heated line of Mona’s jaw with an artist’s precision, mirroring Mona’s earlier, tentative touch but infused with absolute certainty. Mona’s breath hitched, trapped in her throat. A tremor ran through her, equal parts terror and a desperate, unfamiliar hunger.
"Relax, Red," Gina murmured, her gaze locked on Mona’s parted lips. "Just breathe." Then she closed the gap.
The kiss wasn't gentle. Gina’s mouth claimed Mona’s with a focused intensity that sent shockwaves through her. It was confident, deep, tasting of spearmint and something uniquely, undeniably Gina. Mona froze for a heartbeat, overwhelmed by the sheer differentness – the slight pressure of Gina’s teeth on her lower lip, the way her tongue sought entrance with an expertise Alex had never possessed. Mona’s hands fluttered uselessly at her sides before one tentatively landed on Gina’s bare shoulder, fingers sinking into warm, tattooed skin.
Gina hummed approval against her lips, the sound a vibration Mona felt in her bones. The artist’s hands moved with practiced ease. One slid around to cradle the nape of Mona’s neck, fingers tangling possessively in her red hair, tilting her head for a better angle. The other drifted down Mona’s side, skimming the curve of her waist beneath the oversized t-shirt, then sliding boldly around to cup her ass through the thin cotton shorts. She squeezed, pulling Mona flush against her. The solid heat of Gina’s body, the press of her breasts, was a revelation. Mona gasped into the kiss, her body instinctively arching forward, seeking more contact.
Inexperience made Mona clumsy. Her movements were hesitant, her own touch uncertain as she tried to mimic Gina’s. Her hand slid down Gina’s back, tracing the ridges of her spine through the tank top fabric, then ventured lower, fingertips brushing the swell of her hip where the ink swirled. Gina guided her silently, shifting slightly to grant access, her lips trailing from Mona’s mouth to her jawline, then down the sensitive cord of her neck. Each kiss, each nip, was a lesson Mona absorbed with trembling eagerness. Gina’s hand slipped under Mona’s t-shirt, palm hot and smooth against the skin of her lower back, then gliding around to her stomach. Mona jolted, a small whimper escaping as those expert fingers teased the sensitive skin just below her navel.
Fabric rustled as Gina pushed the t-shirt higher, her mouth finding the hollow of Mona’s throat. Cool air hit Mona’s exposed midriff, followed instantly by the searing heat of Gina’s palm sliding upwards. Mona’s breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Gina’s hand found the slight curve of her breast, still covered by her thin cotton bralette. The touch wasn't tentative; it was a confident exploration, fingers tracing the shape, thumb brushing over the hardening nipple through the fabric. Mona’s head fell back, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the cascade of sensation – the soft scrape of Gina’s teeth on her collarbone, the skillful kneading of her breast, the intoxicating scent filling her lungs.
Driven by a surge of clumsy need, Mona fumbled for Gina’s tank top strap, pushing it down over her shoulder. Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the raven tattoo, then dipped lower, grazing the swell of Gina’s breast. Gina made a low, encouraging sound against Mona’s skin. She angled her body, granting easier access. Mona’s touch grew bolder, palm sliding over the warm, full curve, her thumb finding Gina’s hard nipple through the soft material. The boldness felt alien, exhilarating. Gina rewarded her with a deep, open-mouthed kiss, her own hand slipping beneath Mona’s bralette to finally cup bare skin. The direct contact, skin to skin, made Mona gasp again, her hips pressing forward reflexively.
Gina’s mouth was hot on her neck, her hand skilled and demanding on Mona’s breast, igniting trails of fire Mona had never imagined. The world narrowed to the taste of Gina’s skin, the scent of her, the overwhelming rightness tangled with a terrifying thrill. Mona’s fingers dug into Gina’s shoulder, anchoring herself as sensations threatened to sweep her away.
Gina pulled back slightly, her breath warm and ragged against Mona’s damp skin. Her eyes, dark and intense in the fractured laptop light, searched Mona’s face. A slow, predatory smile curved her lips, fingers still working magic beneath Mona’s bralette. "Damn, Red," she breathed, voice thick. "You been practicing?"
"Only in my head," Mona confessed, the admission tumbling out on a shaky breath. Her own hand slid lower on Gina’s back, tracing the defined curve just above the waistband of her low-slung jeans. "For weeks, Gina. Since... since that night at the gallery opening." The night Gina had worn that impossibly tight black dress, leaning over a sculpture, the line of her back mesmerizing.
Gina chuckled, a low, rich sound that vibrated against Mona’s collarbone. "Is that right?" Her thumb circled Mona’s nipple deliberately, drawing another sharp inhale. "Explains the weird vibes." She leaned in, her lips brushing Mona’s earlobe. "And the staring."
Mona shivered, torn between embarrassment and a fierce need to keep Gina touching her. Her free hand fumbled with the button on Gina’s jeans. "Couldn’t help it." The button popped open. "You just... glow."
"Glow?" Gina’s laugh was softer this time, almost surprised. She captured Mona’s wandering hand, cool fingers interlacing with her own, stopping the advance. "Sweet talker." She kissed Mona again, deep and slow, a languid exploration that made Mona’s knees weaken. Gina’s other hand slid down from Mona’s breast, tracing the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, then slipping boldly between her legs, finding the damp heat through the thin shorts. Mona cried out against Gina’s mouth, hips bucking against the sudden, exquisite pressure.
"Fuck, Mona," Gina murmured, breaking the kiss, looking down at where her hand rested. Her eyes held a mix of heat and sudden, sharp realization. "You’re soaked. For me?" A flicker of something else moved through her expression – confusion, perhaps concern. Her hand stilled, the pressure easing slightly. "Wait... Alex." The name landed like a chunk of ice in the humid air between them. Gina’s gaze snapped back to Mona’s face, the predatory heat dimming, replaced by wary clarity. "He’s literally in the next room. What is this?"
Mona froze, caught. The heat of the moment crashed against the cold wall of Gina’s sudden hesitation. She could feel Gina starting to pull her hand away, the connection fraying. Panic flared. "He knows," Mona blurted, her voice too loud in the sudden quiet. The movie had ended, leaving only the hum of the laptop fan.
Gina’s eyes narrowed. Skepticism hardened her features. "Knows? Knows what, exactly? That you’re currently trying to climb me like a tree while your boyfriend waits down the hall?" She extracted her hand fully, putting a few deliberate inches of space between them on the couch. Her posture shifted, becoming guarded, arms loosely crossing over her chest. "That doesn’t sound like Alex. Or you, honestly. Since when are you unfaithful, Mona?"
The word 'unfaithful' stung. It felt wrong, heavy. "It’s not like that," Mona insisted, scrambling for the thread of her plan, desperate to reel Gina back in. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She reached out, fingertips brushing Gina’s bare forearm, needing the contact. "Please. Just listen."
Gina didn’t pull away, but her gaze remained skeptical, watchful. "I’m listening. But this better be good, Red. Like, Oscar-winner good."
Mona took a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet Gina’s eyes. "I’m not cheating. I talked to him. Before." She licked her suddenly dry lips. "We... we talked about... possibilities." She saw Gina’s eyebrow arch impossibly high. "About you, Gina."
"Me?" Gina’s voice was flat. Suspicion warred with a flicker of something else – curiosity? "What kind of possibilities?"
Mona leaned closer, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper, her fingers tightening slightly on Gina’s arm. "He’s into it. Into the idea. Of... of you being there." She paused, gathering courage. "With us. Tonight." She gestured faintly towards the closed bedroom door. "That’s why he’s waiting. He wants it too. We both do." She searched Gina’s face, pleading. "Just one night. Something... different. Something amazing. For all of us."
Silence stretched. Gina stared at her, the blue light etching deep shadows under her cheekbones. Mona could practically see the gears turning: the confusion, the lingering doubt about Alex’s true feelings, the obvious, undeniable heat that had just arced between them. Mona traced the edge of a tattoo on Gina’s forearm – intricate geometric patterns she knew by heart. She let her thumb brush the soft inner skin, a deliberate, intimate caress. "Remember," she murmured, her voice husky, "how you told me life’s too short for boring?" She met Gina’s eyes again, holding her gaze. "This isn’t boring. And it isn’t betrayal. It’s... an invitation. For one night." Her other hand lifted, fingertips grazing Gina’s jawline, mirroring Gina’s earlier touch. "Say yes."
Gina didn’t move for a long moment. Her expression remained unreadable. Then, a slow, almost imperceptible shift. The hard line of her jaw softened fractionally. The wary skepticism in her eyes didn’t vanish, but it was overlaid now by a resurgence of that earlier heat, mingled with a profound curiosity. Her gaze flicked towards the bedroom door, then back to Mona’s face. A small, incredulous laugh escaped her. "Jesus, Mona. You really set this whole thing up? Like a goddamn sting operation?"
"It wasn't a sting!" Mona protested weakly, but a tiny spark of hope ignited.
Gina shook her head, a wry smile finally touching her lips. "Smooth operator." She uncrossed her arms, her posture relaxing incrementally. Her eyes roamed over Mona’s face, lingering on her kiss-swollen lips. "One night?" she repeated, her voice quieter now. "Just... see what happens?"
Mona nodded, her breath catching. "Just one night. No expectations beyond tonight. Just... us. The three of us." She leaned in, closing the small distance Gina had created. Her lips brushed Gina’s, soft and questioning this time. "Say yes," she breathed against Gina’s mouth.
Gina hesitated for one more heartbeat. Mona felt the tension thrumming through her. Then, Gina’s hand came up, fingers threading into Mona’s hair, pulling her closer. Her lips met Mona’s with renewed intensity, a low hum vibrating in her throat. It wasn't quite surrender, but it was acceptance. Agreement.
When they broke apart, Gina’s eyes were dark, pupils wide. She glanced once more towards the bedroom door, a complex mix of apprehension and undeniable arousal flashing across her face. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, the artist assessing a new, unpredictable canvas. A slow, challenging grin spread across her lips. "Okay, Red. Let's go see what the big deal is." She stood up in one fluid motion, offering Mona her hand. "One night. Show me what you've got planned."