Tucked beneath the boutique hotel was a private cinema—velvet walls, gold-trimmed armchairs, and a screen the size of a dream. Lianne and Marcus had it booked for just the two of them. Anniversary indulgence. Champagne, silk throws, and a film they wouldn’t really watch.
But when they arrived, someone was already inside.
Jade.
The concierge had made a mistake, apparently. She’d also booked the room. Alone, poised, and unapologetic in a leather jacket and red lipstick.
“I can leave,” she offered with a half-smile.
Marcus said, “No need.”
Lianne said, “Stay.”
They took their seats—three bodies in the dark, flickers of light playing across their faces, heat building not from the film but from glances, crossed legs, and silent dares.
Halfway through, Lianne whispered, “Do you want her to kiss me?”
Marcus nodded.
Jade didn’t wait for more.
She leaned over and kissed Lianne slow—soft at first, then deeper, pulling a quiet gasp from her lips. Marcus watched, entranced, as his wife melted into another woman’s touch.
Then Jade turned to him. “May I?”
Marcus pulled her into his lap. Lianne slid to the floor, undoing his zipper, taking him into her mouth as Jade kissed him breathless. Her fingers found Lianne’s hair, guiding her, teasing both of them.
Clothes slipped quietly away. Lianne lay across the velvet seats, legs open, as Jade knelt between them, tongue drawing out sounds louder than the film. Marcus moved behind Jade, sliding into her as she moaned against Lianne’s thighs.
They moved together like they’d rehearsed it—fingers gripping, hips grinding, breath catching in the flickering dark. Moans rose over movie dialogue. The projector kept rolling. No one cared how it ended.
When the credits rolled, they were tangled and glowing, flushed and undone.
Jade reached for her coat, smiled over her shoulder.
“Same time next showing?”
Lianne licked her lips.
“Next time, we pick the movie.”
