I collapsed onto my back between them, my chest heaving as I tried to remember how breathing worked. Diane was completely gone, face-down in the pillows with her pink hair spread everywhere like she’d been hit by a truck. Which, fair. I’d fucked her through three orgasms and she’d stopped being coherent somewhere around the second one.

Sloane was still conscious but barely. She lay on her side facing me, one hand resting on her lower stomach with this expression that was equal parts satisfied and shell-shocked.

My Boundless Stamina was carrying me through the exhaustion but even that had limits. We’d gone four more rounds after that first one, switching positions and partners until nobody could remember who was doing what to whom anymore. The sheets were completely ruined, the room smelled like sex and expensive perfume, and I was pretty sure I’d just had the best and most terrifying night of my life.

The quest notification had popped up somewhere around round three. I’d dismissed it without reading because I’d been too busy making Sloane scream my name while Diane watched and gave pointers like she was coaching a Hero exam.

My life was insane.

Sloane’s hand moved in slow circles on her stomach, her expression distant. I turned my head to look at her properly and found her staring at the ceiling with unfocused blue eyes.

"You good?" I asked.

"Mm." She didn’t look at me. "I can still feel you."

My brain took a second to process that. "Feel me how?"

"Inside." Her cheeks went pink. "Your cum. It’s so much and it’s just sitting there and I can feel it and I need to make sure I stay on the pill because otherwise we’re having a very different conversation in about nine months."

The mental image of Sloane pregnant with my kid hit me like a truck and I didn’t know whether to be terrified or weirdly turned on by it. Probably both. Definitely both.

"Would make cute babies though," I said without thinking.

Sloane’s head whipped around so fast I heard her neck crack. Her face went from pink to bright red in about half a second and her hand shot out to punch my shoulder.

"You can’t just say that!"

"Ow." I rubbed my shoulder even though it didn’t actually hurt. "Why not? It’s true."

"Because you can’t!" She hit me again. "We’re barely adults and we just finished a threesome with my mother and you’re talking about babies like we’re planning a grocery list!"

I grinned because flustered Sloane was my favorite Sloane. "I’m just saying hypothetically our kids would be objectively adorable. Pink hair, amber eyes, explosive temper. Halloran would beg them to apply."

"Stop talking." She buried her face in the pillow. "You’re the worst."

"You started it with the birth control comment."

"That was practical!" Her voice was muffled. "I was being responsible!"

"And I’m being realistic." I rolled onto my side to face her properly. "Come on. You know they’d be cute."

Sloane peeked out from the pillow, her face still bright red. "I hate you."

"No you don’t."

"Yes I do." She hit me again but there was no force behind it. "You’re terrible and I hate you and our hypothetical children would probably be nightmares."

"Nah." I caught her hand before she could hit me again. "The girl would be a heartbreaker. We’d name her something cool like Navae. And the boy would be Rome and he’d be the protective older brother type who threatens every guy who looks at his sister wrong."

Sloane’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. She stared at me for a solid five seconds before her face somehow went even redder.

"I didn’t," she started. "I never said—those aren’t—" She made a strangled sound. "Shut up! I literally didn’t mention any of that!"

"You didn’t have to." I was grinning so hard my face hurt. "Your brain went there all on its own."

"It did not!"

"It absolutely did. You’ve thought about this before."

"I have not!" She grabbed a pillow and smacked me with it. "Stop putting words in my mouth!"

"I’m not putting anything anywhere. You’re the one who immediately knew the names and birth order."

"Coincidence!"

"Sure it is."

She hit me with the pillow again, harder this time, and I let her because watching her freak out was worth taking a few hits. Her face was so red I was genuinely worried she might pass out from embarrassment.

"You’re impossible," she said finally, giving up on the pillow assault. "And for the record I was not thinking about our future children. I was thinking about not getting pregnant right now which is a completely different thing."

"Uh huh."

"It is!"

"Whatever you say."

She glared at me but there was no real heat behind it. After a second she looked away, her fingers still tracing patterns on her stomach.

"They would be cute though," she muttered.

I almost choked. "What?"

"Nothing!" She sat up quickly. "I didn’t say anything. You’re hearing things. I’m going to shower because I’m covered in—" She gestured vaguely at herself. "Everything."

"Sloane."

"Nope. Not having this conversation." She swung her legs off the bed and stood up on shaky legs. "You broke me. I need water and a shower and maybe therapy."

I watched her walk toward the bathroom, completely naked and still flushed pink from her neck to her chest. The afternoon light caught the curve of her hips and the pink strands in her hair and I had the deeply inconvenient realization that I’d meant what I said.

Our kids would be cute as hell.

The bathroom door closed and I heard the shower turn on. Beside me Diane finally stirred, making a sleepy sound as she rolled onto her back.

"Is she gone?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Shower."

"Smart." Diane didn’t open her eyes. "I can’t feel my legs."

"Sorry about that."

"Don’t be." She smiled without looking at me. "That was exactly what I needed."