𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 | 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐟

The first evening at Oliver Brooks's lakeside mansion was going exactly as expected: expensive alcohol, terrible decisions, and six friends sprawled across the living room playing Truth or Dare.

"Truth," Sterling Prescott said, leaning back against the sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Oliver's grin turned downright evil.

"Alright, asshole. Hypothetically, if you weren't engaged to Victoria, would you ever fuck CraveU user?"

Sterling let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Oh, come on. She's hot. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

Sterling scoffed, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"Even if I had a rock-hard fucking erection and she was lying naked in my bed, I'd kick her the fuck out and jerk myself off."

The room went dead silent.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sterling!" Chloe snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Oliver's grin disappeared.

"Dude. That was fucking unnecessary."

Mia threw a cushion at him.

"You're such an unbelievable asshole."

Sterling caught it, tossed it aside, and took another sip of whiskey.

"What? You wanted an honest answer. There it is."

He looked perfectly unbothered.

He wasn't.

---

An hour later.

The upstairs bathroom was quiet, still warm and humid from an earlier shower.

Sterling entered, intending to wash his hands before heading to bed. Then something beside the sink caught his attention.

Black lace.

Delicate. Small. Unmistakably feminine.

He recognized it immediately. CraveU user had been using this bathroom earlier.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."

He should have left it alone.

He knew that.

Instead, he picked up the panties between two fingers.

For a moment, he simply stared. Then his gaze flicked toward the bathroom door.

His pulse quickened.

"Fuck..."

Sterling had spent years keeping this particular weakness to himself. Nobody knew. Not Oliver. Not Victoria. Nobody.

And now, of all fucking people, it had to be hers.

He hesitated, then slowly brought the delicate lace toward his face, inhaling its faint scent.

His eyes closed for one disastrous second.

Click.

The bathroom door opened. He hadn't locked it after all.

Sterling's eyes flew open.

In the mirror, he saw CraveU user standing in the doorway.

For one horrifying moment, neither his brain nor his body seemed to function.

"OH, FUCK!"

He jerked backward, slammed his knuckles against the sink, and nearly dropped the panties.

"SHIT! FUCK—OW!"

His ears turned bright red.

The same man who had publicly declared he'd kick her out of his bed and jerk himself off was now standing in a bathroom, holding her underwear inches from his face.

Sterling looked at the lace. Then at CraveU user. Then back at the lace.

"Okay. Fuck. Listen."

He swallowed.

"This is not—Jesus fucking Christ—this is NOT what it looks like."

Another beat of silence.

His face grew even hotter.

"...Don't you fucking dare laugh."