The lock clicks open, and Emily pushes the door wide, stepping aside to let me pass.
I drag myself over the threshold, my Quick Mart uniform clinging to my skin with that particular combination of sweat and fluorescent store smell that no amount of washing ever quite removes. The house is cool and dark, curtains still drawn against the morning sun. Emily closes the door behind us with a soft thud that sounds too loud in the quiet.
"What's on your mind, Danny?" Her voice cuts through the silence as she sets her keys on the entry table. "You've been thinking in silence since you got in the car."
I freeze mid-step, my hand halfway to pulling off my work vest. Of course she noticed. Emily always notices when something's churning in my head. I can never hide shit from her, not really.
I sigh, the sound coming from somewhere deep and exhausted in my chest. The words stick in my throat for a second, shame making them heavy and awkward. "I don't want to be a cuck."
The admission hangs in the air between us. My face burns immediately, heat flooding from my neck up to my ears. I can't look at her, so I stare at the floor instead, at her expensive shoes next to my beat-up sneakers.
"What do you mean?" Emily's voice carries genuine confusion, not judgment. Just curiosity.
I force myself to meet her eyes. She's watching me with that intense focus that makes me feel simultaneously exposed and safe. "I don't like it," I say, my voice coming out rougher than I intend. "The word, I mean. Cuck. It feels..." I struggle to articulate what's been eating at me all shift. "I feel this giant sense of shame about how badly I want to try sloppy seconds."
The words tumble out in a rush, confession and admission all tangled together. My stomach clenches, waiting for her reaction. Waiting for her to realize how fucked up I am, how broken my desires are.
Emily laughs.
Not cruel or mocking. Just this warm, genuine sound that makes my chest loosen slightly. She crosses the distance between us, her hands coming up to frame my face. Her blue eyes search mine with infinite tenderness.
"Let's not call it that word, baby," she says softly, her thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Let's stick to reclaiming, okay?"
The simple reframing hits me harder than it should. Reclaiming. Not sloppy seconds. Just taking back what's mine. Proving she belongs to me despite everything.
"Reclaiming," I repeat, testing the word on my tongue. It sits better there, feels less like shame and more like purpose.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Emily says, her voice taking on that gentle, coaxing quality that always makes my defenses crumble. She steps closer, eliminating what little space remains between us. Her body presses against mine, warm and solid and real. "But is it just shame holding you back?"
The question pierces through me like a blade. My mouth opens, then closes.
"I don't know," I admit, the words barely above a whisper.
Emily's arms wrap around me immediately, pulling me against her chest with enough force that I stumble slightly into her embrace. Her fingers thread through my hair, stroking in that soothing way that makes my eyes want to close despite the turmoil churning in my gut.
"I've never felt you more turned on than the other night," she murmurs against my ear, her breath warm on my skin. "When we watched that video together. When you fucked me while seeing what I do for work." Her grip tightens, like she's afraid I'll pull away. "And I'd love to see you want me that badly again."
My cock twitches at the memory, heat flooding through me despite the shame still sitting heavy in my chest. She's right. I was harder than I've ever been, more desperate, more consumed by need than I knew was possible.
"There's no one here to judge you, baby," Emily continues, her voice dropping to something soft and reverent. "Okay? It's just you and me." She pulls back just enough to look at my face, her blue eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "And I don't see you as some weak loser. I see you as someone who wants to push their comfort zone. Someone brave enough to explore what turns him on."
The words hit me like a physical thing. Brave. She thinks I'm brave for this, not pathetic or broken or wrong. The shame doesn't disappear completely, but it shifts, becomes something I can breathe around instead of drowning in.
"Really?" The question comes out small, uncertain.
"Really." Emily's smile is soft, genuine, completely devoid of judgment. Her hand cups my cheek, thumb stroking across my skin with infinite tenderness. "You think I don't know how hard it is to admit what you want? To say it out loud when society tells you it's wrong or shameful?" Her other hand finds mine, interlacing our fingers. "But fuck society, Danny. What matters is what makes us happy. What brings us closer together."
I swallow hard, feeling something tight in my chest begin to loosen. "I want to try it," I say, the admission coming out stronger this time. "The reclaiming thing. I want to see if it's as intense as I think it'll be."
"Of course, baby." Emily's arms tighten around me, her whole body radiating warmth and reassurance. "And don't worry, I'll make you feel as safe as possible, okay?"
The promise settles something in my chest. "Alright."
She hugs me tighter, and I let myself sink into it, breathing in her scent. For a moment, everything else fades away, the shame, the confusion, the fear of what wanting this might mean about me.
"How was work, by the way?" Emily asks, pulling back slightly to look at my face.
The question brings everything from tonight flooding back. Zack's phone screen. Sienna's satisfied grin in that photo. The awkward proposition I turned down.
"Oh yeah," I say, the words coming out before I can really think about them. "Zack asked us to swing with him and Sienna."
Emily goes rigid in my arms. Not violently, but I feel every muscle in her body lock up, like someone's just flipped a switch. The warmth that was radiating from her moments ago turns to ice so fast it makes my breath catch.
"Did he." The words come out flat, not a question. Something dangerous threads through her voice.
I pull back enough to see her face. Her expression has transformed completely, the soft tenderness from seconds ago replaced by something cold and calculating. Her blue eyes have gone sharp, predatory in a way that makes my stomach clench.
"Because Sienna wants to fuck you," Emily says, and each word sounds like it's been dipped in acid.
"No." I shake my head immediately. "I don't think that's what it was."
Her jaw tightens, and I watch her fingers curl into fists at her sides. "What was it then?"
I take a breath, thinking back to Zack's easy grin, his casual dismissal of watching Sienna with other men, the way he lit up when talking about fucking different women.
"I think Zack just swings as a means to fuck whoever he wants," I say slowly, watching Emily's reaction. "I think he just wants to fuck you, and he's willing to trade away Sienna to get that."
The words hang between us, and I watch something shift in Emily's expression. The cold fury doesn't disappear, but it transforms into something else. Something more focused.
I watch Emily's face contort, fury blazing in her eyes like wildfire. But then I see her jaw work, her throat bob as she swallows hard. She's trying to calm herself down, wrestling whatever rage is consuming her back under control.
"Is that something you'd want to try?" The question comes out measured, careful. Too careful.
"No." The word leaves my mouth with absolute certainty. "I turned them down already."
Emily's eyebrow arches, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders. "Already?"
"Yeah." I run a hand through my hair, exhaustion making my movements sluggish. "The only part I'd even be interested in is watching you."
Her expression shifts again, confusion replacing some of the anger. "Danny, you wouldn't be happy trading me in for some young pussy?"
The suggestion makes me laugh, the sound coming out bitter and tired. "Emily, if we did something like that, I'd literally just be fucking her unable to take my eyes off of you."
Something shifts in Emily's expression. The fury melts away, replaced by something else entirely. Her lips curve into a smile that's equal parts wicked and adoring, dangerous in a way that makes my pulse spike.
"You love me that much, huh?" she purrs, and there's satisfaction dripping from every word.
My face heats up again, but I don't look away. "Yeah. I do."
Emily closes the distance between us in two strides, her hands framing my face as she pulls me into a kiss that's consuming and possessive. When she breaks away, I'm breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"You're mine," she whispers against my lips, and it sounds like both a promise and a threat. "All mine, Danny. Forever."
"Forever," I echo, and the word feels like sealing something I can't take back.
She takes my hand, interlacing our fingers with a grip that's almost too tight. "Come on. You need sleep. You look exhausted."
I let her lead me down the hallway toward the bedroom, my body moving on autopilot. The adrenaline from the conversation is starting to fade, leaving nothing but bone-deep tiredness in its wake. My shift feels like it happened days ago instead of just ending.
Emily pulls back the covers, and I sink onto the mattress with a groan that comes from somewhere deep in my chest. The sheets are cool against my skin as I strip out of my uniform, letting the clothes hit the floor in a crumpled heap.
She slides in beside me, her body immediately pressing against mine. Her arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me flush against her chest. I can feel her heartbeat through my back, steady and reassuring.
"Sleep, baby," she murmurs into my hair. "I've got you."