The sleepover had started with laughter.
It always did.
Pizza boxes on the floor. Blankets everywhere. Elias trying to get everyone to play truth or dare while Renee opened a third bottle of wine. Valeria sat cross-legged on the bed, doing Luca's nails while whispering dramatic predictions about everyone's love life.
The bed was huge—custom, Luca-designed, ridiculous. "We must all sleep here," he'd insisted. "Like cursed royalty. Or emotionally exhausted bridesmaids."
And somehow, it happened.
Cushions were tossed. Pillows everywhere. Everyone claimed a corner, a blanket, a leg. Luca outside most of the time taking calls from everyone. She always try to help him but he would tell her, this is her time for rest.
At midnight, after tiring themselves talking nonstop, they decided to take their beauty rest.
Eliana ended up between Valeria and Nicky.
Of course she did.
And as the lights dimmed, as the last jokes faded into silence, as breathing slowed and bodies shifted under the weight of sleep—
That's when it happened.
She felt him move closer.
Not all at once.
Just... gradually.
Like warmth seeping across skin.
Until his chest was against her back. His knees tucked behind hers. One arm draped over her waist.
Nicky was spooning her.
Casually.
Naturally.
Like it was the most innocent thing in the world.
Her breath caught.
She stayed still. So still.
His hand curled lightly against her stomach. Not possessive. Not even intentional. Just... resting.
And then—
She felt it.
Hard.
Firm.
Pressed right against her ass.
Her body locked up instantly.
She swallowed, eyes wide in the dark, heart thudding violently.
He shifted slightly, then stilled.
A soft breath against her neck.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Low. Groggy. Almost apologetic. "Ignore it. It's just... body stuff."
She said nothing.
Couldn't.
She could feel everything.
The shape of him. The heat. The rhythm of his breath. The way his fingers twitched gently against her waist like he was slipping deeper into sleep.
She tried to move.
Just a little.
But his hand tightened.
Not roughly.
Just enough to say: stay.
"Don't move," he mumbled, barely awake. "You're warm."
Her throat burned.
She didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't dare shift again.
And she could feel him. Every curve. Every line. His hardness throbbing against her through layers of clothing, setting her entire lower body on fire. She squeezed her thighs together, desperate, aching, dizzy from the pressure building inside her.
She stayed like that.
All night.
Not sleeping. Not thinking. Just... feeling.
Her panties were soaked.
Her skin hot.
Her mind a hurricane.
And he?
He stayed there.
Holding her.
Sleeping.
Unaware.
Unbothered.
Untouched by the storm he'd created in her body.
And when the sun finally crept into the room, casting soft gold across tangled blankets and slow, sleepy limbs—
He rolled away.
Murmured something about breakfast.
And left her there.
Shaking.
Wet.
Ruined.
And utterly, hopelessly in love.
After too much work, Valeria asked for another day out.
She bought a cabin with a lake. So everyone wanted to go and enjoy the water.
She still hesitated but how could she say no.
The day of their vacation due to wanting to feel like normal, they have rented a third rate van. The van was packed tighter than her nerves.
Bags in the trunk. Coolers wedged in the aisle. Shoes everywhere. Luca's hat boxes took up half the back row. Elias was already snoring with his mouth open. Renee and Valeria were sitting in the middle, feet up, arms full of snacks.
And Eliana?
Eliana was the last one in.
She stood at the door, blinking at the chaotic mess of limbs and luggage, clutching her purse and a giant tote full of sunscreen, towels, and backup swimsuits.
"There's no space," she murmured.
"Someone's sitting on someone," Renee announced, unapologetic. "We have a strict no-rooftop rule after what happened in Tuscany."
"Why did we even decided on this van?" Valeria moaned. "It's small and ugly."
Nicky raised his eyebrow. "We all insisted on it."
Everyone groaned in protest.
"Renee brought too much thing." Elias grumbled as he shifts on all the bags and boxes around him.
Eliana opened her mouth to protest when Nicky raised his hand.
"I've got room," he said lazily from the corner seat in the back, one leg crossed, sunglasses already on. "Come sit, darling."
She blinked.
Froze.
"I—what?"
He patted his thighs. "It's two hours. You'll survive."
She looked around and saw that everyone just looked forward the road trying too hard to not look at her. She sighed and groaned inwardly. If anything happened, it will be all their fault.
She glanced down at herself.
Floral mini skirt.
Thin panties.
Bare legs.
And Nicky.
"Are you sure?" she asked, voice tighter than she meant.
"Please," he smirked. "You're like... what? A feather?"
She smiled—awkward, flustered—and moved carefully down the aisle, stepping over Luca's travel-sized steamer and Valeria's glowing water bottle. Every step made her pulse louder.
She paused beside him.
"Just sit, El," he said gently. "It's me."
"Faster El. I'm dying here." Elias said wiping his sweat.
So she turned, exhaled, went in and lowered herself.
Onto his lap.
Carefully.
Slowly.
Like sitting on dynamite.
Her thighs landed on his.
Her ass settled against his hips.
And his hands—god, his hands—rested lightly on her waist, steadying her.
"There," he said. "Perfect fit."
She forced a laugh, tried to breathe.
"All good? Let's go!" Valeria driving piped up.
The van rumbled to life.
And she was on him.
Every inch of her pressed against every inch of him.
His chest at her back. His thighs under hers. His warmth sinking into her spine like sunlight—and she could feel everything.
Muscle.
Skin.
The slow, subtle movement of his body as the car turned a corner.
She couldn't lean back.
She couldn't lean forward.
So she just... sat.
Hands on her knees.
Face burning.
Body betraying her.
Her skirt rode up slightly with every bump. She tugged it down once—casually—but it was no use. She could feel the heat of his thighs on her bare skin. Could feel the fabric of her panties shift slightly when he adjusted beneath her.
And then?
The worst.
The absolute worst.
He leaned in.
Whispered near her ear.
"You okay?"
His breath brushed her cheek.
She nodded. "Yep."
He chuckled softly. "You're tense."
She swallowed. "I'm fine."
"You're practically vibrating."
Because she was.
Wet.
Overheated.
And stupidly, hopelessly turned on.
By the way his fingers curled gently around her hips to keep her balanced. By the way her legs were slightly spread across his. By the sheer, unbearable pressure of his body against hers.
Two hours.
She had to survive two hours. Almost all slept except Valeria. The music pumping in the air while Valeria sing out loud.
And she couldn't move.
Couldn't shift without dragging herself against him.
Couldn't adjust without exposing the exact kind of tension pulsing between her thighs.
And he?
He just hummed, resting his chin briefly on her shoulder, like it meant nothing.
Because to him, it didn't.
It never did.
But to her?
It was hell.
Soft, slow, perfect hell.
And the ride had just begun.