The morning sun was not as forgiving as the amber glow of the previous evening. It sliced through the gaps in the linen curtains of the master suite, casting a stark, revealing beam across the aftermath of the night before.
Georgia was the first to wake, her internal clock ignoring the exhaustion that weighed deep in her bones. For a moment, amidst the tangle of soft sheets and cooling skin, she floated in a haze of contentment. Then, the weight of a heavy arm draped over her waist and the soft, rhythmic snoring brought reality crashing down.
She lay still, her hazel eyes adjusting to the light, her heart hammering a sudden, erratic rhythm against her ribs. To her left lay Alex, face down, one arm buried under the pillow, his body revealed faint scratches – marks she can remember that she hadn’t put there.
The memory vividly assaulted her thoughts. The room had been dimmer then, heavy with the smell of the sea and the scent of arousal. She remembered the sight of Megan straddling Alex, her blonde hair a wild, swaying curtain that bounced against her chest as she rode him. Georgia had been watching, her breath pausing as she witnessed the sheer, animalistic focus on Alex’s face.
He had gripped Megan’s hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, guiding her downward with a possessive force. Every time Megan sank onto him and impaling herself fully, Alex’s head would tip back, the cords of tension standing out in his neck. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the harsh friction of their bodies colliding, and the guttural, uninhibited groans that were torn from his throat echoed in her mind. She realised now that it wasn’t the slow, romantic lovemaking he usually saved for Georgia; it was raw, starving friction, and for a terrifying moment, Georgia had felt like a voyeur re-watching a private, primal act she had no part in.
A cold spike of nausea twisted in her stomach, sharp and sudden. Last night, under the cover of dusk and the haze of wine and arousal, everything had felt electric, permissible, even necessary. The sight of Alex possessing Megan, the sounds of their wet, slapping skin, the taste of them mixed on her tongue – it had been the ultimate fantasy. But in the cold, clinical light of day, the fantasy dissolved, leaving behind a scream of vulnerability that Georgia hadn’t anticipated.
She watched them breathe. They were a closed circuit, limbs tangled together in a way that seemed effortless, while Georgia felt shoved to the periphery of her own bed.
She carefully lifted Megan’s arm from her waist, holding her breath as the blonde stirred but didn’t wake. Georgia slid out of the bottom of the bed, her feet silently meeting the cold tiled floor as the other two remained in bed, unconsciously shuffling together to fill the void. She looked back at them. They looked beautiful, peaceful. They looked like… a couple.
She felt exposed, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Every soreness in her body, usually a badge of honor after a night with Alex, now felt like evidence of a crime she had committed against her own relationship.
She grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe, wrapping it tight around herself as if it could hold her falling pieces together, and stepped out into the living space. Coffee.
The Aegean Sea was a blinding sheet of turquoise, indifferent to her internal crisis. Georgia gripped the railing, placing her coffee down, her knuckles turning white. The replay button in her mind was stuck. She saw the way Alex had looked at Megan, primal and hungry. She saw the way Megan had arched for him, a chemistry that seemed terrifyingly natural.
She closed her eyes, but the apparent nightmare burned brighter behind her eyelids. It was a moment that she now feels the dynamic had shifted, the moment the playfulness turned serious. Megan was on her knees, legs spread either side of Alex’s own, her hands resting nervously on his chest, looking down at him with her gaping, perfect blue eyes.
“Is this okay?” she had whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire. And Alex… Alex hadn’t just nodded. He had looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. He had run his large hands down the curve of Megan’s waist, over her hips, murmuring praise that made Georgia’s own toes curl in phantom pleasure.
“You’re perfect, Megs. So good,” he had groaned, his voice dropping in tone as he lined himself up with her entrance. He pressed into her slowly, savoring the slight resistance, before kissing Megan with a starving intensity that Georgia thought belonged only to her. In that split second, watching their silhouettes merge against the glass of the balcony doors, watching Megan’s back arch as she accepted him, Georgia now felt invisible, a ghost haunting her own love life.
She crashed back to reality. “Did I just break us?” The thought felt like a dagger in the heart. “Did I just show him that I’m not enough? That he needs variety? That Megan is tighter, wetter, newer, prettier?”
That phantom pleasure now felt like more jealousy and regret.
She hated the sting in her eyes almost as much as she hated the reason for it. Petty and cliché jealousy clawed at her. What happened to the ‘Cool Girlfriend’? Where was the adventurous spirit she had curated so carefully? Gone. Standing there, she felt that identity strip away until she was nothing more than a stranger overstaying her welcome at a party she was supposed to be hosting. Her self-confidence was vanishing.
Inside the room, the shift in weight on the mattress disturbed Alex as Meg rolled over on to her front. He groaned low in his throat, reaching out instinctively for Georgia’s warmth, but his hand met only the cool sheet and the soft curve of Megan’s hip.
His eyes snapped open. He propped himself up on an elbow, blinking away the warm, bright light of the sun felt like it was melting his retinas. Megan was still out cold, looking thoroughly ravaged in the best possible way. But the empty space in the middle of the bed was a glaring alarm bell.
He sat up, rubbing his face. The memories of the night flooded back. The intensity, the sheer volume of pleasure, but his first conscious thought wasn’t about the sex. It was about Georgia. He knew her. He knew the way her mind worked, how it could spiral into dark corners if left unattended.
He reached over and gently shook Megan’s shoulder. “Megs. Hey, Megs! Wake up.”
Megan groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “Shhh! What? Go away.”
“Georgia’s not in bed,” Alex whispered, his voice rough with sleep but edged with urgency.
That woke her up. Megan rolled over, her blue eyes bleary but instantly alert. She scanned the room, seeing the empty space. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, a sudden shadow of insecurity crossing her face.
“Is she freak-out gone? Or just coffee gone?” Megan asked, her voice raspy.
“I don’t know,” Alex said, swinging his legs out of bed. He grabbed his boxers from the floor. “But I know that look she gets. The ‘morning after’ silence. I need to find her.”
Megan scrambled up, wincing slightly as her muscles protested. “I’m coming too. Shit, Alex. Do you think she regrets it?”
“I think,” Alex said, pulling on a t-shirt, “that reality is a lot heavier than fantasy. We need to fix this. Both of us.”
Megan nodded, grabbing one of Alex’s oversized shirts from the chair. She felt a knot of anxiety in her own chest. Last night had been incredible, but she had spent the last few hours of sleep dreaming that Georgia hated her, that she had crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. She loved them both, but she loved Georgia like a sister. Losing her over a few orgasms wasn’t an option.
They found her on the lower terrace, staring out at the horizon, a cup of unsipped coffee cooling on the table beside her. Her posture was rigid, defensiveness written in the sharp set of her shoulders. She looked untouchable, wrapped in armor made of silk.
Alex signaled for Megan to wait a second. He walked up behind Georgia, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. He felt her stiffen instantly, a reaction that made him sense the invisible wall she had created.
“You left the best spot in the house,” Alex murmured softly, stepping into her peripheral vision. “Middle spoon.”
Georgia didn’t turn. She knew in herself that it was actually Megan who was the middle spoon, so she kept her eyes locked on the sea. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“G,” Alex said, pulling her closer and resting his hands lightly on her waist. He felt her flinch—a microscopic, involuntary rejection that hit him like a physical blow. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head?”
Georgia finally turned, pulling away from his touch to lean back against the railing. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face devoid of its usual morning warmth.
Megan stepped out then, her bare feet silent on the stone. She leaned against the doorframe, looking small despite the oversized shirt, clutching her elbows. “The bed felt huge without you, G. It was… wrong.”
Georgia looked from Alex to Megan. She opened her mouth to deflect, to make a joke, but the words stuck in her throat.
“I feel stupid,” Georgia admitted, her voice cracking. She wiped a tear away aggressively. “I wanted this. I asked for this. And now…”
“Now what?” Alex asked, his voice low and patient. He guided her to sit on the cushioned outdoor sofa. Megan sat on the coffee table opposite them, creating a close, intimate triangle, though the air between them felt fragile as glass.
“Now I feel like I watched you two discover something I’m not a part of,” Georgia said, the words rushing out before she could filter them. She looked at Alex. “I saw the way you looked at her last night, Alex. It wasn’t just sex. You looked… enchanted. Like she was the shiny new toy and I was just the packaging you had to get through.”
“Georgia, no,” Alex started, reaching for her, but she pulled her hand back.
“And you,” Georgia turned her watery gaze to Megan. “You guys were so in sync. The rhythm, the way you moved. I was lying there right next to you, and I felt like a spectator. Like a third wheel on my own vacation.”
Megan’s face crumpled. “Is that what you think? God, Georgia.” She leaned forward, ignoring the boundaries and grabbing Georgia’s reluctant hands. “I was terrified the whole time. You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking, ‘Don’t be too loud, don’t take up too much space, don’t make Georgia hate you.’“
“You didn’t look terrified,” Georgia countered, her voice trembling. “You looked like you belonged there. With him.”
“Because I felt safe,” Megan insisted, squeezing her hands. “But not because of him. Because of you. Because you were there holding my hand, or kissing my neck and trusting me with the situation. If you had left the room, I would have stopped everything instantly. I’m not into Alex, G. I’m into our friendship. I adore how much he loves you, and am honoured that I got to feel a tiny piece of that myself for a night.”
Georgia looked at her friend, searching for the tells of deceit, a lie, but finding only desperate honesty. She turned her eyes to Alex.
“She’s right,” Alex said firmly. He reached out, tilting Georgia’s chin up so she had to look him in the eye. “Listen to me closely. Last night was hot. It was fun. But looking at Megan? Touching her? It was just sensation. It was friction and adrenaline. It was a performance… No offence, Megs”
He paused, his thumb stroking her cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear. “But when I look at you? When I’m inside you? That’s home. That’s oxygen. I don’t work without you, Georgia. You aren’t the accessory to this; you are the centre, you are the architect of it. Without you, this,” he gestured between himself and Megan, “is just awkward gymnastics.”
Megan let out a shaky laugh. “He’s right. Honestly, G, looking at his face while he was doing me? He was looking for you the whole time. He was checking your reaction, seeing if you were getting off. I was basically just a very enthusiastic instrument to get you both off.”
Georgia’s breath caught as a different memory surfaced, piercing through the cloud of jealousy. Almost a daydream. It was near the end, when the room was spinning with heat and exhaustion. She remembered looking up through a haze of sweat and seeing Alex hovering over both of them, his chest heaving, his skin slick.
He was buried deep inside Megan, driving hard from behind, but his eyes weren’t on the body beneath him. They were locked onto Georgia’s face. He had reached out, his fingers tangling desperately in Georgia’s hand at Megan’s shoulder, anchoring himself to her even as he moved within her friend.
“Stay with me, G,” he had rasped, his voice rough and strained, ignoring the physical sensation of the new girl for that vital second to ensure Georgia was right there with him. “Look at me. It’s always you.” The intensity of his gaze in that moment, the way his pupils were wide – not with lust for Megan, but with a desperate need for his partner, told her the truth. Megan was the vessel for the pleasure, but she was the destination.
“A very loud instrument,” Georgia said with a weak smile, the tightness in her chest beginning to loosen.
“Guilty,” Megan grinned weakly. “But seriously. I felt insecure too. I felt like a slut, G. I thought, ‘Great, now they think I’m just the easy best friend.’ I don’t want to lose you guys. I’d rather never have sex again than have you look at me like I’m a threat.”
“You’re not a slut,” Georgia said fiercely, finally squeezing Megan’s hand back. “You’re beautiful. That was the problem. I got jealous, okay? I saw him enjoying you, and I got jealous. I felt… replaced.”
“Good,” Alex said, surprising both of them.
Georgia frowned. “Good?”
“Yeah. Good,” Alex smirked, finally letting a bit of his usual charm bleed back into the heavy atmosphere. “It means you give a shit. If you didn’t care that I was balls-deep in your best friend, I’d be worried about us.”
Georgia let out a startled laugh, swatting his chest. “You’re an asshole.”
“I’m an asshole who is obsessed with you,” Alex corrected. He kissed her forehead, then pulled Megan down from the table so she was squeezed onto the sofa with them. “We are venturing into uncharted waters here. It’s okay to freak out. It’s okay to be jealous. Just don’t shut us out. If you need me to stop, I stop. If you need me to never touch her again, I won’t. You have the control of this, always.”
Georgia took a deep breath, the tight band around her chest finally snapping. The scent of them grounded her. They were here. They were choosing her. The monster in her head was shrinking.
Georgia exhaled, leaning into Alex. “I just… I needed to know I was still the main character.”
“You’re the director, the producer, and the star,” Megan assured her, resting her head on Georgia’s shoulder. “I’m just the supporting actress hoping for a callback. But I need coffee first. And I think I pulled a muscle in my back that I didn’t know existed.”
“You might get a callback,” Georgia admitted, a small smile finally breaking through.
“That would be the ‘extended ass up head down’ maneuver,” Alex noted dryly.
Georgia blushed, the memory of the night shifting from painful back to erotic. “It was a good view.”
“It was a compromising view,” Megan corrected, nudging Georgia. “I expect a massage later as payment.”
“I think we can arrange that,” Alex said, his hand resting comfortably on Georgia’s knee, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. “But first, coffee. And maybe some food. I worked up an appetite. Apparently, two women are significantly more work than one.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Georgia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling properly once again. “Tough life, isn’t it? Did we wear you out?”
Alex closed the distance, his voice sinking to a whisper. “Let’s just say I’m running on fumes,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll get my second – no – third wind.”
The air between them shifted. The heavy, emotional fog evaporated, replaced by the familiar, crackling tension that had started this whole trip. Georgia looked at Megan, then at Alex. She saw the desire lingering in their eyes, but now, filtered through the reassurance they had just given her, it didn’t look threatening. It looked inviting.
“Well,” Georgia said, running a hand through Alex’s messy hair. “Since we’re all awake…”
“I’m listening,” Megan perked up, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes.
“I was thinking,” Georgia began, tracing a finger down Alex’s chest, “that maybe we need a ‘reset’. One where we go slow. No acrobatics. Just… us connecting.”
Alex groaned appreciatively. “I like the sound of a reset.”
“But,” Georgia added, turning to Megan with a wicked grin. “I think Alex needs to earn it. He was a bit greedy last night.”
Megan caught on immediately. “Very greedy. He hardly let us catch our breath.”
“So,” Georgia continued, “Maybe he should just watch for a bit? Or help? But no touching himself until we say so.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “That’s torture.”
“That’s the point,” Megan teased, moving her hand to rest on Georgia’s thigh, mirroring Alex’s position. “I think Georgia needs to be worshipped this morning. Don’t you agree?”
“I think Georgia is the queen of this villa,” Alex surrendered, raising his hands in defeat. “I serve at the pleasure of the crown.”
“Good answer,” Georgia purred. She felt powerful again. The insecurity had been burned away by their words, leaving a clean slate.
“Come here,” Georgia whispered to Megan.
Megan leaned in, and their lips met—soft, slow, and tasting of morning breath and forgiveness. It wasn’t the frantic, drug-fueled kissing of the night before. It was tender. It was a reaffirmation of their friendship, sealed with a sensual promise.
Alex watched them, his breath hitching. He saw the way Georgia relaxed into the kiss, how her hand came up to cup Megan’s jaw. He kept his word, keeping his hands on their waists, grounding them, but letting them have this moment.
When they broke apart, Georgia’s eyes were shining. She looked at Alex, then down at the bulge straining against his boxers.
“You really do recover fast,” she noted with a smirk.
“It’s a medical condition,” Alex quipped. “Chronic horniness induced by hot girlfriends.”
“Girlfriends, plural?” Megan raised an eyebrow.
“For the duration of this holiday?” Alex looked at Georgia for permission. “If the lady allows.”
Georgia thought about it. The fear was gone. In its place was a warm, golden sense of abundance. She had a boyfriend who adored her and a best friend who loved her, and they all happened to be incredibly good at sex. Why was she fighting this?
“For the holiday,” Georgia agreed. “But don’t get used to it. Once we’re back in London, you’re back to one-woman duty.”
“Understood,” Alex said solemnly, though his hand was already sliding up Megan’s thigh while he pulled Georgia into his lap. “Then we’d better make the most of the Greek sun while we have it.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Georgia commanded.
Alex obeyed, pulling her in for a searing kiss that wiped the last of the morning’s doubts away. As his tongue tangled with hers, and Megan’s soft hands began to explore Georgia’s back, Georgia realized something important.
Jealousy was just a shadow. It only existed where you blocked out the light. And right now, between the two of them, she was bathed in sunshine.
“Bedroom,” Georgia gasped, breaking the kiss. “Now. I want to be in the middle again.”
“Your wish,” Megan whispered, nipping at Georgia’s earlobe, “is our very dirty command.”
They moved back inside, leaving the bright terrace behind for the dim, cool sanctuary of the bedroom – not with fear, but with a confidence born from the truth that three, in this specific, sun-drenched moment, was the perfect number.
