(Jinzo's POV)
I couldn't move.
The pink steam rolled over me like a living thing, thick, humid, dripping with the stink of sweat, cum, and so many girls.
It coated my tongue, my throat, my lungs.
I tasted them with every breath.
It was exciting, the kind of smell a man should dream about, but I couldn't enjoy it.
I wasn't the one in the mess, enjoying the girls.
I was Jinzo.
I was the idiot standing in the doorway with his mouth open.
Kai and Hina flanked me like bouncers from hell, arms crossed, smirking.
Behind them, the other girls giggled, pointed, whispered.
No one closed the door, everyone was enjoying the show.
From this side the view was perfect, side-on, no blind spots.
I could see everything my brain refused to admit.
Nash was on the bench, legs spread, abs
shining by who knows how much fluids, his dick jutting up like an angry and slick beast. It had many veins pulsing like ropes, that thing was definitely not a dick, but probably an arm.
