Straight Seduction Therapy

Avery and Freya sat on opposite ends of the couch, silence choking the air like a noose. Years of passion stripped down to routines and dry glances. "I'm tired of watching paint dry every night," Freya snapped. "Fix this, or I walk." Avery’s jaw flexed, and something dangerous stirred behind her eyes. Next evening, the doorbell cut the quiet. In walked Cami Strella, tight jeans and a soft laugh, sweet as danger. Avery shut the door, locked it, and laid out the dare in plain words: "First one who fucks her wins." Freya’s mouth twitched, anger and heat mixing fast. Cami sipped her wine, oblivious, smiling at Avery, then Freya, stepping between their private war. The rules weren't spoken again, but the room crackled like live wire. The competition was on.