Copyright

Copyright © 2026 by Brenda Brainjack

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

The Party Trick

The sun was almost gone when James and Luna Adams rolled their SUV up the Kane family's long driveway. Dust swirled in the headlights, the last bit of sunlight catching on it. Luna tugged at her pale blue sundress, the one she wore because it was easy to drive in, not because it clung to her tits or ass. But as soon as she stepped out into the sticky, pine-scented air, she felt naked. It had been months since she'd felt this on display.

James came around the car, his hand automatically finding the small of her back. “You okay?” he asked, voice low, the same gentle concern he’d carried since they started dating eight years ago.

“Fine,” she said, smiling up at him. “Just glad we’re here. It’s been too long.”

They were supposed to come every year, but jobs, the house, and the usual bullshit had kept them away. This year felt off. Maybe it was hitting thirty-something and realizing time was running out. Or maybe it was Luna catching herself staring at James's shoulders and wondering why they didn't do anything for her anymore.

Laughter spilled off the porch—cousins, aunts, uncles, the whole mess. The Kanes, James's side, took up most of the space: big, broad-shouldered Black men who looked like they could break you in half, laughing loud, their women hanging on their arms. Luna's family was smaller, quieter, forgettable. Except for Bennet Racom, her mom's nephew, who always showed up like he was the main event.

They were barely through the front door before Bennet found them.

“Luna-bug,” he drawled, arms wide. He smelled faintly of expensive cologne and bourbon. “Still the prettiest thing in any room.”

She laughed, hugging him, noticing his hands lingered a second too long at her waist. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you.” His dark eyes flicked over her, appreciative but not leering. “James,” he said, extending a hand. “Keeping her happy?”

“Trying,” James answered, smiling easily. He’d always liked Bennet, even if the man had a way of making every conversation feel like a performance.

Dinner dragged on, loud as hell, plates of ribs and greasy corn getting passed around. Luna drank too much wine, her face hot. She kept sneaking glances at Marcus Kane across the table—James's cousin, built like a linebacker who'd gotten even bigger after football. Thick arms, a laugh that shook the table, his shirt stretched tight over his chest every time he reached for something. Luna looked away, her heart thumping, her thighs pressing together under the table.

After the tables were cleared, everyone moved to the big living room with its stone fireplace and wide windows overlooking the dark lake. Someone had started a playlist—old soul, low bass. Glasses clinked. Bennet stood in the center of the room, shirtsleeves rolled, sleeves of tattoos showing on his forearms.

“Alright,” he called, clapping once. “Who’s up for a little entertainment?”

Groans and laughter. Bennet was famous for his “party tricks.” Card illusions, mind-reading games, and the occasional bad magic act. Tonight, he held up both hands.

“Nothing dangerous. Just hypnosis. Harmless. Who wants to be my volunteer?”

Eyes turned to Luna. She felt the attention heat her skin.

“Come on, Luna-bug,” Bennet coaxed. “You’ve got the perfect face for it. Innocent. Trusting. Everyone loves watching the innocent ones go under.”

James chuckled beside her. “She’s game if you are, babe.”

Luna hesitated, her heart pounding. The wine made everything fuzzy, and with everyone staring, she stood up. She wasn't about to be the prude in the room.

The family clapped. Bennet guided her to the center of the rug, facing the semicircle of chairs and sofas. He pulled an ottoman over for her to sit on.

“Just relax,” he said, voice dropping into that smooth, practiced cadence he used when he was performing. “Eyes on me. That’s it. Deep breath in… and out.”

Luna followed. His eyes were very dark, almost black in the low lamplight. She felt the room recede a little.

“I’m going to count down from ten,” he continued. “Each number takes you deeper. Ten… nine… feeling your shoulders soften… eight… eyelids growing heavy but staying open for now… seven…”

Her breathing slowed. The voices blurred, just background hum. Bennet’s words wrapped around her like warm water.

“When I reach one, you’ll be completely relaxed. Safe. Open. And you’ll feel a pleasant warmth spreading through your body. Starting in your chest. Moving lower. Between your thighs. A gentle, insistent heat. Every time you hear the word crave, that warmth will flare brighter. Each time you see one of the Kane men—Marcus, Darius, Roland—the heat will pulse. You’ll feel drawn to them. Curious. Aroused. You won’t fight it. You’ll enjoy it. You’ll want to flirt. Touch. Be touched. And you’ll feel no guilt. Only excitement.”

Luna's mouth fell open. She felt it right away—a hot, needy ache in her belly, spreading down between her legs. Her nipples went hard, poking through the thin dress. She should have been embarrassed, but all she felt was a dirty, hungry curiosity.

Bennet turned slightly. “James. Your turn.”

James stood, laughing a little nervously. “Alright, hit me.”

Bennet repeated the countdown, slower this time. When James’s eyes glazed, Bennet leaned in close.

“You love being the perfect host tonight, James. Every time someone needs a drink, food, or a chair, you’re there before they ask. You feel proud when Luna gets attention—especially from the Kane men. It makes you hard. You want to watch. You want to help. After they’ve had her, you’ll want to clean up. Taste what they left. It will feel right. Natural. You’ll thank them for using her. And you’ll thank her for letting them.”

James’s breathing deepened. A flush crept up his neck.

Bennet stepped back. “On three, both of you will wake up feeling refreshed. Refreshed and… eager. One. Two. Three.”

Luna blinked. The room swam back into focus for her. She felt warm all over, skin tingling, and as she crossed her legs, she noticed the dampness and heat between her thighs. Her cheeks burned—every sensation amplified.

James was already moving toward the bar cart. “Anyone need a refill?”

Marcus lifted his glass. “Yeah, man. Bourbon, neat.”

James poured the bourbon, trying to look calm, but Luna saw his hands shake and the way his eyes kept flicking over to her, hungry and nervous.

Bennet clapped his hands. “See? Easy. They’re both naturals.”

The room laughed. Luna faked a smile, stood up, and tugged her dress down. The fabric scraped over her stiff nipples, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

She drifted over to the window, pretending to care about the lake. In the glass, she caught Marcus staring at her, not even bothering to hide it. His eyes were slow, heavy, like he was already undressing her. Her stomach twisted, heat pooling between her legs.

Bennet appeared at her elbow, voice pitched for her ears alone.

“Crave,” he murmured.

The heat between her legs exploded, so sharp she almost whimpered. She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for any relief.

He smiled, small and knowing, then walked away.

Across the room, James handed Marcus his drink. Their fingers brushed. Marcus said something low. James laughed quickly, glancing at Luna—his pupils wide.

Luna turned back to the dark glass, breath shallow.

She could feel Marcus's eyes burning into her back, heavy as a hand, making her skin prickle and her pussy throb.

And this was just the start.