Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
A sliver of moon hung in the sky, its feeble light barely cut through the haze and as the Uber idled in the parking lot, Devon climbed out of the backseat.
“Let’s roll, boys, this party’s about to get started,” he declared with an easy confidence that radiated from within him like heat off asphalt. He slammed the door with a grin, and his eyes flicked to Ethan. There was a glint of something more beneath his playful exterior. “You good?” he asked, his tone almost intimate.
“Yeah, ready to blow off some steam for sure,” Ethan muttered, forcing a nod.
Brick exploded from the front passenger seat like a cannonball, his laughter booming as he stretched his arms wide. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! Those girls better be here tonight,” he announced, adjusting his cap with a cocky tilt. “I’m in the mood to dance, drink, and get fuckin’ lucky.” He shot them a pointed look, eyebrow raised. “You in?”
Ethan smiled but couldn’t quite muster Brick’s enthusiasm. “Sure, count me in,” he replied with a casual shrug, but even as the words left his mouth, his mind betrayed him by flickering back to Logan.
He’ll take it whether you’re ready or not. Logan’s words echoed in his head, and he clenched his fists, shaking it off with a quick crack of his knuckles.
Fuck him. Logan didn’t get to be his conscience, not anymore.
Devon caught Ethan’s expression and chuckled softly. “So, you gonna find yourself a pretty plaything?” His words were almost teasing as his hand slid down to rest on Ethan’s backside with a light squeeze. “Or… maybe you’re looking for something different tonight?”
Ethan stiffened. “Just here for the drinks,” he said coolly, deliberately putting some space between them.
Devon threw up both hands in mock surrender and laughed. “Whatever you say, brah.” But there was an edge to his smile. “Night’s young—we’ll see.”
Lucy’s loomed ahead like a beast crouched in wait. Pulsating neon lights flickered erratically against the pavement.
Brick let out a triumphant whoop that turned heads, even from across the lot, then threw an arm around Devon’s shoulder and gestured grandly toward the club with an exaggerated flourish. “Here we go, boys—party central!”
His enthusiasm was infectious, and even Ethan couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of excitement stir somewhere deep down.
The entrance was chaos with a long line of bodies pressed together in a writhing mass as they jockeyed for position near the bouncer—a hulking figure with arms like tree trunks and a scar bisecting his upper lip that gave him an almost permanent snarl.
Brick barreled to the front of the line, using his sheer size to part the crowd like Moses while Devon followed close behind, flashing an easy grin that seemed to charm everyone in their path.
The bouncer—who Ethan guessed was either military or an ex-Team guy—barely glanced at their IDs as he fist-bumped them both and waved them through.
Inside, strobe lights sliced through darkness like razor blades, and the music was so loud it was less heard than felt—vibrations rattling ribs and teeth alike. The air was heavy with sweat, perfume, and spilled liquor mingling into one heady cocktail of debauchery.
Brick spotted the girls by the bar, dressed to kill in tight dresses that shimmered under shifting lights like liquid metal, and elbowed Devon in excitement. “Told you they’d be here,” he crowed triumphantly before pointing them out with no subtlety whatsoever.
Ethan followed his gaze silently for a moment before nodding absently. “Guess it really is your lucky night,” he said with little conviction.
Devon leaned in close enough so only Ethan could hear. “What about you?” His voice was low, his fingers insistent as he brushed them against Ethan’s arm, lingering just long enough to make their presence known. “You gonna join Brick’s party? Or stick with mine?”
Ethan stepped up to the bar, not away from Devon exactly, but not toward him either. “I’m gonna grab a drink,” he replied without looking back. “See where the night goes.”
Devon trailed after him like an ever-present shadow that dogged every step Ethan took. “Sounds like a plan,” he murmured, his tone making it clear this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
Ethan ordered a beer, the cold bottle a relief against his palm. He brought the bottle to his lips and took a long pull. The bitter liquid filled his mouth and slid down his throat.
The taste was sharp but familiar, and he embraced the way it numbed the edges of his thoughts.
Around him, chaos reigned. Brick was as loud and unapologetic as ever, gravitating towards a group of women at the bar, he flashed an easy grin that seemed to charm—or maybe annoy—in equal measure.
Devon hovered on the periphery, his broad shoulders tense, his eyes flicking around the room as if mapping every exit.
The music pounded relentlessly, a bass-heavy rhythm that wormed its way into Ethan’s skull until it matched the thud of his pulse. While Logan’s words continued to swirl in his mind, more a ghost of a warning than an actual memory. And yet here he was, handling Devon just fine. He wasn’t some rookie who needed someone to hold his hand. And he certainly didn’t need Logan swooping in to save him.
Cussler’s decision to scrub the mission had been a godsend. Ethan welcomed the extra rack time to sleep off his hangover, but more than that, it spared him days trapped in close quarters with Logan. After their night together, and the wall Logan had thrown up, the idea of a mission with him felt unbearable.
Devon leaned in, murmuring something about shots, and Ethan felt his gut twist. His grip tightened around the beer until his knuckles went white. There was something that set off alarm bells Ethan couldn’t quite ignore. “Shots?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow and forcing a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Are you trying to kill me or what?”
“Oh, c’mon, man,” Devon said, clapping Ethan on the back with enough force to make him lurch forward slightly. “One shot won’t kill you. Hell, I’ve seen you put away worse.”
“Yeah,” Ethan swallowed the nausea clawing its way up his throat. “And look where that got me.” But Devon either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore it.
They descended into the club, down sticky steps onto the packed dance floor below. Bodies pressed in from every side: strangers grinding together in time with the music, arms flailing wildly under flashing lights that painted their faces like some surreal battlefield.
Brick led the charge with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball, elbows out and shoulders squared as he carved a path to the bar at the back.
Ethan followed reluctantly. Spiting Logan felt like a good idea back at the bar when everything seemed simpler, but now… Now he felt like he was walking in quicksand.
The booth was an oasis amidst the chaos: red leather glossy beneath the flickering lights. Devon was at Ethan’s side, steering him toward an empty seat. “Sit,” he said, not quite an order, but close enough that Ethan complied without argument.
“I’ll grab some drinks,” Brick hollered before disappearing into the crowd.
Devon settled back against the seat and sprawled out like he owned the place. One arm draped across the backrest casually while his legs stretched wide beneath the table.
He looked completely at ease here, as if this kind of scene was second nature to him. His head bobbed faintly in time with the music; eyes half-closed, savoring every beat.
He cracked his eyes open, a lazy smile curling his lips as he caught Ethan staring. “You okay?”
It wasn’t until now that Ethan really noticed just how massive he was. Sure, he’d known Devon was big, but up close… it hit differently, and every inch of him seemed to be carved from solid stone.
He tried not to stare but failed miserably, and when Devon turned those sharp eyes on him, suddenly it took everything he had not to flinch. “You know, I probably shouldn’t have come. I’m still feeling rough from last night.”
“Nonsense,” Devon continued, his tone shifting to something playful as he rested his elbows on the table and leaned in, blurring the lines between casual and intimate. “What you need is to relax and be yourself. No one’s judging you here. You can be what you want. Like who you like… Anything goes.”
His hand slid across the table, landing on Ethan’s leg, rubbing it up and down—strong fingers groping extremely close to his groin.
Ethan’s eyes darted to the bar, heart kicking up. “Yeah, I’m not sure I can. I mean...” He nodded subtly toward Brick.
“Brick’s cool. He’s your buddy, I doubt he’d judge.” His fingers tightened slightly, a gesture that felt equal parts reassuring and possessive. “Hell, the guy’s probably seen weirder shit than you liking guys.” He moved closer. “Just relax.”
Ethan squirmed uncomfortably, trying to ignore how warm and solid Devon’s hand felt against him. “Yeah, well…” His voice came out quieter than intended, “I’d rather you didn’t make it so obvious in front of him. I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation tonight.”
For a moment, there was silence between them, a charged pause that seemed to stretch longer than it should have. Then Devon tilted his head as if considering something deeply amusing. “Well,” he said finally, drawing out the word as his gaze flicked over Ethan with deliberate slowness. “Looks like Brick’s gonna be occupied anyway.”
Ethan followed Devon’s gaze toward the bar. His stomach sank slightly at what he saw. The two girls from last night—Abbey and Lisa—had reappeared as if magically summoned.
Their glossy hair and tight dresses made them stand out, their high-pitched laughter cutting through the ambient noise like nails on glass. Abbey wasted no time draping herself over Brick, manicured hands roaming over his chest while Lisa clung to his arm, giggling like he’d told the funniest joke in the world.
Brick grinned under their attention, balancing the tray of shot glasses without spilling a drop as they tugged him toward the booth like they owned him, or they just wanted him to own them.
Ethan tensed as they approached, forcing a weak smile when Brick finally looked over and winked—a casual gesture that felt strangely loaded under the circumstances. “So,” he bellowed as he slid into the booth with Abbey practically glued to his side. “Ladies… what d’you say to some drinkin’ and dancin’, then back to mine for a party?”
Abbey let out an exaggerated laugh that bordered on shrill as she pressed herself against Brick and kissed him sloppily enough to make Ethan wince.
“Sounds good to me,” she purred, “I loved last night.” Her grin widened wickedly as she trailed one of those perfectly manicured nails down Brick’s arm suggestively. “Hey,” she suddenly said, feigning innocence so poorly it was almost comical. “Are your friends joining in tonight?”
Lisa perked up at this, her gaze snapping to Devon with renewed interest as she tilted her head coyly. “Are you two a couple?”
The question hit Ethan like a slap in the face and he sat up straighter instinctively as heat rushed to his face.
“Um… no.” He stammered before clearing his throat and trying again—louder this time, but no less flustered. “No way. What makes you think that?” His hands dropped into his lap as if trying to put distance between himself and whatever assumptions Lisa might be making.
Devon raised a brow and leaned against the booth seat, a picture of unbothered confidence if there ever was one, and flashed Lisa one of those smiles that could probably charm its way out of a police ticket. “Oh, I’m up for anything, honey.”
She smiled, crossing her legs, skirt riding so high that she nearly flashed her panties. “Well, then...” She grabbed a shot and downed it in one. Her cleavage strained against her tight red dress, and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip before adding, “Looks like we’re in for a great night.”
Brick shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his broad shoulders tensing. He felt heat creeping up his neck, not from embarrassment, but a flicker of unease that wouldn’t settle. His eyes darted to Ethan, who sat stiffly on the opposite side, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
“I’ll grab more shots,” Devon announced, pushing out of his seat. He slapped Brick’s shoulder lightly and asked with a laugh, “What d’you say, we all party at yours after?”
Brick hesitated for a second, then grabbed one of the remaining shots and tossed it back. “Yeah, sure.” Unease filled his face. Sure, he liked Devon—well, enough to invite him over for beers or to watch some dumb action movie when there was nothing else going on—but his suggestion felt very different to that.
He glanced at the girls: Abbey with her dark curls and infectious laugh that made guys trip over themselves to get her attention, and Lisa… Lisa had sharp cheekbones and even sharper tongue. They were fun—wild in all the right ways—and if things did get crazy… well, Brick wasn’t exactly opposed to that.
A threesome wasn’t off the table, but not when dudes were involved.
Devon’s vibe was hard to pin down. One minute he was charming, the next sly. Brick side-eyed Ethan. Was there something between them? And was Ethan part of whatever it was Devon had planned for tonight?
He grabbed another shot to drown out the thought.
The tequila went down like fire and he winced through the burn. “Jeez, man,” he said with a laugh that sounded forced even to his own ears. “This stuff’s gross.”
Abbey and Lisa followed suit, their laughter spilling over each other as they slammed their glasses back onto the table.
“Not having yours?” Lisa asked Ethan, raising a brow.
Ethan blinked like he hadn’t heard her at first. Then he shook his head quickly. “Not for me,” he said quietly. “Think I’m gonna head off soon. I’m not feeling it tonight.”
“Awww.” She pouted dramatically, then slid across the booth to fill Devon’s now-empty space beside him.
Her hand landed high enough on Ethan’s thigh to make him flinch. Her perfume—a heady mix of vanilla and something floral—wrapped around him like a second skin. “I was looking forward to getting some action with you and your friend,” she teased, biting her lip just enough to draw attention to how full and soft they looked. She then tilted her head so her mouth brushed lightly against his ear and added, “I love watching two guys together… I think it’s really hot.” Her fingers traced slow circles against his jeans. “You don’t seem up for this party?”
Before Ethan could answer, or figure out how to extricate himself without causing a scene, Devon returned with a tray in hand and smirk firmly in place.
“Lady wants to know if you’re up for it,” he drawled as he set down more shots than anyone could reasonably handle in one night. He plucked one from the tray and handed it directly to Ethan, as if daring him not to take it.
Brick smiled, but doubt gnawed at him. Ethan looked anxious, not eager.
“You wanna dance?” Abbey asked, snagging Brick’s cap and plopping it on her head as she raked her fingers through his hair. “C’mon… let’s dance!”
“Oh, baby,” Brick groaned as Abbey straddled his lap and started grinding her hips against him.
Her movements were relentless, and the hard line of his arousal was painfully obvious, the denim of his jeans doing little to hide just how much he wanted her.
His fingers tightened on her hips, digging into the soft curve of her flesh, but she had all the control and her dark eyes glinted as she worked him over. “You like to dance with me?” Her voice was a sultry whisper just for him.
Brick tipped his head back against the bench, clenching his jaw as he let out another groan. “Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Girl, you’re killin’ me here.” He needed to move—needed to do something before he lost all semblance of control right there. “Okay, let’s go dance.”
Across the table, Lisa tilted her head toward Ethan, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable as he tried not to stare at Abbey and Brick’s increasingly heated display. “So...” she began, drawing out the word as her eyes flickered between Ethan and Devon. “You wanna dance too?”
Ethan shook his head quickly, holding up a hand as if to ward off the suggestion. “Uh... no, I’m good. Thanks.” His tone was tight. “Dancing is not my thing.”
Devon’s hand slid further up his thigh, bold and unrelenting. His fingers pressed firmly against the tense muscle just above Ethan’s knee before moving higher still, massaging with a deliberate pressure that left no room for misinterpretation.
“No,” he interjected, cutting off whatever excuse Ethan might have been about to offer. “Sorry, honey, he’s still hungover.” He flashed Lisa a grin that was both charming and cocky. Grabbing one of the shots lined up on the table, he thrust it into Ethan’s hand. “Here, get that down you. You’ll feel better.”
Ethan reluctantly took the drink then immediately regretted it and set it back down on the table. “I don’t feel so good.” He shoved Devon’s hand away from his leg.
Devon didn’t seem fazed by the rejection, leaning closer until their faces were only inches apart. “You feel good to me,” he purred.
Lisa watched all of this unfold, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as her eyes sparkled with interest. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her hand as if settling in for an entertaining show.
“So,” Devon’s voice cut through, smooth yet deliberate, as he redirected her attention back to him. His smirk was lazy but practiced, the kind that suggested he was used to getting what he wanted. “What’s your name?”
“Lisa,” she breathed, her tone husky and laced with a promise. Her lips curved into a slow smile, one that could have melted steel.
“Well, Lisa ,” Devon continued as his hand reached out, a finger grazing her jawline, tracing the delicate curve with a touch meant to claim rather than caress. “You wanna party with me and Ethan?”
Lisa let out a soft, high-pitched and girlish giggle, which was undeniably suggestive, the kind of laugh that teased without needing to say more. Her teeth caught her bottom lip for a moment before releasing it as she nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Sure do,” she said finally, her grin widening to reveal perfect pearly white teeth.
Devon tilted his head, studying her reaction like an artist admiring his own masterpiece. “You ever done it with two guys?” he asked, his tone blunt and challenging, as if daring her to shock him.
Lisa shrugged one shoulder playfully, the motion causing the strap of her tank top to slip slightly down her arm. “Uh-uh,” she replied, leaning closer. “Usually it’s me and Abbey with a guy. But...” Her gaze flickered briefly to Ethan before settling back on Devon. “I really like the idea, especially with the two of you.”
Before Ethan could fully grasp what was happening or even process what Lisa said, Devon’s hands shot out, yanking him sideways as if claiming possession. He then smashed their mouths together in a kiss that was more force than passion, his tongue plunging past Ethan’s lips without invitation.
Ethan stiffened in shock, his hands instinctively coming up to push at Devon’s chest. He found no leverage against the man’s iron grip.
Devon didn’t break eye contact with Lisa once during the kiss; instead, his gaze burned into hers like a performance made for her benefit alone.
Her reaction was immediate and visceral as she squirmed in her seat unable to contain herself, her thighs pressing together beneath the table while a flush crept up her neck. She bit down hard on her lower lip before letting out a soft moan that bordered on indecent. “Mmmm…” she shifted position, as if seeking friction against something unseen. “Oh, God…” she added with a throaty laugh, “you two are so freakin’ hot.”
“Come here,” Devon commanded, his voice carrying an edge of authority that left little room for argument. He grabbed Lisa by the wrist and tugged her toward him until she was perched precariously between him and Ethan on the vinyl booth seat.
Ethan’s mind raced. That kiss was forceful and unwanted, and it left him reeling in ways he hadn’t expected or prepared for. He didn’t want this, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to get up and leave before things spiraled further out of control. And yet... he stayed rooted to his seat.
Devon wasted no time diving back into action. His mouth found Lisa’s, devouring her in a kiss so deep it seemed almost theatrical in its intensity. But even as his hands roamed over her body, one sliding up under her shirt while the other gripped at her hip possessively, his eyes kept darting over her shoulder to Ethan.
His hand crept across Lisa’s lap and landed firmly on Ethan’s thigh instead of hers. The touch wasn’t gentle, it was insistent and demanding, and when his fingers began massaging upward, Ethan felt panic rise like bile in his throat. He didn’t want this—not Lisa, not a threesome, and most certainly not Devon’s roughness.
Logan’s touch haunted him, but it was soft and tender, a world apart from this aggressive grip now squeezing his groin.
“I—uh…” he stammered, bolting upright so fast he nearly knocked over his drink in the process. “Sorry, I need the head,” he blurted out before making a hasty retreat without waiting for permission.
Behind him, Devon’s amused chuckle followed, “If you need a hand in there…”
Ethan didn’t stop walking, in fact, he quickened his pace until he reached the restroom door and pushed inside.