Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Logan
I blink, unsure if I heard her correctly. “I… Huh?”
Salem leans back on her palms and tilts her head. “You’re already halfway there, and I’m bored. I want a show.”
All I can do is stare at her, my more than tipsy brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “What the hell is happening right now?”
Devon tears his calculating gaze from Salem to smirk at me, still noticeably hard behind his jeans. “You heard her. She wants to watch? I'm game.”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “No way. What the fuck?”
“It's not that big of a deal,” Salem shrugs, taking another sip from the nearly empty bottle. “Call me curious.”
I shift on my feet, desperately trying to ignore how much my dick likes that idea. “Not a big deal? You're totally fine watching your husband make out with someone else?”
Her eyes flash with anger. “Not my husband.”
Those three words knock the wind out of me. Hurt and anger clog my throat. I stare at her as something hollow cracks open in my chest. A bone-deep exhaustion lances through me at allowing this woman to hurt me over and over again. “You know what? Fine.”
She wants a show? I'll give her one.
Devon's brows hit his hairline as I drop to his lap again and crush my mouth to his.
It's not slow and tender like before. No, this is just messy and mean and full of all the resentment that's built up in me over the years.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, gripping my hips tight as he kisses me back like we’re trying to outdo each other.
Salem tuts, clicking her tongue before grabbing the whiskey from the floor. “Not like that. I want to see something real.”
I break away from Devon with a wet smack. “What do you mean?”
She yanks my head back by my hair and tips the bottle to my lips. “Drink, but don't swallow. Hold it.”
Jesus.
I obey, cock straining my zipper as she fills my mouth with the last of the whiskey.
“Now.” Setting the empty bottle down, she nudges me toward Dev. “Give him some.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed, the whiskey burning my tongue because what? She wants me to do what?
“Go on,” my wife purrs, petting my hair. “Be a good boy.”
“Fucking do it,” Devon growls, watching me with pupils blown wide, the brown in his irises barely visible. He grinds his length against my ass like he can't get enough.
And I… I lean in.
Clenching his shirt in my fist, I kiss him, this time slower, deeper. He opens for me, and I pour the whiskey between us, letting it spill into his mouth, over our tongues, dripping from the corners of our lips.
He groans again, louder now, and pulls me tighter against him. Unable to help myself, I whimper into his mouth.
It’s filthy.
It’s wrong.
But it's real.
When I finally pull back, breathless and shaking, I glance at Salem. She’s watching us with dark eyes, her chest flushed in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol. Precum bursts from my dick at the knowledge that we're turning her on.
“Better?” I rasp, wiping my chin.
She tilts her head and taps a finger against her cheek. “Almost. Take off Dev's pants.”
Eager to comply, Devon unbuttons his jeans and starts to slide them off, but Salem flicks him right on his broken nose.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouts, clutching at his face.
“I instructed Logan to take off your pants. You sit still.”
Licking my lips nervously, I hook my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug them down. The asshole isn't even wearing underwear, and I have no warning before his huge cock almost pokes me in the eye.
“Jesus,” I breathe, taking in the singular barbell nestled right beneath his thick, swollen tip. My gaze darts to Salem in shock. “You rode that thing?”
She glares at me. “So did you.”
My stomach flips, and I gaze back down at it, watching in fascination as a bead of precum slides down his shaft. “I didn't even see it, honestly. Was too ashamed to look.”
“Don't mind me,” Devon mutters. “I'm just attached to it, but sure, keep ignoring me.”
“Aww, does the wittle douchebag not like being objectified?” Salem rolls her eyes. “Your cock is about the only decent thing you’ve got going for you.”
An emotion sparks in Devon's eyes that has my stomach twisting, but he schools his features into a smirk and slips his mask back into place. “Could say the same for you, sweetheart, because it sure as shit ain't your personality.”
Salem stiffens, spine snapping straight as she curls her lip in disgust. “Says the communal dick working his way through my friends like a group whore.”
That one hurts. I can see it ripple across his face before he turns his head away, and my chest tightens painfully.
“Okay, enough,” I snap. “Jesus, what are we doing here?” Salem opens her mouth, no doubt ready with another barb, but I slice my hand through the air to silence her.
“No more. I'm over it. If we all keep cutting each other just to watch the blood flow, there won’t be anything left. This ends tonight.”
My wife's eyes scan my face like she's searching for weakness, for a softness she can stab into, but I've got nothing more to give. Just a heavy ache in my already battered heart.
Devon doesn’t say anything either; he just stares off into space with his jaw working at the corners.
“I’m tired,” I say quietly. “Tired of being angry. Tired of hurting.”
Tired of setting everything on fire just to feel the burn.
“So, what now?” Dev exhales through his nose before wincing in pain.
I look down at his lap, his half-hard dick twitching beneath the attention. “I just… wanna feel something else for once. Something good.”
A heavy moment passes as the three of us stare at each other, wondering what to do next. The silence stretches long enough to feel unbearable, only the sound of my pulse hammering in my ears.
Finally, Salem sighs and draws her knees up to her chest. “Maybe we should stop this for now.”
Devon's shoulders droop. “And do what instead?”
“Try again when we're sober,” I suggest.
That pulls the tiniest snort out of Salem as she pulls off her sports bra before getting to her feet. “I'm gonna shower. I need to sober up and wash this night off of me.” Pausing in the doorway of the bathroom, she glances back over her shoulder. “You two behave.”
Then she disappears, the soft click of the door leaving me and Dev alone. He gazes at me with no smirk, no more mask. Nothing but tired eyes swirling with too many emotions for me to process.
“Let's lay down,” I murmur, nodding at the pullout behind me. “You’re concussed, remember? We shouldn't have been doing this.”
He raises a brow as his hands lightly find my waist. “You gonna kiss me goodnight?”
I throw him an annoyed look but lean in anyway and dust a gentle touch across his lips. He cups my jaw lightly, making no move to deepen the kiss. Neither do I. Just a press of mouths, soft and quiet. Almost apologetic.
When I pull back, he exhales a shaky breath.
“Night, Dev,” I whisper, standing to let him pull on his pants.
We crawl into bed silently, both of our backs to each other, but I feel the warmth from his body all the same. I feel him there beside me, even if I can't see it.
Once Salem finishes washing up, the mattress dips as she climbs in between us, curling against me. Her clean, cherry-chocolate scent floods my senses, calming every racing thought inside my head.
I know this isn't fixed. We're still broken—all three of us—and I know it's by things I've done. Things I can’t undo.
But for once, I fall asleep without dreading the sunrise.