35. Torren
35
TORREN
I feel the moment he enters her.
Slowly, pausing only briefly to add more lube, he pushes in, only the thin barrier between her pussy and her ass separating his cock from mine. Jonah’s eyes are trained on her ass, watching himself disappear into her. I know how erotic and dizzying that view can be. I’m jealous he gets to experience it before I do, but her pussy is mine. Only mine. The low, long moan that escapes Callie vibrates through her whole body, increasing my pleasure. Driving me crazy.
“Fuck me,” Jonah says on a groan.
Callie’s pussy tightens, adjusting to the fullness, accepting our cocks inside her. She buries her head in my shoulder again. Her panting breaths warm then cool my sweat-slicked skin, and I hold her closer. I kiss her hair and whisper in her ear.
“You’re doing so fucking good. You’re taking us so fucking well.”
She whimpers in response. When Jonah is fully seated, he stills, giving her a moment to relax. I know the pause is just as much for him and me. Callie’s tight, warm, soaking wet pussy is almost too much. I want to savor it. I want to ink this moment into my memory, onto my skin. The feeling of her. The absolute perfection that is my Firebird.
“I can feel just how full you are. Stretched so tight, both holes taken care of. So, so good, baby.”
I flick my eyes to Jonah after a moment and find him looking at me, eyes hooded and chest heaving. He nods once, then slowly we start to pulse, alternating our rhythm, moving our cocks back and forth. Inside her and against each other.
Jo’s mouth falls open and his eyes clamp shut. Callie and I moan, the sounds in perfect harmony. When Jonah speeds up, elongating his strokes and pulling out a little farther just to shove back in, Callie lets out a strangled gasp.
“Oh god.”
“ Gods , baby,” I correct. “There’s two of us fucking you. Two cocks driving you crazy.”
A small smirk turns up Jonah’s lips, then I speed up my own thrusts. I jab my hips upward, hitting Callie deeper, and her pussy spasms. The orgasm hits her fast and hard. Her nails dig into my skin, the pain igniting pleasure, shooting straight to my dick. When she sinks her teeth into my shoulder, I almost come with her, and she lets out a muffled scream.
“Don’t you dare,” Jonah growls. “I want to fucking hear it.”
He folds himself over her body, wraps his hand around her throat, and pulls her up. Her back arches, her hands sinking into the bed to support her body. It puts her breasts directly in front of my face, and I take a peaked nipple between my teeth. I bite and suck, tasting our sweat. I feel her pussy fluttering around my cock with every alternating thrust from Jo and me.
Jonah speeds up a little more, and just like he wanted, Callie lets out another strangled cry. I can tell from the sound that he’s not choking her, but I know how badly he wants to. He’s holding back for her, for me, and it’s a testament to how much care he’s putting into this moment.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Calla Lily,” Jonah grunts out, then he makes eye contact with me. “You should see how sexy her ass looks all stretched around my cock. Her pussy fucking swollen and dripping around yours.”
He spits, releasing his hold on her hip to rub the saliva onto his shaft as he fucks her ass. Then he reaches down and circles his fingers around my cock, rubbing her pussy lips and gathering her arousal to rub on his dick as well. He spits again, then slaps Callie’s ass. She yelps, her pussy clenching hard around my cock, and Jonah and I both groan.
“Again,” I say, and he slaps her ass once more, making her clench harder .
“God. Damn. It.” Jonah punctuates each word with another slap. “No wonder you like doing this, Tor. Red fucking handprints on this perfect ass. The way it jiggles. Fuck, I want to come all over it.”
The visual of his red handprints painted with glistening white cum makes my stomach tighten. My own release looms just as Callie’s pussy starts to spasm once more.
“You gonna give us another one, Firebird?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
We fuck her hard. Her body quakes above me as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and whimpers with every thrust of our cocks. A gorgeous cadence. The sexiest fucking song.
“Give it,” I growl. “Fucking give it to me.”
She comes with another scream, clawing up her throat, rasping and breathless, and I come with her. My groan sounds almost pained in my ears, but it’s the exact opposite. It’s bliss. It’s ecstasy. My chest rumbles, and my whole body jerks with each spurt of cum into the condom. Then, just as Callie’s muscles start to loosen, Jonah releases his grip on her neck, and she collapses on top of me. It gives me the perfect view as Jonah pulls his cock out of her ass, rips off the condom, and shoots ropes of cum all over her backside with a roar of his own. Red handprints on her ass from his slaps, on her hips and waist from his punishing grip, and painted with white. He jerks himself until there’s nothing left, then he falls to the bed beside us.
“Mother fuck,” Jonah groans.
I turn my head to face him, but I don’t let go of Callie as she pants heavily on top of me. Jonah has one hand sprawled on his chest, the other still stroking his cock, and he’s staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
“You sure we can’t do that again? Cause that was?—”
“Don’t even try it,” I growl, cutting him off.
He turns to me with a trouble-making grin, bigger than I’ve seen in a while, and it almost makes me reconsider. Almost .
“Can’t blame me for askin’.”
I shake my head at him and press a kiss to Callie’s head. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my body has been lit on fire. Like my bones and lungs are ash. Completely consumed.”
I drag my fingers up and down her side. “That a good or bad thing. ”
She releases a tired laugh. “The best thing.”
I hum and listen as her breathing starts to calm, and Jonah’s grows deeper.
“Hey, Jo.”
“Hmm?”
“What was my nickname?” Callie tenses at my question, and I can tell she’s listening closely. I specify, so she knows for certain what I’m referencing. “For the game. What was the nickname I used?”
Jonah snorts. “Sugar. Fucking lame.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t respond. Instead, I put my lips to her ear and repeat the truth. I say it slowly, clearly, and I mean every fucking word.
“You were always different, Firebird. You have always been more.”
Hours later, in the moonlit darkness of my hotel room, I’m coaxed awake by soft lips on my neck and a delicate hand stroking my cock.
It’s quiet except for Jonah’s deep, heavy breathing, and I tighten my hold on Callie. I kiss her deeply, growling into her mouth as my cock hardens between her slender fingers. Her tongue caresses my tongue, gentle and soft and warm.
Slowly, she hooks her leg over my hip, lining me up with her pussy. The head of my cock nudges her entrance, and I have to swallow back a groan. She’s soaked and ready. She must be aching. She wraps her hand around my dick again and swipes it through her pussy lips, teasing her clit with a quiet gasp. I pull back and hold her gaze, the thin ring of green around her pupils almost glowing as my eyes adjust to the dark room.
“I’m not wearing a condom.”
She shakes her head once, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I want to feel all of you.”
For half a second, panic threatens to seize me. I force a swallow down my tightened throat. I haven’t had sex without a condom in years. Sex without a condom moves past fucking, and just the idea of it stokes the pain of vulnerability I’ve buried deep in my chest, as far away from my heart as possible.
It’s another wall reduced to rubble. Another shield pierced .
Then her lips press to mine gently, and her warm, safe touch erases every fear. I nod and let her guide my dick inside her. She kisses me again, muffling our twin moans as she begins to move. Our bodies stay pressed together, making slow, steady, deep strokes, careful not to make too much noise. Not to jostle the mattress and wake up our slumbering bed partner.
“This is all I will ever need,” I confess between kisses. “Just you. Only you.”
She doesn’t respond. She just kisses me again, moving on me languidly. Lazily.
As if we have all the time in the world.
“So, she’s not coming back, then?”
Sav arches an eyebrow as we wait backstage. I shrug and flick my gaze to Jonah.
“As long as Jo doesn’t run her off, she’s staying on our bus.”
She purses her lips, eyes narrowed as she runs them over my face. “Is that wise?”
I sigh. “I know what I’m doing.”
“She’s here on a contract. She’s being paid to be here. I like her, too, but I want to make sure?—”
“Savannah. Stop. I know you feel like you have to be some sort of guardian over us now, but you gotta fucking trust me.”
I whisper the words, but they sound more like a hiss with the anger simmering behind them. It threatens to boil when she rolls her eyes.
“I know how you are, Torren. I know how you get. I just don’t want your heart broken again.”
I choke out a laugh, humor and pain blending to form a menacing sound.
“Callie’s not you, Savannah.”
She jerks back as if I hit her. “Torren, I just?—”
“You just find it hard to believe anyone could actually love me since you couldn’t, right?”
Her jaw drops on a scoff. “You know for a fucking fact that’s not what I’m saying.” She shakes her head and takes a step back just as we receive our cue to take the stage. “Fuck you, Torren. I’m sorry for fucking caring .”
She whips around, hair fanning wildly about her shoulders, and folds her arms. I bite my tongue on the impulse to argue. She’s right. I do know that’s not what she meant, but learned instincts die hard, especially when they’re born from trauma.
When Jonah walks on stage, I follow suit, sticking to the order we’ve used since the beginning. Mabel, Jonah, me, then Sav. Sometimes, like now, it stings, and I wonder if it would hurt less if we didn’t have such a turbulent past. Probably not. Sav is the one people want to see. She’s the one people idolize. She’s the one people put on a pedestal.
It doesn’t bother me out of jealousy. It bothers me because I used to be one of those people. I knew all her flaws, all her demons, and I loved her still. I accepted her as she was, I idolized her, and I put her on such an unrealistic pedestal that it shattered me when she fell short.
I regret it. Not because of what it did to my heart, but because of what it did to us. I know I’m lucky we’ve made it this far, given the aftermath. We could have drowned in our toxicity. Our decisions could have ruined us, but the fact that we’re still here gives me hope.
When Sav takes her place behind her mic, I train my eyes on her. I stare hard willing her to turn around so I can apologize. I know she can feel it just like I know she’s ignoring me, and that makes me feel worse. Family looks out for each other. That’s what she was doing. Instead of being grateful, I spit vitriol in her face.
“How are we doin’ tonight, New York?”
Sav’s voice echoes through the stadium, and the crowd screams in response, none of them noticing the heaviness in her tone. None of them hear the dejection. But I’ve known her for ten years, so I hear it. I know, at the very least, Mabel and Ham can hear it, too. Fuck .
It’s like two steps forward, one step back. Just when something starts to work in one aspect of my life, I let my insecurities fuck up something else. For all of Sav’s flaws, she didn’t deserve what I just threw at her. She’s the one people idolize, but she’s also the one that gets the most hate. Tabloids print vile lies about her. Paps shout disgusting things at her. She has a fucking psychotic stalker, for Christ’s sake. She doesn’t fucking need it from me, too. Especially when she was just looking out for me .
My stomach roils for the duration of the show. Sav won’t even glance my way. She doesn’t interact with me. The songs we usually sing together are spent firmly planted in front of our own mics. The only time I feel peace is when I play Callie’s song, but when it’s over, my anxiety spikes again.
When I start to feel myself spiral, I seek out Callie in the VIP tent. I fix my eyes on her and she becomes my anchor. She quiets the storm in my head, and that’s how I know for sure. What’s happening between us is something real. Something solid. We’re not headed for heartbreak. We’re not dissonance. We’re harmony, and I have to let myself trust it.
By the end of the show, my head is clear, and I’m determined to make things right with Savannah. At the very least, I need to apologize. We’re finally starting to patch up our friendship. I don’t want to torpedo it with an unwarranted temper tantrum.
When Sav stalks off the stage, I follow quickly, pulling her to the side just out of view of the stadium full of people.
“ What , Tor?”
Her voice is tired. There is so much less bite to her words than there was two hours ago, and I hate knowing I’m part of the reason for it.
“We need to talk,” I say, wrapping my hand around her wrist and pulling her down one of the hallways full of roadies and stadium workers.
I try two locked doors before I find a bathroom and drag her inside. She sighs and closes her eyes.
“I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“I’m sorry, Sav. I know I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head, nostrils flaring as she breathes deeply. Her forehead creases and her eyebrows slant, but she keeps those stormy gray eyes clamped shut. When she speaks, her voice shakes with hurt, and all I feel is shame.
“I’ve turned myself inside out trying to make up for the shit I’ve done, Torren. I’m doing everything I can to repair the damage. I’ve got my hands clutched so tightly around this band that sometimes I worry I’ll snap us in half, but I can’t keep doing it. I’m not going to keep fighting if you’re never going to forgive me. ”
“I know.”
My stomach clenches as a single tear slips from her lashes and trickles down her cheek. I fist my hands against the impulse to wipe it away. Her jaw ticks as she clenches her teeth, and when she speaks again, there’s anger in her tone.
“At some point, you’re going to have to recognize that I’m not the only one to blame for this fucking mess, but I’m the only one making any fucking attempt to pull us out of it.”
It’s the truth, and it fucking hurts. “I know, Sav.”
She opens her eyes and pins me with a scathing glare.
“I like Callie, Torren. She’s talented and she’s smart. I’m still going to talk to her about Caveat Lover, but Heartless will always be my top priority. I won’t just stand by and watch quietly while you?—”
“It’s not like that, Savvy.” I take a step forward and hold her gaze. “This is different. When I said she’s not you, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I didn’t mean to imply that you were the only one to blame for our relationship imploding. Fuck, we were so toxic. Both of us. I know that. You and I were completely wrong for each other, and I was an idiot for not believing you the first time you realized it. For not listening when you said it a hundred more times after that. But Callie...Callie’s not you because she’s perfect for me .”
Sav’s eyes flash with surprise before she scans my face. It’s as if she’s looking for any sign that I’m being delusional—that I’m imagining connections that aren’t there—and I want to laugh. I give her a self-deprecating smile instead.
“Thank you for wanting to protect me—for wanting to protect our family—but I need you to trust me, here. I’m fucking in love with her, Savannah, and I know it’s real this time. You know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because it’s nothing like us.”
She holds my gaze as we fall into silence, and I watch as the frown on her face slowly smooths out. From raging defensiveness to placid relief. Then she huffs out a laugh and tilts her head to the ceiling. “Thank fucking god.”
A smile spreads across my lips, and this time I let myself laugh, too. In an instant, the hazy gloom that had surrounded us lifts, and we’re no longer dueling ex-lovers. We’re friends. We’re family. We’re adults who have learned from our mistakes and come out stronger. In this instance, the ground under my feet solidifies a little more, and so does my faith in myself.
“God, we were such a fucking mess,” Sav groans after a moment, swiping a hand through her hair. “How the fuck did we not see it sooner?”
I snort. “Drugs and desperation?”
“Probably.” Sav sighs, her face softening as she makes eye contact with me once more. “I’m rooting for us, you know? Me. You. Mabes and Jo. I’m rooting for us.”
“I know. Me too.”
“I really hope it works out with Callie.”
I smile. “I have a good feeling about it.”
I gesture to the door and Sav nods, turning to leave. I follow her back into the hallway and we walk side by side to the dressing rooms.
“I’m glad you’re still going to talk to her,” I say just before we part ways.
“Don’t think it was your idea. It was my idea. You just cosigned.”
“Whatever, Savvy,” I tease.
“Whatever, Tor.”
She smirks and flips me her middle finger, then backs into the dressing room and shuts the door in my face. Everything about the exchange makes me smile. The playfulness. The ease. The honesty.
We’re going to be okay. I know it.