Page 14 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

The sex noises continue. It’s like they’re fucking against the bedroom door. They’re that loud. How did that not bother me as much when I was hiding my feelings for him before we got together? I hate him now, and it’s fucking worse.

“You should get some sleep,” Bronx tells me. “I can give you my headphones. They’re noise canceling.”

He reaches across me, which is when I realize he gave me his side of the bed. I roll on my back, flattening myself to the mattress.

The heat and comfort of him when I’m breaking inside all over again is tantalizing. Reaching up, I cup his face and draw it to mine until our lips almost touch.

“Kells Bells.” His voice is a throaty whisper. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?” Riot’s making sure I have a close-up seat to his performance. Why shouldn’t he have to suck it up and deal with the same in return.

“Because it wouldn’t be right.” Still, he doesn’t move and his gaze flicks between my eyes and my lips like he might not care whether it’s right or wrong if I close the gap anyway. “He’s my friend.”

“You’re right.” I want to use him to make myself feel better about what is happening in the other room. I want to punish Riot for being such an asshole. “I want connection and not to feel fucking alone. That’s not a good enough reason.”

I face away from him.

The noises out in the main room escalate.

“You’re my friend too.” He grips my jaw and slams his lips down on mine. For a second, common sense almost reigns. But why should it? Riot and I are beyond over. We’re not even friends anymore. Why can’t I fuck someone else the way he is? Hell, he’s literally having a threesome and making us unwilling participants.

I open my mouth to Bronx and kiss him back. Let him distract me from what is happening in the other room. Quiver when his calloused hand kneads my breast through his shirt and travels down to the hem.

I spread my thighs for Bronx as Riot grunts and moans. Bronx slips his hand inside my panties while my cheating bastard of an ex-everything takes his pleasure in another woman.

Getting on his knees, Bronx peels the sweats and my panties down my thighs and tosses them aside. He positions himself between my legs and runs his fingers along my seam. Digging one digit into my entrance, he eases out and pays attention to my clit.

A memory of Riot hovering above me shoves its way to the forefront of my mind. I slam the door shut on it, focusing on Bronx’s fingers.

My hips rise from the bed, and I give in to the petty in me and moan for his touch. Two can play the game Riot’s playing. When he bends over me and flattens his tongue to lick me from asshole to clit, I wrap my legs around his head and get carried away in how good it feels to be someone’s meal.

Even though Bronx must know I’m using him, he eats my pussy like a real man. Taking his time to build me up, getting me nice and wet with his spit. Not afraid to put his tongue to work or his teeth to my clit. I ride his mouth, my breaths quickening as I get close.

Let Riot have this one last memory... one where his friend got to have me, when he forbade them years ago. Let him remember me this way, screaming out Bronx’s name. Because I’m sure as shit not going to forget the way he glared at me tonight. Or the sound of him fucking someone else. It’s the ideal background track to my memories of finding him and Sonatina together. The perfect reminder of how much of an asshole he is, and how much I hate him now.

“Bronx,” I cry out as I mash Bronx’s face to my pussy. “Holy shit. Oh my God.”

Riot and his groupies are silent.

Bronx lifts his head to lock gazes with me. His mouth glistens with my wetness. His gaze is…satisfied.

A door slams.

The euphoria disappears almost instantly. The guilt is a tidal wave.

“This was a mistake.” I don’t feel better for using Bronx. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged into my issues, even if those issues are with his friend. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He reaches down and hands me my panties and sweats. “I knew what it was. I also knew it was the only way I was ever going to get that close to you. So don’t apologize.”

I get dressed. I should say something. “Maybe if things had been different.”

“Don’t say that. I had no chance back then. And I don’t have one now. But I enjoyed the appetizer anyway. Because I always wondered what you’d taste like.”

My insides get all hot and flustered. “Bronx, I—"

“I knew what it was. He did too. That was the point, wasn’t it?” His jaw tightens slightly. “You want him to know how he makes you feel?”

“I…” Why would I want that? It’s more like I want him to hear that I don’t care about him anymore.