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I shoot down Arya’s throat, my release flooding her mouth and trickling out of the corners of her lips. Dev’s arm holds me steady, his fingers digging into my ass through the orgasm. By the time it ends, I'm sagging against the side of the RV, gasping for air.

My dick slips free, still half hard, and I watch Dev jerk off onto Arya's tongue as I catch my breath. She's still touching herself, so fucking beautiful with mascara and lipstick smeared across her face. When Devon comes, he makes the sexiest sound, a soft moan that has my cock twitching back to life. Thick ropes of cum land on my girl’s face, coating her lips and chin. I hyperfocus on it, my mouth watering, and when he finally finishes, there's only one thought on my mind—I want a fucking taste.

“Come here, bebe.” Bending down, I lift her into my arms, feeling how wet she is when her legs wrap around my waist. Immediately, I dive for her mouth, licking at the cum on her lips before plunging my tongue between them.

She moans, rubbing against my hardening dick. The salty taste of Dev’s release has me wanting to slide inside her, have her ride me while he fucking watches.

When I open my eyes to do just that, though, he's… gone. No longer next to me.

Peering over Arya's shoulder, I catch his back, the cherry from a cigarette bouncing in the dark as he walks away without a word.

That motherfucker.

My boner instantly deflates, and Arya follows my angry gaze, her brows pinching in worry. “Did we upset him?”

“No,” I say firmly, placing a finger on her chin as I turn her face for another kiss. “You were fucking gorgeous, mi reina. Eres tan buena conmigo. Now, let's get inside the RV so I can eat you out before everyone ruins our fun.”

Smacking her ass, I carry her toward the flimsy metal steps as she giggles, lips vibrating against mine. The taste of her lipstick has faded, but the salt remains, Devon's cum still layering her tongue.

As I set her onto our lumpy mattress and drop between her legs, I savor the taste of him before it's gone, still pissed off that he just left me.

Us. Left us. Left Arya after doing all of that. Fucking dick. Even Taylor had the decency to stay and chill after we shared chicks in the past.

Arya grips my hair as she rides my face, and I fucking hate that he's the one on my mind right now instead of her. Dev won't get away with this shit.

He wants to treat me—um, us—like a quick fuck? Asshole has another thing coming.

Pun in–fucking–tended.

Chapter Four

Devon

This shit fucking sucks. I don't even know why I agreed to come on this damn tour.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I heave another pile of dirt into place on the mound, smacking it tight with a shovel. Beside me, some staffer with a hose rambles on as he sprays the water everywhere except where it's supposed to go, but I'm not really listening.

Across the stadium, Taylor and Huckslee are doing the same—packing more dirt into the ramps we've been using for some of our stunts. Tay sprays his boyfriend with the hose, cackling when Huck shakes his wet curls out, both so happy and sickeningly in love.

I scan the open space for Christian, but he's nowhere to be seen. Figures. Can't even pull him out of Arya for five seconds to help with prep for tomorrow. Fucking diva. He's been in a shit mood all day, even during our show earlier.

“There's this really cool air hockey place downtown.” The rambling staffer runs the hose over my shoes, not paying attention as he flaps his gums. I shoot him a glare, and he smiles apologetically. “Sorry, my bad. Anyway, as I was saying, air hockey. They also have a full bar with a dance floor. I think it would be fun.”

Shaking the water out of my Vans, I raise a brow at him, mildly annoyed. “What would be fun?”

His smile falters. “Uh, air hockey? And dancing?” When I stare at him blankly, he bites his lip, a flush spreading on his face. “With… me?”

Straightening up, I give him my full attention, tilting my head. “With you? Like a date?”

He gulps, nodding slowly, and I study him with renewed interest.

He's cute. Wavy blond strands, light green eyes, a face full of freckles. Short, lithe frame. Not exactly my type, but he might be a good fuck…

If I was in the mood.

I open my mouth, prepared to tell the guy no thanks when a voice cuts in from behind us.

“He's got other plans, homie.”