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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.”