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I didn’t think guys could do that. I thought their dicks would, I don’t know, break if they got that hard and didn’t come.
Then again, I couldn’t believe any of it. I couldn’t believe I’d had sex with three of my four bandmates. I couldn’t even believe all of them had seen me naked.
And that when Bishop started ordering me around like that… I just… um, well… submitted, I guess is the word for it?
The fact that it came so naturally maybe ought to disturb me?
Because it’s not like I was a submissive person! I kicked ass and took names. I was not a girly-girl. I didn’t faint at the sight of blood or do yoga or eat cupcakes. I kick boxed, for Christ’s sake.
It was just… when I gave into Bishop, the pleasure amped higher. And that itch inside me had just suddenly become a scream and then there I was bending over a table, shoving my pants down.
And then when they touched me… it was pleasure like I’d never felt before. I didn’t orgasm but I could start to feel what it might be like.
I felt pleasure. I actually felt it. I wasn’t fucking broken after all!
It should make me happy.
…If only it wasn’t so complicated.
What the hell was I doing?
Your bandmates, apparently.
Great, now even my inner commentary was snarky. I shook my head and shoved aside the curtain of my small bunk bed.
And tumbled straight into Cash’s arms as the bus lurched at a curve in the highway. I grasped the cloth of his shirt and he held onto my upper arms to steady me.
“Whoa there,” he said. He tilted his head. “I don’t know what all went on last night before I came in… But you doing okay?” His eyes searched mine.
I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not sure I know what happened last night. Or understand it, anyway. Because…” I shook my head and let out a low whistle.
Cash grabbed my hand and dragged me forward. “Tell Daddy Cash everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “You wanna hear the part where Bishop and Mason almost killed each other like usual...” I bit my lip. “Or the part where they made up enough to fuck me together once they got me naked.”
Cash stopped and swallowed hard, looking down at me. “Uh. That part.”
“It’s just sex,” I said, pushing past him and walking breezily into the kitchen where all the other guys were sitting.
I could feel all four pairs of eyes zeroed in on me.
“What?” I asked. “We’re five horny adults in our late twenties.” I grabbed the box of cereal from the middle of the table, then shook my head when I saw it was Fruity Pebbles. “It only makes sense we take care of each other. Team-building, right?”
“Your body is not a team-building exercise,” Mason growled.
“So we have any actual, real human food around here?” I pulled open the door to the small refrigerator, hoping for some eggs. All that we had left was a mayo bottle, half a stick of butter, and some wilted green onions. I slammed it shut and turned back to the guys.
“Are we seriously not even gonna talk about this?” Mason said, getting up and coming towards me. He reached up in a cabinet overhead and pulled out a little round microwavable blueberry muffin cup for me.
I grinned up at him and snatched it out of his hand. It was the kind you just added water to and it cooked in twenty seconds. Well, and I added a ton of butter to make it delicious once it was done.
“What’s there to talk about?” Bishop sounded impatient. “We found a loophole in that stupid deal we made all those years ago. It doesn’t screw up the band if we’re all fucking her. No Yoko Ono situation this way.”
“Are you seriously that crass?” Mason spun on him as I added water to the cardboard muffin cup, stirred the mixture, and popped it in the microwave. “Luna, are you hearing this?”
“What?” I shrugged, turning around. “It’s not like I haven’t been around you guys for six years. I know what he’s like.” I gestured towards Bishop. “I think I have some idea what I’m getting into.”
“Exactly!” Mason said. “He treats women like shit! Why would you sign up for that?”
“Stop being so dramatic,” I said, grabbing the half stick of butter from the fridge. I glanced at Bishop, who was watching the interaction between me and Mason with an amused smile on his face. Of course, this was entertaining him.
No, Mason didn’t have to warn me about Bishop. I knew he was a bastard. I knew how he treated women.
I’d also heard those same women howling out their orgasms from the back room, or Bishop’s hotel room when we all shared a suite. And they all came out grinning and looking stupidly satisfied.
