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Slumping against his shoulder, I try to regain my breath just as the Ferris Wheel slowly comes back to life, and we’re jerked forward from the force.
“Time to get dressed,” Rad whispers, helping me dismount Kieran, who tucks himself back into his jeans.
“H-here,” Callum says gently, coming before me with my bra in his hands. Working the straps up my arms, he clasps the back of my bra together, only fumbling a little and gently kissing my shoulder. Rad hands me the Property of Whispered Words shirt and helps me put it over my head. He clings tight to my original shirt, clasping it.
“We’re almost to the bottom,” Ash says in a lazy tone, standing beside me. He grins, holding up my come-filled panties, dripping with his essence onto the floor between us. “Now, for being such a damn brat, you’re going to put this back on. You’re going to wear it home and remember what happens when you disobey me. Next time, I’ll bend you over my knee, spank your ass raw, and then fuck your tight hole.” Asher leaves no room for argument, cocking his brow and watching the delighted twitches erupting across my face.
Jesus. Everything clenches, including my offended asshole. No one has touched it in a long time, especially not this dick. But I bite my tongue for once, reaching for the soaked thong, and put it on. His warm come sticks to my tiny hairs and my lower lips, mixing with his friends’ come as it drips from my sopping pussy. It’s like they’ve marked me and ruined me for everyone else. As the ride comes to a halt, I slip my flip-flops back on and turn toward the door, waiting for it to unlock.
The man operating the Ferris wheel turns bright red the moment our eyes meet, letting me know we had an audience of one. Despite being up so high, my loud moans must have traveled down here. Thankfully, no one else was in line after us.
Rad wraps an arm around my shoulders as Callum takes my hand, interlocking our fingers together.
“Thanks for the ride, man,” Rad says, digging a wad of cash from his pockets. The man doesn’t utter a word when we awkwardly walk away with looks of utter satisfaction lining our faces.
Other carnival goers roam the area with drinks in their hands. Since the sun went down, the children left, and the adults stayed to play. But they don’t pay us any mind, not knowing what we did in that unsuspecting Ferris wheel cart.
I groan with the wetness pooling more in my panties. With every miserable step, their combined cum leaks from me, running down my legs.
“You wanna go home, Pretty Girl? Or come over?” Rad asks, kissing my cheek when we get to the SUV still parked near the stage.
I contemplate my life in a matter of three seconds. Ma is probably sleeping and doing okay, and I don’t have any other obligations in the morning, making my decision ten times easier.
“Take me back to your place,” I squeal when Rad picks me up, throws me in the back seat, and climbs on top of me. Looking up, Callum grins, lifting my head so it’s on his thigh. His fingers run through my messy strands as he looks out the window, not once reaching to put his earbuds in.
“I’m still running down your leg, aren’t I?” He grins with satisfaction, running his fingers over my soaked thighs, and smearing the leaking come sticking to my flesh. “Lick it,” he says, rubbing his wet fingers along my lips until I open wide and suck all their essence off his fingers.
“Jesus,” Asher curses, swerving the SUV.
“Eyes on the road, dickbag,” Rad grumbles, sucking on my neck.
“Can’t you fucking wait? Why does this have to happen in my car? And when do I get my turn?” Asher gripes, choking the steering wheel.
Rad grins, biting my neck and sucking my flesh between his teeth. “The Ferris wheel was just the beginning,” he whispers, loudly popping off my neck. “There’s more in store for you back at the house. You ready, Pretty Girl? We’re going to fuck you all night long.”
Staring into his eyes, I see the promise nestled deep; all I can do is nod.
“Rock my world, Ashton,” I whisper, earning a groan and an eager tongue down my throat.
“Iseeyou’refinallyputting your managerial skills to good use,” Ode says with a grin. Nodding toward the new girl sitting tall at the front door, taking over my old job.
I lean against the bar, watching from behind as the chaos unfolds around us. People pile in, storming the tiny stage in massive waves. New faces. Old faces. People from every walk of life. Just to get a glimpse of Whispered Words. Their excited energy pours through the venue, infecting everyone—including me. Searching the crowd, I furrow my brows, not spotting my stalker, who’s been here every night for the past month, watching me. Whatever, so long, Van. I hope never to see your face ever again.
I blow out a breath, focusing on the new girl at the door instead of the fire hazards piling into the already-packed bar.
“Well, Booker gave me the okay to hire someone. He said I couldn’t do my job if I sat up front taking tickets. So, he said I should take in Tammy and let her do it.” I shrug, watching the new girl with admiration.
“She’s good people,” Leon remarks, cutting through the bar with a large plate of delicious-smelling nachos.
My mouth waters as the sharp scent of spicy cheese hits my nose, inhaling deeper, wishing the nachos were already resting in my gut. Fuck. When was the last time I ate? Breakfast? Shit. I didn’t have time for dinner today after Callum dropped me off at my apartment after work. I knew tonight was going to be big. And if I admitted to working a little harder on my makeup and picking out the perfect pair of shorts, you’d call me desperate. Some days I miss having my car at my fingertips and caring for my own damn self. But having the boys driving me around like a princess? Yeah, I kind of like spending so much time with them in a confined space.
“I think I’m in love with you,” I say with a grin when he sets the nachos down in front of me with a wink.
“Oh, you wish, baby girl,” he quips, kissing my cheek with a laugh. I’m too desperate to eat to bat him away like I should.
I snort, digging into the delicious melted cheese and chips, moaning into it when it hits my taste buds. “You’re too damn good to me,” I groan, shoving more food into my mouth.
“Now, that’s something we can both agree on,” Marcus, the bartender, says from my side, sliding two beers to grabby patrons waiting at the bar.
