I could already feel that familiar itch creeping from the shadows. I already wanted more, and we weren’t even done.

A smile spread my lips as Houston fucked me harder.

Faster.

My breasts bounced in time with his wild thrusts as his belt buckle slapped my stomach. I welcomed the pain as much as the pleasure. His grunts and groans came more often, his movements more desperate, as his orgasm rose. Never one to do anything half-cocked, Houston’s hand pushed between us, seeking out my clit.

“Don’t think you’re not going to come for me, Fawn.”

Holding my gaze, he fucked me hard against the side of the bus. We both accepted that at any moment, someone could turn the corner and see what we were up to. Loren and Rich had gone to get us food and would be back any minute.

What would they do if we were caught? Would they demand a turn? Houston grunted when my pussy contracted excitedly around his dick.

If they did, I’d give it to them.

I’d let Houston, Loren, and Jericho fuck me as if it were their right.

“Right fucking now, Braxton. Come on my dick.” Rotating his hips and hitting a spot I didn’t know I had, that was precisely what I did. I came all over his fat cock.

Even with all the blood rushing inside me, filling my heart, ears, and pussy, I could hear the approaching footsteps and voices in the distance growing louder. Another minute or two, and we wouldn’t be alone.

Hearing them, too, Houston began to pull away.

“No,” I moaned, grabbing the back of his shirt and keeping him inside of me. “I don’t care if we get caught. Don’t stop.”

He stared at me as he debated the consequences before giving in like I knew he would. Lifting my left leg over his arm, I was suspended in the air now. Houston then filled both of his hands with my ass and began pounding my pussy to a pulp. Mouth falling open from shock, I clutched his T-shirt tighter as I let him have his way with me.

“Why can’t you just do what you’re told?” he demanded. I could feel his frustration as he continued to fuck me. He didn’t like that I’d made him so powerless.

Knowing that Houston’s questions were never rhetorical, I tried to answer, but I couldn’t manage anything more than choked cries as I clung to him helplessly. Those desperate sounds mixed with the ones our sweaty skin slapping together made as they filled the air. And when I came a second time, it was a thousand times more intense because Houston joined me with a harsh grunt.

I will never forget the hard yet vulnerable look on his face as he spilled inside the condom. It was so beautiful that for a careless second, I wished it was me he had filled.

Staring into each other’s eyes, we shared our vulnerability until the moment ended abruptly when Houston dropped me on my feet. He hadn’t been gentle when he was inside of me. I didn’t know what I was expecting now that he was done.

We only had moments before we were caught, and keeping what we’d just done a secret was probably the one thing we’d ever agree on. Now that Houston was no longer inside of me, rational thinking had returned.

Houston shoved my skirt back into place before ripping off the condom and tossing it in a nearby bush. I was tempted to scold him for littering but realized how ridiculous that would be under the circumstances. I watched him fix his jeans and wondered how I could find a simple act so damn sexy. He then ran his fingers through his hair, trying to fix what I’d wronged. I couldn’t even recall gripping and running my fingers through his thick brown hair as he rode me, but the evidence was there.

“Not a word of this to anyone,” he whispered sharply when the roadies along with Loren and Rich were close enough for us to hear their conversations clearly.

I could even make out Loren proselytizing the use of night cream before fine lines and wrinkles had a chance to show. I’d never known a guy so meticulous about his appearance. It only made him more unique to me.

“I’m not an idiot, Houston.”

What we had done was wrong on so many levels. We played together, and he treated me like shit he’d stepped in and couldn’t get off his shoe.

Our biggest offense was Loren.

We both knew he wanted something more with me, and what did I do? I fucked his best friend.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

It was happening all over again.

My threads were beginning to unravel, and this was just the start.

Whore.

Harlot.

“Are we done here?” I snapped at Houston. I needed to hide and never show my face again.

“No. One more thing.” As he held me arrested with his stern gaze, I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say. “If you find yourself with an itch you can’t control, I’m the one who scratches it.” He paused to let the words sink in. “The only one, Braxton. We clear on that?”

No. Not even a little bit.

“The only thing you get to tell me is what songs we’re playing on Friday night. I’m not interested in anything else.” I turned to go when he gripped my nape. My back slammed against his chest a moment later.

“Make this the last time I tell you,” he said as he pressed his mouth against my ear. “Stay away from Loren and don’t even think about Rich. That pussy’s mine now.”

He shoved me away.

I had a knack for sensing when something happened between Braxton and one of my best friends. I found them standing too close and a little disheveled even though they were both fully clothed. It was in the small details, such as the hickey on Braxton’s neck that hadn’t been there an hour ago and the corner of Houston’s shirt sticking through the open fly of his jeans.

A blind man could tell that they’d screwed.

Loren was a few paces behind me, trading fucking beauty tips with the makeup artist we hired for Braxton—who right now looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

I made a quick decision.

I decided I didn’t want to spend the rest of the tour breaking up the fights between Houston and Lo. Yanking Houston’s shirt from his fucking jeans, I let him see my disapproval before turning to Braxton. Her hair was pinned up, and for once, I didn’t bother asking permission. I undid the messy bun at the top of her head and watched the red waves fall around her shoulder, hiding the hickey taking form.

She stared at me with those wide eyes that I once thought so innocent, and since I wasn’t as cruel as Houston or Loren, I didn’t let her see my disgust before turning away.

Braxton was every bit the tease Loren accused her of being, but I never took Houston for a hypocrite. Since the day she joined our band, he made it clear Braxton was a no-fucking-go, and then the moment our backs were turned, he fucked her.

The real irony was that I knew him too well. In the space between betraying us, screwing Braxton, and getting caught, I’d bet my life that he’d already claimed her. He couldn’t keep us from doing what we wanted, so he switched tactics and decided to take Braxton for himself.

The only silver lining was that Braxton wasn’t a doormat.

Clearly, she was going to do whatever the hell she wanted, but Houston was arrogant enough to believe her submission was a sure thing.

Whatever happens next, the two of them deserved each other.

“Rich—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. It became meaningless the moment you spread your legs for him.” I’d only admit to myself that my disappointment had little to do with Loren. He really liked her, but so had I.

“Back off her.”

I couldn’t hide my shock at Houston coming to her rescue. Shaking my head, I wondered how we got here. “You’re unbelievable,” I mumbled.

“Can we please talk about this later?” Braxton begged.

“Why?” I snapped at her. It was her turn to look surprised since I’d never been unkind to her. “Don’t want Loren finding out that you’re not worth his time?”

I couldn’t change that I’d been dealt that blow.

Braxton blinked at me until the tears she tried to hold back slipped from her big, brown eyes. I felt the apology on my lips and swallowed it back. I was sick of being sorry for the way people made me feel. Not this time. She made me believe she was someone I could hold on to. Why not let her suffer the consequences?

Braxton excused herself, disappearing onto the bus. A couple of minutes later, Loren finally stopped being a fucking chatterbox and showed his face.

Immediately sensing something was up, his smile turned into a frown. “What’s up?” he questioned as soon as he saw my face. He was clutching the food bags with the takeout he’d brought back for Braxton. He was already doting on her when it had never been his style. “Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal, bro?”

“Ask him.” I tilted my head toward Houston. I doubt he regretted fucking Braxton, but at least he didn’t look smug. He’d perfected his blank expression so well that when he spoke, his confession was the last thing I expected.