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We take our time building the perfect rhythm for her. We don’t want her to come too quickly. Both of us want to make this last. He and I have never agreed on anything more than we agree on giving her everything that she wants.

Her cries become sobs as we fuck her tight holes. Apart at first, giving her time to enjoy each one along with the fullness of two cocks buried deep inside her. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, Scary Girl.” He gathers up her hair in his fist. Takes tiny kisses from her lips. “You’re taking us both so perfectly. Such a good girl.”

“Look at you handling him and me, Little Vandal,” I whisper in her ear. Kiss her neck. Match my stroke to his. Ramping up the intensity. “You were made for me. God, I’m going to enjoy watching you fall apart for both of us. You want to do that, don’t you? You want to show me how you come for both of us.”

She comes around both of us, her body shuddering with her release. Screaming. She turns sloppy. Unable to control her liquid muscles. Or lift her head.

“You want us to come, Little Vandal?” I ask softly. “Want to feel what you do to us?”

She whimpers. “Please.”

“Fuck.” Kodiak groans, slams into her repeatedly. “Scary Girl, you feel so good on my cock. I’m going to come.”

“We’re both going to come for you,” I promise her as I fuck her ass until I can’t hold back any longer.

“Fuck.” He slams into her again, pins her on his cock. Fucking rumbles as he comes almost at the same time I do. “Fucking hell.”

She whimpers as I pull out of her carefully. Sobs when he leaves her cunt. Discarding condoms and grabbing blankets and water, we bundle her up between us. I make her take a few sips of water and he coaxes her into a couple of Reese’s Pieces before she passes out against my chest.

He and I share another moment of understanding. Every night I sleep in the chair next to her bed and he sleeps beside her in the bed, and I deal with her wanting him instead of me.

Tonight she needs me nearer... wants me there stretched out beside her... and there’s no fucking chance I am going to leave her side. Not even with the storm petering out. It’s his turn to find a way to deal with what she wants.

I bury my face in her hair and close my eyes. Inhaling her cherry scent, I drift off.

I wake to the sound of my phone somewhere in the distance. I blink a couple of times before it hits me that I must have left it on the table when I scooped up Kelsey to bring her in here.

I shut my eyes and pray it’ll stop ringing. But who am I kidding? She’s going to keep ringing until I answer her. Going to keep threatening Kelsey until I work out how to stop her.

Exhaling a laborious breath, I leave the warmth of the blankets and Kelsey’s naked body pressed up against mine.

Bunk alley is quiet. It’s late. Everyone is probably asleep. Except, it seems the devil herself. I snatch up my phone. Accept the call. “What do you want, Sonatina?”

“I am not staying on this bus alone for another minute.” Sonatina’s churlish voice makes me wince.

“You have Lennon.” I don’t want to throw Lennon under the bus, except... she’s already literally on the bus with Sonatina. “And it’s late.”

“I want you.”

And I want her to go into severe cardiac arrest and not make it through the night, since leaving Kelsey—and knowing the possible ramifications of doing so—makes my chest ache like I’m the one having a heart attack. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“That’s you,” she says. “I always get what I want. Lennon, get the police on the phone. I want to tell them about the criminal keeping my fiancé company. Oh, and I will need a direct line to Daddy. I’m sure he’ll be very interested to hear who’s living the rockstar life and sucking more out of Savant Records like the leech she is.”

“You’re the only leech here, you fucking bitch.” I keep my voice low and controlled when I want to take a wrecking ball to her life the way she is to mine.

“Hello, Detective. Yes, I’d like to—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Then you’d better be on this bus in the next two minutes.” She sounds conceited.

When I’m done with her, she won’t be so fucking smug. “Hang up the phone, Sonatina.”

“Tell me you’re coming.”

“I’m fucking coming.”