Page 19 of Vengeful Melodies

She’s a devout Christian who despises everything we are. She claims to pray for his soul every night—right before she berates him for his “sinful choices.” If only she knew how truly wicked her son could be... she might just burst into flames.

Homophobic psycho. Honestly, I think she’s the reason he started sleeping with me in the first place—maybe I’m the safestplace for him to rebel, to let off steam without risking who he really is.

We fuck to forget. Lately, it’s all we can do.

“Fuck her. And all of them,” Bash snaps as we push through the doors into the dark night. “I’m sick of living by their rules. I swear, I’ve half a mind to bend you over the truck and fuck your sweet ass in front of them all—give the tabloids somethingrealto write about.”

“No paparazzi yet,” Takoa says, sidling up with a crooked grin. “I called in a false lead on where we’d be. We’ve got about twenty minutes before they realize it was bullshit.”

He heads straight for the blacked-out SUV Grey drove us in and hops into the passenger seat like he owns it.

“You two betternotstart fucking in the backseat,” Alix groans, dragging his tired body toward the SUV. “It’s been a long week. I’m not in the mood for a front-row seat to whatever depravity y’all are into.”

Grey brushes past us, making a beeline for the driver’s seat with a little too much energy in his step.

“Better hope Grey drives fast,” I tease, tugging Bash toward the backseat. “We don’t have much time tonight. The tour starts tomorrow. We all need rest.”

Alix reluctantly climbs in after us, giving us a side-eye like we’re contagious. He stares out the window at the glittering skyline while I settle in beside Bash.

“Alix,” Bash asks, voice soft and almost casual, “when Wren mentioned Dreya earlier, you reacted a bit. Do you know her?”

I take the opportunity to press my lips against Bash’s neck, sliding my tongue down to his shoulder, and give him a soft bite that makes him shiver.

“We’ve crossed paths,” Alix replies, avoiding eye contact. “She’s a good fit. She needs a break. Her ex was like Vanessa 2.0.”

A visible shudder rolls through him as he mentions her name. That woman left scars—mental and probably physical.

My hand dips lower, tracing Bash’s waistband, sliding beneath until my fingers find what I’m looking for. His cock is already hard, the metal under the skin cold against my touch. I wrap my hand around him, stroking just enough to make him whimper, tweaking the tip with practiced ease.

“Mmm... leaking already, pretty boy?” I whisper against his skin. “You want me to taste it, don’t you? Want to show them what a good boy you are for me?”

“Fuck, I need to get laid,” Alix groans beside us. “I’m screwing a groupie tomorrow. It’s been too damn long. My hand’s about to file a restraining order.”

A dark laugh comes from the front. Takoa tosses a look back, cigarette between his lips.

“Groupies are low maintenance,” he says. “You get off, you leave, no strings. No morning-after guilt.”

He lights the cigarette, smoke curling out the cracked window.

Such a filthy habit for a man that pretty.

Bash thrusts gently into my hand, precum slicking my fingers as I squeeze tighter.

“Do that again,” I growl, “and I’ll have Grey pull over so I can fuck you in the backseat. Understand me?”

“Yes... sir,” Bash whimpers, panting through clenched teeth.

“Jesus fuck,” Grey mutters from the front, taking the last turn toward our hotel.

Thank God. My cock’s practically throbbing.

“Five more minutes,” Takoa says, sounding bored as he flicks the cigarette out the window. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Yes, Daddy Koa,” I reply with a teasing grin, pulling my hand free from Bash’s pants. He whines softly, but I give him a look that says,patience.

“I swear, you guys are gonna be the death of me,” Grey mutters.

“Wren might,” Alix shoots back. “We all saw how you eye-fucked him during the interview.”