Hael grins and laughs at me, shoving the shorts aside and then putting his lips right up against mine, so I can feel his words just as much as I can hear them.

“If you were anybody else, I’d break your hand for touching my baby.” Hael kisses me, spiking my blood with adrenaline, making me feel sexy and naughty and free. Oh, and young. He most definitely makes me feel young, like we could both truly be seventeen for one, precious moment. “Not you though, Blackbird. Not you.”

Hael puts his cock to my opening and thrusts into me. The car groans again, like it’s truly part of this interaction, the third person in our little threesome. Where’s the condom, Bernie?! I remember too late. I try to make myself say something, but then Hael starts to move and my mind is destroyed by the rush of pleasure.

A truck rumbles by on the street and Hael pauses, like just because he’s not moving it won’t be obvious that his ass is hanging out, that my legs are wrapped around him, that we’re joined together in sin.

He waits until the truck turns the corner before he starts to move again, fast and hard and frenzied. In just a short while, he’ll be at Brittany’s house, sitting on a couch and looking across at her father who just so happens to be a cop, telling him that he got his baby girl pregnant. The thought makes me grit my teeth as I dig my nails into Hael’s upper arms, marking him as my own.

“Come over sometime and visit me at my house,” Hael murmurs, kissing the edge of my mouth as he cups my ass with soft hands, fingers digging beneath the loose fabric of the shorts. “We can make love all over your Eldorado, so long as you don’t mind being covered in grease.”

A moan escapes my lips at the idea as Hael slides one hand up my side, shoving my borrowed t-shirt up to grab my bare breast. He kneads the heavy flesh with his fingers, thumb stroking over the pert point of my nipple.

“Check this, Bernie,” he purrs, licking me again, like he just can’t get enough of the taste. Hael seems eager to show off for me, and I have to say, I don’t mind one goddamn bit. He drops his hand between us to find my clit, squeezing it between two fingers and making my heart thunder. When he starts to rub it in slow, lazy circles, I feel my body breaking down.

“Tell me I’m tighter than Brittany,” I moan, even though I hate to hear her name pass his lips.

“So much tighter,” he agrees, thrusting hard and deep. “So much wetter.” Another thrust, another flick of my clit. My breasts bounce as the car rocks underneath us, taking the motion of its master’s thrusting hips without complaint. “So much prettier, too. I imagined you when I was fucking her, you know that?”

“Oh god, shut up,” I groan as he works up the fire between my legs, stoking it with carefully crafted expertise. The orgasm takes over me from the inside, instantly relieving all of my stress, making me forget where I am and why I should be quiet.

A scream of ecstasy escapes my throat, making Hael chuckle as he rides out the tender squeezing of my body around his. He lets me finish before he works on his own climax, holding my panting body and thrusting until he’s shuddering in my arms, his body now as soaked with sweat as my own.

We sit there for a second, hearts pounding, just trying to catch our breath.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I say, even though I know that I’m essentially admitting that I want him here, that I’ll … like, miss him or something. Gross.

“Same,” he says, standing up and fixing his pants. There’s not much to do about me; I just have to clean myself up after he leaves. Hael looks down at me, eyes sparkling, face contemplative. I’m sure he’s about to say something profound and extraordinary when he proves to me that he’s just as much of a cocky slut as I always expected. “By the way, I just won that bet.” He taps me on the nose and leans in close, putting his hands on his lower back as he cops a wicked smile. “And I will be collecting on that blow job.”

I slap him in the chest, but he just catches my wrist and yanks me up and off the hood of the car, planting one, last kiss to my lips before he climbs into the Camaro.

“I’ll call you later?” he says, and I nod, crossing my arms under my breasts as Hael pulls out of the driveway and disappears down the street.

“Feel better now?” Vic asks me when I come out of the bathroom after cleaning up. I’m breathless and pink-cheeked, with that freshly-fucked look, I’m sure. He’s the only one in the living room now, sitting on the long couch in front of the coffee table, tattooed arms stretched out on either side of him and resting on the tops of the pillows. “Now that you’ve punished me thoroughly, I mean.”

“Punished you?” I ask, taking a step toward him. Fury is rolling off of him in waves, making it quite plain to see that Victor Channing is not about sharing. “You think I screwed Aaron and Hael to punish you? You’re a narcissistic asshole sometimes, you know that?”

He stands up suddenly, but I don’t move, staying right where I am.

“And what about Cal? You want to screw him, too?” Vic challenges, coming around the couch to stand in front of me. I let my head fall back as I laugh. Today should’ve ranked up there in the worst of my life. I mean, we dug up a dead Prescott High student. And yet, compared to how I felt the day Pen died, this is nothing. I feel lighter than I ever have, like I’ve finally shed the gossamer strands of society, this glittering web of who I should’ve been, who I could still be, if only I’d run and let my monsters walk.

But oh no, I am much more vindictive than that.

“Maybe I do, Victor? So what. Sex is all about expression. You know how I feel about Havoc.”

He takes a step toward me. It’s dark in here, with just the two lamps on, casting a dull orange glow across the worn hardwood floors and old rugs that decorate them.

“How do you feel, Bernadette?” Vic asks, tilting his head slightly. “Why don’t you say it aloud?”

I close my eyes and Vic skims his palms down my bare arms, taking my heated skin and cooling it down, like a pleasant breeze, like the sweet kiss of AC on a summer night. My head clears; my numbness flees.

Sometimes, when you meet someone, you just know they’re going to change your fate. For better or worse. I think about saying those words as part of my vows to Vic, and they feel right. They don’t feel fake or forced, like a charlatan wedding for a sea of thespians.

“This is where I belong, Vic,” I say, opening my eyes back up. He stares down at me from ebon irises, his big body shaking with jealous rage. I should chastise him more for it, but I don’t. I can’t help myself; I want him like this. Aching for me. Pining. Snarling. Growling. Pissing. He can go all alpha on me if he wants, and I won’t stop him. “I’ve always belonged with the five of you.”

His mouth twitches, and he reaches up a big hand, using inked fingers to tuck pink-tinged hair behind my ear.

“My beautiful nightmare,” he confirms, running his thumb over my lower lip. “After we get married, I’m not sharing you. Get your fucking out of the way before then.” Vic drops his hand by his side, and I frown. I’m not sure I agree with that statement, but I also feel like I can’t possibly say anything, not right now. He’ll throw a man-trum and break the magic of the evening.