Page 83 of Their Wicked Ways

I had no idea what the fuck was going on with Ez and Wes, and it was driving me crazy because I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Nick had offered, and he’d been helpful last time I’d been out of sorts like this, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about the clusterfuck that was my life and marriage, and I’d have to in order to give him enough context to follow my ramblings.

Telling Ez and Wes about my past and everything that had happened before I left home had been cathartic, but it had also brought all that trauma and hurt to the surface, and I was having a hard time putting it away again.

I didn’t regret telling them, but I hated how vulnerable I’d been in front of them. They’d been perfect, saying all the right things and letting me talk without judgment, but they had to be judging me, right?

How could they not?

I was a twenty-three-year-old divorcé who’d grown up sheltered as fuck and had no real-world experience with dating or sex. I’d gotten married at eighteen to someone I didn’t love because my family told me to, even though I’d known it was a mistake. Then my wife cheated on me with my best friend, and I’d had no idea.

Another pang of hurt detonated in my chest. I might not have known about Naomi and Jacob, but everyone else did.

My parents. Her parents. Their friends, people at church. Hell, even our neighbors knew because they hadn’t bothered to hide it.

I was the dumbass who’d trusted them. Who thought that twenty years of friendship was enough to make them keep their damn pants on when I wasn’t around. Who was completely oblivious while everyone had a laugh at stupid, clueless Jett.

Everyone who was supposed to love me had betrayed me. They lied to me for months, and I wasn’t allowed to be angry at them.

The same people who wouldn’t even say the word ‘sex’ out loud and refused to teach their kids about bodily autonomy and the full spectrum of reproductive health had no issues discussing my dick in great detail. And they never shied away from talking shit about my inability to have kids like it was nothing and they had all the right in the world to gossip about something so incredibly private.

And I’d told Ez and Wes everything. Just spilled my soul in a giant trauma-dump and showed them exactly how pathetic I was.

No wonder they were looking for someone new.

Embarrassment mixed with the sadness inside me. How could I have ever thought they’d want more than just a fuck?

They’d been honest with me from the start. They told me exactly what they wanted and how things worked. I was the idiot who let his fanciful brain take over and even considered they could want me as more than just a piece of ass.

I skidded to a stop as my brain latched onto that thought.

If all I was to them was a piece of ass, then why not go to the club and see if they wanted another taste?

We might have decided to be friends, but that hadn’t stopped them the night they helped me move.

If they could change the rules, why couldn’t I?

Sex with them was incredible. It was one of the only times in my life I could shut my brain down and just exist. Where I only had to think about what was happening in that moment, and the rest of the world and the noise faded away.

I needed that now.

And they were the only ones who could give it to me.

Fuck it.

Spinning on my heel, I rushed into my bedroom and dug through my dresser to find something to wear.

A part of me was screaming that this was a terrible idea and would ruin the friendship we’d built, but the bigger part of me didn’t care.

I’d care later when the damage was done, but my impulsive side had been activated, and it was either go with it or try to hold off and end up doing something even stupider later.

The atmosphere in the club was different from the last time I’d come. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different, but the vibe was off.

Whatever. I was here for one reason and one reason only.

Bypassing the bar, I made my way through the club and stopped at the edge of the massive dance floor.

It was busier than the last time I’d been here, and I scanned the dancing couples, my nerves fraying a little bit more with each passing second.

Had they come yet? They’d said they liked to show up early because it made it easier to find someone who hadn’t started drinking.