37. Sex-Crazed Haze

37

SEX-CRAZED HAZE

CANNON

Being in this godforsaken bed is agony. A man of my size can only adjust so many times. I decide to go take a piss before the three of them barrel through the door in a sex-crazed haze.

My movements are slow, deliberate, as I climb off the stupid hospital bed. I begged Oliver not to order it. The label's private physician encouraged it, claiming that it helps with overall circulation, which promotes healing. The bullet in my shoulder was scarier than the one embedded in my spleen.

A spleen is removable. My shoulder, on the other hand? Well, I can't perform without use of that. Luckily, after a grueling surgery, both bullets and their shrapnel were removed. The doctor said she thinks I'll make a full recovery and get adequate range of motion with physical therapy.

I empty my bladder, flush, and wash my hands just as my door swings open. Mazen steps in first. Steel eyes darkened with lust. Sophia is holding his outstretched hand. Oliver trails behind them, holding her other hand.

"All right, Mr. Bossy Pants," she jokes. "You wanted to see a show. Are you ready to play director?"

The mouth on this woman. Hot damn. She's a mix of brains and beauty—I'll give her that. But her mouth, along with the bullshit that comes out of it, is her hottest trait by far. She gives it just as much as Oliver. That's probably why I'm enamored with them both.

I slowly sink onto the chaise lounger, wincing only when my back hits the cushion behind it.

"You should be in bed." Mazen's chin moves toward the cell that's held me captive for far too long.

Offering him a sidelong glance, I goad, "You should have a cock in that pretty mouth of yours." My heart pounds like my snare in my chest. The thrill of dominance has sorely been missed. This injury is ruining my life.

Mazen's body stiffens in shock.

The last time we were all together, it was me giving him pleasure. I wanted to show him that feeling attracted to Oliver or me wasn't dirty. I needed to show him how good we'd make him feel. He came down my throat in juts of warm honey. The point about bringing him pleasure was well received.

Tonight, the gloves are off.

If he thinks he's man enough to stand in front of a crowd of thousands of people screaming his name, our names, then he'll learn how to perform for an audience of a much smaller scale.

"Go ahead and take Oliver's dick out. I bet it's dripping wet for you. "

Mazen's eyes dart to where Oliver is standing. A silent question lingers between them. If I know Oliver like I think I know Oliver, he's screaming on the inside. Since that day he mentioned Mazen's curiosity, there's been a heat in his eyes that only grew when he watched me suck off our singer.

I didn't know when the sexual tension would mount again. I just knew it would.

Oliver's fingers fumble with his zipper. The sound of it lowering is all the answer Mazen needs.

He stalks toward him, confident with each step. As he lowers himself to his knees, I silently beckon Sophia over toward me. The cushion dips beside me, her eyes never leaving the sight before us.

We watch as Oliver captures Mazen's chin in the palm of his hand. "Are you good with this? Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

With hooded eyes, Mazen breaks their exchange, glancing over his shoulder to where Sophia and I sit, frozen. We, too, are awaiting his response.

"Will this make you happy, Rosella? It turns you on to see two men together."

Capturing the trepidation in his eyes, Sophia slides off the couch, moving toward Mazen. She bends at her knees to sit beside him. "I love you, no matter what happens here tonight. You don't have to give your best friend head just to prove you're all in with us. You have me, forever. I only want you to do this because you want to do it."

His reply is quick, "I want to."

Oliver lets out a cough, adjusting himself in his half-unzipped pants. "Since, um … when? How long have you wanted to suck me of f?"

Before Mazen answers, he reaches up, placing both of his hands on Oliver's hips. Looking up at our guitarist, he tells a truth that cuts through the three of us. "Do you remember when you crashed your street bike the summer we opened up for Ho99o9? It was a couple of months before we left for our own tour."

The memory crashes into Oliver at the same time it does me. "Yeah. How could I forget? I still have a scar from the road rash."

"We couldn't afford to have our own rooms in that run-down hotel, so we all just crashed together. We slept in the bed. Cannon took the couch, and Murphy came prepared with a damn sleeping bag and took the floor."

Mazen's eyes dart nervously between Oliver and me. The truth he's about to bare happened years ago. That means he's been harboring sexual cravings for a hell of a long time.

"You stripped in the living room while we were eating pizza. Didn't give two shits. Just took off your clothes, tossed them on the bed, and walked to the shower."

"You remember all that?" Oliver's eyes cast downward, landing on Mazen.

"He doesn't forget anything, trust me," Sophia adds.

"Anyway, I guess since then." He shrugs in embarrassment when he admits, "You were … hung. I told Cannon and Murphy I was going to get a bucket of ice, but I really went down the hallway and jerked off."

My core is aching. Hearing our fearless leader—the man who's always so composed, so sure of himself—cut his wrist and pour out his deepest, darkest secrets like blood at Oliver's altar has me growing rock hard. The veins in my shaft thicken, along with my need to be buried in someone .

"Sophia"—I beckon the someone I need to ground me right now—"take out my dick, and sit on it."

Her mouth opens to protest. "The doc—"

"I will literally die if I can't bury my cock in you. Please don't make me beg. I want you to ride me while I watch those two—our two—men pleasure each other." When she doesn't move, I add, "Come on, baby. Climb up here, and spread that pretty pink little pussy for me before I come in my pants, watching Mazen take Oliver."

That gets her feet moving. The other two watch as she slides off her yoga pants—which she wears just for show because I've never once seen her do yoga or any form of exercise in the months I've known her. No prep work is needed for her greedy core. She's slick and ready as she glides down my shaft.

"Ahh. Fuck. Yes," I exhale. "Afternoon blowies don't have anything on being buried in our girl's pussy. Sorry, Oliver."

"Shit, I'm not. I love sucking you off, but I know how good she feels. Don't use all your energy though. I want you claiming me tonight, too, if Nurse Soph allows it."

Ignoring him, I direct Mazen to take out Oliver's penis. "Look how hard it is. Is that what you jerked off to? The sight of his dick turned you on so much that you had to go blow a load in a hotel hallway?"

Wordlessly, he nods.

"You don't have to be ashamed or run away from those thoughts tonight. What we—the four of us—do in our bedroom doesn't concern anyone else outside of it." I groan when I reach the hilt of Soph's warm pussy. "It took me too long to come to terms with that. No more time gets wasted."

His eyes are pools of appeal before they dart from me to the man in front of him .

A shudder of delight leaves Oliver's mouth when his best friend glides his shaft into his mouth for the first time.

"Fucking hell." Soph bounces on top of me. "Make him choke on it, Ollie. He shouldn't have denied us all this time. Teach him a lesson in denying what our bodies want. I want to taste your cum in his mouth before the night's over."