by Logan Fox
“Methylenediox—” Hunter pauses. “Methylenedioxyamph—” He shakes his head. “MDMA. They don’t call it the love drug for nothing.”
“The fuck you feed it to us for?”
“Nothing the world needs more than a little love.”
I’m still studying Kane’s suspicious expression when gentle fingers grasp my chin and turn me away.
Hunter floods my world, and I can’t help wriggling with sudden, intense happiness. “Hey, babe,” I murmur.
I know it’s not our thing — we don’t have pet names and shit — but my brain’s gone soft and fluffy, and I just can’t help it.
He doesn’t say anything; he just kisses me.
It’s so slow, so sensual, that I’m moaning against his mouth before I can stop myself. I don’t care that his friend is right beside us — in fact, a few seconds later, it’s just Hunter and me and the rest of the world has ceased to exit.
We kiss forever, but when he breaks away, it’s like we’ve only just begun. I touch fingertips to my lips and sink back into the sofa with a long sigh, a ghost of his kiss lingering on my mouth like a phantom aftershock.
When I surface again, Zee’s gone. It’s just Kane and me on the sofa — Hunter stands by the glass walls, staring into the dark.
The dark.
The dark.
The da—!
“Come back, Red,” Kane says.
I blink hard. My hand feels strange. I look down. I’m gripping Kane’s fingers in a fist, his fingertips dark with trapped blood.
Dark.
The dark.
I sit up straight, mouth glued shut but I’m still trying to scream.
“Hey. Relax.”
Fingers brush my jaw. Kane stares at me as if he’s trying to read my thoughts. “You’re safe.”
Yeah? Yeah? You tell that to the dark pressing against that thin glass wall.
Dammit, why can’t I talk?
“I hear you,” Kane says.
Am I talking out loud again?
“You are,” he says through a laugh. “Christ, Hunter doesn’t fuck around with his doses, does he?”
“Fuck Hunter.” My words ring too loud in my ears. I glance guiltily over to him, but Hunter either didn’t hear me or is pretending not to.
“Yeah, I don’t swing that way,” Kane says.
I turn back to him. Still not angry, but insistent. Passionate. “I should have known he’d do this again. Tricking me. Drugging me. Why did I say I’d marry him?”
Kane shrugs. “Can’t tell what was going on in your head, Red.”
Your head, Red.
“Guess ‘m’a masochist, right?” My words run together as my jaw clenches hard. “Why’else?”
“Masochist? That’s a bit strong—”
Then I’m trying to take the ring off my finger. Kane catches both hands in mine. “Hunter, your girl needs you.”
But Hunter seems more fascinated with the outside world.
“Listen, Clover, everything’s going to be fine. This shit’s just kicking real fucking hard right now, okay?”
His eyes swallow me.
“What if I don’t love him? What if I just think I do?”
“I don’t have answers,” Kane murmurs. He’s studying me too. My eyes, my nose, my mouth. Why? Is my make up all fucked up? It should be by now. It’s been a long night.
“He’s fucked up,” I say, but my words are softer now, almost musing.
“That he is. But, from what I hear, so are you.”
“He told you about me?”
Kane nods.
“The heroin?”
Another nod.
My chest grows tight. “The cabin in the woods?”
Kane’s eyes narrow. He shakes his head, his fingers closing tighter around mine. “What cabin?”
“The one in the woods. The one he led me to. The one where he fucked—”
I lick my lips. No, no, no. That’s not something you go around telling random people.
“I’m not a random person.” Kane’s intent on me. “Did he…did he…?” He can’t seem to say the words, but there’s something brewing in his eyes. An unpleasant realization.
Did he what? Rape me?
“No. No, no.”
Kane visibly relaxes and releases my hands. But now mine feel too cold, and I snatch them up again with a rushed, “Don’t let go.”
“Okay, Red.” Kane tightens his grip. “I won’t let go.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Ever. He’s different when you’re here. When you’re gone—”
I cut off as Hunter’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“See, Clover?” Hunter crouches, his hand sliding up to the back of my neck. “When last have you connected on such a level with someone besides me?”
I’m stumped by the question. By the strange tone to Hunter’s voice. Is he asking me if I’ve slept around? How the fuck would that even be possible?
“I never leave the house,” I say urgently. “How can you even—?”
“I should go,” Kane says, pulling away from my hands.
“You can’t drive,” Hunter replies without taking his eyes off me.
“I’m fine.” Kane stands. “You two obviously have shit to work out.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Hunter says, grabbing Kane’s wrist before he can take more than a step away. “You’re instrumental in helping us solve this problem.”
Chapter Eleven
Hunter
My heart’s beating too fast, too hard. I feel sweaty, but my skin’s dry. I made sure to give us each enough MDMA that, in a few minutes, there would no longer be any control.
I’m starting to realize that’s what terrified me most about tonight; losing control.
My life is so rigorously structured, there’s not a moment wasted on wondering what I should do next.
I always know.
Like tonight.
I had everything planned out.
Seven: dinner guests arrive.
Eight: main course is served.
Eight-fifteen: I propose to Clover.
Eight-twenty: the wine dosed with MDMA is served to myself, Clover, and Kane
Eight-forty-five: Alexa leaves.
Eight-fifty: Kane attempts to leave. I make him stay.
Nine-thirty: The MDMA kicks in.
Ten: our systems are flooded with dopamine. We are no longer in control.
I am no longer in control.
It should be liberating, but it’s terrifying. I’m tempted to smoke a joint, forcing myself to come down sooner, but I don’t want to, even though I know I have to play chaperone.
I must make sure this evening ends on a high note.
Not a high note.
“What’s so funny?”
I force my laughter away. Clover’s trying to look pissed off, but that’s impossible right now. I can’t even be upset at the words she spoke earlier, calling me out for my deceptions.
“We all have to make sacrifices,” I say.
She watches me with her Morningstar eyes for the longest time. “Yeah? What exactly have you sacrificed lately?”
I smile, slide a hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her. The sofa shifts as Kane stands. I grab his arm, anchoring him. When I pull away from Clover, Kane’s looking at my hand like it’s a snake wound around his arm.
Our eyes meet. He shakes his head. “When did I ever give you the idea I’d ever fuck dudes?” But, as bitter as his words are, there’s hesitation in his voice. Not for this moment — I know for a fact he won’t indulge in anything remotely homosexual — but as if he’s not quite telling the truth.
“She’s going off the market,” I say, pulling him into a sit.
He lets me; no control, right?
“So?” He sounds curious, intrigued, frustrated.
“You gonna let a piece of ass like this get away?” Shit, this is more difficult than I thought it would be. I can’
t get my words out right, can’t remember the exact phrases I had attempted to memorize for this exact moment.
Kane knows it, too; perhaps not my intention, but that I’m fucking this up royally.
“I’m gonna go upstairs,” he says, but without moving. “Gonna wake Zee. Then we’re getting out of here.”
“Sure,” I say.
I fumble with Clover’s hand. She looks at me with wide eyes as I slide her ring from her finger and lean to the side to set it down on the coffee table.
“But unless I have this all wrong, I know you and Zee aren’t intimate.” When I look at Kane, his face is set like concrete. “Clover’s mine now — which means I can give her to anyone I want.”
Clover lets out a sound that might have been a protest if it hadn’t been so breathlessly anticipatory.
“I want you to have her tonight.”
Kane’s eyes narrow.
“As long as I can watch.”
Chapter Twelve
Clover
Did I miss something? I must have. Hunter was kissing me. Then he and Kane were all like bla-bla-bla and throwing each other significant glances that meant fuck all to me.
Now Hunter’s gone and put my hand on Kane’s leg.
Just like that. Bam.
I try to move it away, frown at Hunter, but he keeps me there.
The fire cracks and all three of us start like it was a firecracker going off.
“Why?” Kane asks.
“I’m your friend.”
I try to pull my hand away. Instead, Hunter inches it higher up Kane’s leg. Kane shifts as if he wants to move out from under my touch, but he doesn’t actually make any progress.
“This isn’t right,” Kane says through gritted teeth. “You’re not acting right. What’s the fuck’s going on?”
“I think it’s quite a noble gesture,” Hunter says. “It would be a slap in the face for you to refuse.”
“The fuck, man?” Kane murmurs. “You don’t want this. She doesn’t want this.”
“But you do.” Hunter leans closer, until he’s close enough to kiss Kane if he wanted to.
I suddenly want them to. In fact, I’m all too aware that whatever the hell’s going on here is turning me on more than it should.
MDMA.
That’s why they call it the love drug.
Hunter fucking planned this.
But why?
I thought I pleased him in bed. But maybe he’s the kinda guy that needs more.
Oh, fucking fuck. I can’t do that. This. If that’s what he needs, then I don’t know if I can—
Hunter slides his hand between my legs. I’m still wearing the get up I threw together earlier — his black shirt and a makeshift belt, but I lost my heels quite some time ago and my hair’s even more of a mess now.
“She’s not wearing underwear,” Hunter breathes, but he’s still staring at Kane, not me.
I try to blush, but for some reason, I’m not embarrassed by the fact. I guess I should have tried putting it back on after the bathroom-Alexa incident, but I haven’t bothered. Sometimes, shit just seems like a good idea at the time.
Maybe, somehow, I knew I’d be pinned between these two guys tonight. That Hunter would want to make a show of what a fucking hussy I am, so he’d convince his friend to screw me while he watched.
I mean, these things happen, right?
“Hunter,” I murmur, but I don’t even know if it’s for him to stop or keep going, so when he squeezes my cunt with enough force to make me sit up and pay attention, I feel I can’t really blame him.
My eyes want to close, but all I let them do is flutter. If I lose myself in the hedonistic fog that so badly wants to consume me then I’ll never be able to claw myself back to reality.
“And if you still think she doesn’t want this…” Hunter’s voice dips. He grabs Kane hand and then that’s between my legs.
I gasp, then moan, because Hunter’s manipulating that man’s long fingers just right.
“Mercy,” Kane mutters, but more as a curse than anything else, I’m sure. “Hunter, don’t—”
Hunter shoves Kane’s finger deep inside me. I moan, but it’s cut off when Hunter kisses me, stilling my non-existent attempts at protest.
“Jesus, you’re fucked up,” I hear Kane say. But closer; much closer.
Lips tentatively touch the side of my neck. Gentle fingertips brush the collar of my shirt and inch it down my shoulder. Breathy soft kisses follow — more just Kane sliding his mouth over my skin.
Hunter’s massaging my clit.
Kane’s fingering me.
And dear God, I can’t even.
This is wrong on so many levels, but that doesn’t stop my traitorous body from doing what it does best — whoring me out like the prostitute I am. My thighs spread, crowding against the men on either side of me. I feel for Hunter, squeeze his cock through his pants, and he groans through our kiss.
Unsteady fingers work at one of my buttons, and I know it has to be Kane because Hunter would have torn this shirt off already.
As if reading my mind, Hunter breaks off our kiss and says, “She won’t break. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Hunter grabs the front of my shirt — his shirt, dumb fuck — and rips it open. My belt is tugged free, hard enough to send me bobbing forward.
Kane happens to look up, then down, and then catches my mouth with his before I have a chance to do anything.
My entire body is tingling to the roots of my hair. It’s almost too much, but just the knowledge that I’m seconds away from being fucked by someone other than Hunter is enough to keep any girl grounded.
Briefly, anyway.
Hunter’s got his dick out, and I’m stroking it for all I’m worth.
“Why aren’t you fucking her yet?” Hunter asks, his voice as tight as if he’s already about to come.
Fuck, does this really turn him on that much? If it does, then holy fuck, I guess I’m going to have to get used to it because knowing he’s so turned on is making me—
“Fuck, you’re wet,” Kane murmurs into my ear. Then, as if he’s speaking to Hunter, “You have a condom? I don’t keep any—”
“I’m on the pill.” The words leave my mouth in a whisper, but they both hear me.
“Yeah, but—”
I buck, sending Kane’s fingers knuckle deep inside me. Hunter’s hitting my clit just right, and the combination almost sends me over the edge. But Hunter knows me too well; he pinches me, instantly ending the glorious rush heading my way. I let out a sulky moan and throttle his dick in recompense.
But that just makes him groan and brings a very familiar light to his eyes.
Hunger. Or is it anger? No, not possible. But fuck, now I’m all conflicted. Does he want this, or does he think I want this? Is this supposed to be some kind of hall pass before we seal the deal forever?
Good god, I can’t make up from down.
I hear a fly open, but I can’t look away from Hunter. His eyes eat at me and I still can’t decide if he wants me to stop this, or if he’s silently egging Kane on.
The decision isn’t mine anymore; the tip of Kane’s cock presses against me. I arch away from the couch, but Hunter puts a hand to my throat and pushes me back.
“You’ll enjoy it, Clover,” he says.
A shiver races through me. That sounded more like a command than him setting me at ease.
Kane lets out a tight, “I can’t—”
I lift my hips, not once breaking eye contact with Hunter. Kane inches inside me, and then obviously resigns himself to fucking me because he thrusts so hard into me that I let out a strangled gasp.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but Hunter tightens his grip on my throat. I open them again.
“Hunter,” I murmur, and wonder if I even got his name right. After that first violent thrust, Kane’s taking his jolly sweet time. I guess, if what Hunter said is true, it’s been a while.
Which means this will be over soon.
&nb
sp; And I don’t know how I feel about that.
Chapter Thirteen
Hunter
It’s taking everything I have not to shove Kane off Clover and take back what’s mine. But the confusion in Clover’s eyes is enough to keep me on track.
I want this, so she wants this.
Which is good. It’s excellent, in fact. If she’d protested too much, nothing I’d said would have kept Kane here tonight.
I’m doing my best to block out anything happening south of Clover’s breasts. In a way, I’m trying to pretend it’s me making them bounce like that.
He’s not fucking her hard enough; I can see that much in her eyes. It’s as if she’s waiting for him to get to the good bit so this can be all over.
Me too.
“Harder,” I snap. If I turn even a fraction of an inch, I’ll have Kane in my peripherals. Instead, I keep my eyes on Clover and will her to jerk me off harder too.
She does.
Kane doesn’t.
“Fuck her harder.”
“Jesus,” Kane mutters. “You gotta lot of fucking nerve—”
“She’s a woman, not a girl.”
Kane growls and stops fucking Clover.
Fuck. Why the hell did I say that? But this is taking too long. They both needed so much fucking encouragement. I should feel good about that, but it’s needlessly dragging out an already bile-bitter moment.
I grab a fistful of Clover’s soft hair and drag back her head. “Is he fucking you hard enough?” I ask.
Kane’s standing now, and I know he’s seconds away from leaving. I shove my hand between Clover’s legs and force three fingers inside her. The instant I find what I’m looking for, she arches wildly and lets out a pained mewl.
“Answer me.”
“No!”
“Are you okay with him fucking you harder?” I stroke her harder, but slower. I see she’s close, but I don’t want to deny Kane her climax.
It’s a fucking spectacular thing to watch, and the least he deserves for being such a stand-up guy.
“Yes. Yes!”
I pluck away my hand, turn, and spread open her folds for Kane.