Page 22 of Exposing Colorado

White-hot anger pierces through the fog in my head. “Don’t you ever talk to Salem again like you did last night.”

A smirk slowly crawls across his mouth. “Or what, little bro? You gonna pray for me? Have her punch me again?”

I grind my molars, clenching my fists. “I’m serious. Keep her name out of your fucking mouth.”

“You know what I think you’re really mad at?” he asks, leaning forward enough that his breath brushes my cheek. The scent of cigarette smoke and aftershave floods my nostrils. “I think you’re pissed that I know what your wife’s pussy tastes like, and the fact that she begged me to eat it.”

My arm pulls back as I launch with a growl, aiming for his smug face. The asshole sidesteps quickly, somehow fast enough to grab my wrist and twist it behind my back. His free arm wraps around me, pinning my body to his chest.

“If I were you,” he whispers, his lips brushing my earlobe, “I’d fuck one of her exes for revenge. Oh, wait…” Devon pauses with a chuckle that makes bile rise in my throat. “You already did.”

Vomit threatens to spill from my mouth, but I swallow it down, gagging as I wriggle in his hold. “You’re… sick.”

His teeth sink into the sensitive skin beneath my jaw as he presses his pelvis into my hips. “I’m what they made me. And so are you.”

My body reacts to the position he has me in, to the feel of something hard pressing against my ass. Shame weakens my knees when my cock starts to thicken against my will. And like the coward I am, I freeze, unable to move until he places a surprisingly tender kiss on my neck before letting me go.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, gently nudging me out of the bathroom so he can take my place. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The door shuts softly, lock engaging. I stare at the handle for a long moment, blinking as my brain tries to catch up with what the fuck just happened. At some point, my feet move of their own volition, carrying me toward the RV although I have no memory of leaving the gas station.

And when we finally get back on the road, with hours of driving ahead of us, I don’t even remember curling up against the passenger seat, or falling asleep with memories of Salem haunting my dreams.

Chapter

Ten

Logan - College Junior Year

The party is hazy, a blur of bodies and thumping bass. Someone spills beer down my shirt in passing as Salem’s laugh echoes somewhere ahead like a siren song. She’s dancing with Arya and her friend Owen in the middle of the living room, hair wild, mouth thrown open in a way that hits me square in the dick.

I shouldn’t be watching her like this, and I really shouldn’t be following her like this.

But I can't help it.

She drops me her location on purpose—I know that. Even though I hate these frat parties, I show up every single time just to watch her dance. She likes having my eyes on her.

When she catches me staring, a sinful smirk curls her lips. Just like every other time we've done this, she beckons me with a single finger before turning away, and I follow her upstairs just like I’ve been doing since summer before college. Always chasing her shadow. I follow her past a drunken couple fucking in the hallway, past the glitter-smeared bathroom mirror, until we get to the last room on the right. Her room.

This is where I usually stop. Chicken out, turn around, flee back home with my tail between my legs and my parents' voice about “keeping my virtue until marriage” screaming in my head. I'll usually video call her instead so we can get off together. But watching her dance always makes me fucking hard, and I'm so tired of being a coward. Even if all I do tonight is touch her, I'll die happy—I swear.

Stepping inside, I take in the small room, blinking at the purple LED lights lining her ceiling and the walls plastered with photos she’s taken of her friends.

Salem spins around in surprise when she hears the door click shut behind me, her shirt already gone and a pair of pajamas slung low on her hips.

“Well, look who finally grew a pair," she says, stalking toward me like a predator hunting her prey. “Took you long enough.”

My mouth runs dry at the sight of her bare tits, nipples taught and pink. “Are you drunk?”

“Nope.” She steps closer, eyes glittering wickedly. "You sure you want to play, church boy?"

I do.

God, I do.

This is Salem, the girl who’s haunted almost every fucking dream I’ve had since high school. The one who—up until a few years ago—had no clue I existed. But still… if I let this happen, there’s no coming back from it.

When she drops her pajamas to the floor and steps out of them, I draw in a shaky breath. “Salem⁠—”