CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ruby

I press my hips into the bed, seeking what was just about to make me feel so good. Then the headache hits. I groan and open my eyes. It was a damn sex dream and I was back in that ridiculous limo with them.

I think about the way they each looked at me last night. Like I was an option. Like I was the crazy one for not even thinking it was an option before that.

Of course, I find them attractive. I’m pretty sure it would be almost biologically impossible not to. But they’re right. I’ve been a married woman for so long that I’m used to having that part of me closed off.

But I also would never assume that they would be interested in me. I’ve seen photos of them with half-naked models on red carpets and hordes of women who throw themselves at them after shows. Sure, maybe they wouldn’t push me away if I threw myself at them, too. But I’m not about to do that.

I jump in the shower and wash last night off of me. My dad is at his retreat still so I have the place to myself, which is much needed. I’ve barely had a moment alone since I was forced to move back in here, so I’m going to savor it.

I slip on a ridiculous pajama set from high school that is comprised of a pair of shorts and a tank top covered in illustrated llamas. I make myself coffee and toast and plop down on the couch. I’m ready for some much-needed time to be absolutely brain-dead.

As I flip the channels, my mind wanders.

“Oh baby girl. You need to get good and properly fucked.”

Dean’s words come rushing back to me and send goosebumps down my arms. No wonder I had a sex dream about them. I forgot how intense the end of the night had gotten.

Nothing on the TV can quite compete with these new intrusive thoughts. I open my phone and scroll to my favorite forum, The Fun and Filthy forum. It’s a place for women to go to get advice on their sex lives and I started consulting it in an attempt to revive sex with Shithead Steve. While that was a lost cause, I’ve seen other threads suggesting favorite resources for a little self-love. I can definitely afford to love myself better.

I scroll through the audiobook suggestions and curse myself for the one that catches my attention. A spicy audiobook about a girl getting with a whole rock band. On one hand, it’s incredibly embarrassing to admit this fantasy to myself, because obviously, I’m thinking about them. On the other hand, I’m not sure I can concentrate on anything else in my life until I get this insane idea out of my head.

I grab my headphones out of my purse and close my eyes, sipping my coffee and letting myself live in this other woman’s life for a bit.

The woman who suggested this book wasn’t kidding. The guys in this book move quickly. I feel my cheeks heat as the woman is on her back in no time.

I let myself really imagine what it would be like to be with another man. Hell, more than one man. Sex with Steven was so repetitive. He knew one move that got me off when we were younger and would just do it over and over, thinking that was all I needed. Already the woman in this book has done more positions in ten minutes than I’ve ever done in my whole life. And the way they lick her. Do men even do that in real life?

I listen to the description but I don’t picture the characters in the book. I picture them.

But I need something a little more specific. Embarrassment thrums through me as I click open my music app. I type ‘Midnight Sons’ into the search bar and press play. I just need to get it out of my system, I tell myself.

Dean’s steady rhythm on the drums starts the song out, then Asher’s skilled and intricate guitar playing. I get lost imagining the physical dexterity and passion that must be required to make this kind of music. And then Levi’s voice croons directly in my ear, full of passion and intensity.

I let my hands trail down my stomach and under the waistband of my pajama shorts. I spread my own wetness around my clit, giving myself the pressure I’ve been craving all morning.

I arch my back, listening carefully to each note and each word. Pleasure rips through my body and I am already so close to release. But I stop cold.

I sense something.

Movement.

In this room.

Where I’m supposed to be all alone for two more days.

I open my eyes and gasp in horror at what I see, pulling my hands up and ripping my headphones out of my ears.

I curl myself into a ball at the edge of the couch.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I’m still gasping as I look up at Dean and Asher, who just stepped into my living room.

Asher lifts my coat from last night in his hand. “You left this in the limo.” His expression is dark and more stoic than I would expect from him. “The door was unlocked.”

“What the hell are you doing staying in here with the door unlocked?” Dean’s voice is strained. “You didn’t even hear us coming in.”