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Shannon wants to go on record and say none of this was planned. Going out clubbing tonight? Yeah, that was planned. The fact that they're all wearing black? Absolutely not. They're not corny enough to match outfits—especially when they don't even know what, exactly, they are to each other except one, giant clusterfuck—but it ended up happening anyway. Shannon is in another little black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. Eddie's in a black t-shirt and tight black jeans, and Buck's outfit is similar. They stick out like a sore thumb among the glittering, writhing backdrop of drunk and high twenty-and-thirty-somethings grinding on each other on the dance floor, but not in a bad way.
Not a single person can take their eyes off of them.
It's thrilling.
They all head over to the bar. This isn't really Eddie's scene—never was, never will be—so he's quiet. But Buck and Shannon? They're familiar with this. Not just because they come out and dance and grind and tease each other in public from time to time, but because they both had their phases where they were hungry, craving attention from anyone who would give it to them. Shannon partied a lot after she left Texas. It wasn't fun, not until the alcohol and drugs started flowing, but then again, she wasn't looking for fun. Back in those days, she mostly danced to forget what a shit person and shit mother she was, but she's not trying to forget anything now.
In fact, she wants to remember this night forever.
Eddie orders for all of them. He knows all of their drink orders by heart, and its one of those silly little things that gets her blood hot - the way he doesn't ask, the way he speaks for them. Effortlessly authoritative, his forehead already glistening with sweat from the hot crush of bodies. It's fucking hot. He's fucking hot. She's reminded why sex has never really been the problem between them. Shannon shifts on her feet. She's already getting wet because the boys might not know it (okay, Eddie might not know it) but there's only one way this night ends, and it ends with her covered in come and sticky between her thighs.
Buck's hand rests at the small of her back. Either she's just small or he's freakishly big, but either way, his hand spans almost the entire width of her back. She wonders what it would be like for him to push her down, bend her over this sticky, alcohol-slick bar, raise her dress and fuck her like a whore. Buck at her back, Eddie on his knees in front of her, his tongue licking at the place where Buck is drilling into her—
"Hey."
A guy her age, or probably younger, steps up to Buck. His eyes are glassy with drugs, the good kind. She wants some of whatever he's on.
He trails his hand down Buck's chest, heedless to the way he's got his arm wrapped around her (or simply just not giving a damn).
He gets in Buck's space. "You're hot."
Buck nods sharply. "Thanks."
He tugs her in closer with the hand at his waist. It's so obvious, a non-verbal back off if she's ever seen one before. Her clit throbs. Eddie's back is still to them, but he's aware of what's going on behind him. She can see it in the tense line of his back, the way his head is tilted just slightly so he can see them out of the corner of his eye.
An idea sparks in her head.
It's nasty and risky, but she's thirty and horny and bored, and probably the only smart goddamn person in this building. Definitely the smartest one between the three of them.
She squirms her way out of Buck's grasp and leans against the bar next to Eddie. Buck is still talking to the guy, still trying to get him to back the fuck off, and it's all very charming, very chivalrous and heroic because he's loyal, even though he doesn't know what he's being loyal to. But Shannon doesn't want charming, and she damn sure doesn't want chivalry.
She nudges Eddie's shoulder. "Your boy is being harassed."
"Seems like you have it handled."
She rolls her eyes. She recognizes that hard edge to his voice. Jealous bitch.
"Well, maybe I don't have it handled anymore."
Eddie looks over his shoulder. The guy—who is she kidding? He's practically a kid—the kid is draped over Buck like he owns him, because Buck is too damn sweet to tell him to fuck off properly. She doesn't know why the whole thing gets her so wet, doesn't even know what it is that's turning her on so much. But god, she wants someone's thigh between her legs now. She's not picky, she'll take either of them at this point.
Eddie looks back at her, first at her face, and then down the length of her body. He snorts, barely audible if not for the fact that they're standing so close, because if anyone knows what she's thinking, it's him, and shakes his head.
"Wow."
"You judging?"
"I didn't say that."
Whatever.
Shannon didn't come here to play games. Not with her ex-husband. Because she doesn't need Eddie to be her ex-husband right now. She needs him to be the guy that's going to fuck her senseless, that's going to watch as she's taken apart and put back together. She looks at him the same way he looked at her—face first, then down the length of his body.
Yeah. If anyone could use a prostate orgasm, it's definitely this guy.
Eddie tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "I don't like that look. I don't trust that look."
Shannon nods at Buck. "Kiss him."
Eddie's eyebrow raises. He reaches for their drinks when the bartender catches his attention, and places her drink directly in her hand. He doesn't take his eyes off it for a second.
Okay, so maybe she loves a little chivalry.
Eddie holds Buck's drink in one hand, watching as the kid continues to embarrass himself, and shrugs one shoulder.
"Sorry. I didn't catch that."
"Liar." She presses herself against his body, her mouth to his ear. "We talk about you sometimes, you know."
"Shannon."
His voice is a warning, but Shannon's never been good at reading warning signs.
"First time he fucked me was so good, god. He's so fucking thick, Eddie. You wouldn't believe how good he feels."
"Stop."
"And he's so sensitive. Guy like him, you wouldn't believe it, but he leaks so damn much. It's so fucking hot."
"I'm not listening to this anymore."
But he's not turning away either. Eddie's hand tightens around his glass, condensation sliding down his wrist. She's got him, hook, line, sinker. Sucks to be predictable, doesn't it?
She lowers her voice to that pitch she knows he likes, the one that makes that rasp in her voice that much more pronounced, and presses her fingertips to his chest.
"You want to know what I asked him?"
"No, I don't want to know."
"I asked him if he ever thought about fucking you."
"Stop it."
"My throat was ruined because he just had me on my knees. But it was okay, because you taught me how to take cock like a good little slut. So I asked him. I asked him if he ever thought about shoving you down on your knees, fucking your tight little throat the same way he fucked mine, like I was nothing more than a fucktoy."
She wonders if her pussy is dripping yet. If, when she looks down, she'll see a puddle on the damn floor. Just the memory of that night has her wanting to strip naked and rub her clit, public indecency be damned. She has to be honest, she didn't think Buck had it in him. That first time they fucked and she told him she wanted it rough, she thought she'd have to coach him through it.
She's never been so wrong in her life.
She woke up bruises and scratched, her ponytail holder tangled in her hair, makeup smeared on the pillows and bite marks on her shoulder. She's masturbated to the memory several times by now. One of her top ten fucks, if she's honest. It's only kind of her to share that memory with her embarrassingly pent-up husband, or something.
Eddie's breathing has picked up, his chest rising and falling quickly against hers. He's not looking at her, though.
"You want to know what happened next? You want to know what happened when I asked him if he ever thought about fucking you? If he ever jerked off thinking about how good your hole would feel around his cock?" She doesn't wait for him to respond. She's not sure he could even if he wanted to. "He shot his load, right then and there, and fuck, Eddie. He comes so much. Made me wish we weren't wearing a damn condom. Wanted him to paint my insides with that load." She pauses and lets him hear the smile in her voice. "I took that as a yes."
She pulls back and raises a finger to Eddie's chin, turning his face toward her, even though his eyes are still on Buck. She huffs a laugh.
Stupid boy.
Stupid fucking boys.
"Kiss him."
This time, he does.
Eddie puts his drink in her hand. He doesn't look at her as he moves through the small crowd gathered at the bar, fists a hand in the front of Buck's shirt, and tugs him forward. Buck makes a small noise, inaudible, but she knows its there. He licks inside Eddie's mouth immediately, doesn't even hesitate before they're trying to devour each other. It's such a messy kiss—wet, and hot, and needy. The kid slinks off in a huff between one moment and the next, but they just continue to kiss, and kiss, and kiss like no one's even watching.
Joke's on them: everyone is watching. Why wouldn't they be? They're the hottest damn thing in the entire club.
Eddie grabs a fistful of Buck's hair, and this time, Buck's moan is loud enough to be heard—barely—over the din of music and hedonism.
Shannon bites her bottom lip, her hands tracing over the soft planes of her stomach. Yeah, fuck this. She wants to be in the middle of that sandwich, and hey, she's never been much of a wallflower anyway.
She pushes herself away from the bar, their drinks set down and forgotten. She traces a hand down the length of Eddie's back, and it's the only warning he gets before she's cutting in, before she's nudging Eddie's hand out of Buck's hair and replacing it with her own. Buck only gets a second to breathe—only gets a second to blink at her, eyes blown—before she's kissing him, claiming him like she's been dying to all night.
Someone wolf-whistles, but all that fades to the background as Eddie settles himself at her back. He's a funny guy, isn't he? Not an exhibitionistic bone in his body, but when he gets like this—hungry and horny and full of this liquefying desire to claim—it's like he forgets that he's supposed to be some straight-laced pseudo church boy. He wants as badly as she does.
Eddie's cock, hard and heavy, presses against her ass.
She wants to be spitroasted.
Shannon pulls back from Buck's mouth with a parting nip to his bottom lip. Her chest is heaving, her pussy so wet she'd be soaking through her panties if she were wearing any. She twines her fingers with Eddie's, where his hand is secured around her waist, and grins. She hopes it looks as feral, as as needy as she feels. Judging by the way Buck shivers, she thinks it does.
She places a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and bypasses his cheek to press her lips to his ear. She nips his lobe, and this time, she hears his moan loud and clear.
"Let's go home, shall we?"