Losers: Part I (Losers, #1)

by Harley Laroux

“Awful Things” by Lil Peep

“Fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us.”

Then, so quickly I hardly realized what was happening, he pulled the bubblegum from my open mouth, fingers brushing over my lips like an electric shock. He tucked the wad into his cheek, and with the first wicked grin I’d ever seen on his terrifying face, he gave me a two-finger salute and stepped back from the car.

If a guy couldn’t play with my masochism as enthusiastically as he played with my pleasure, then I didn’t want it. There simply wasn’t a nice way to tell your mother that you wanted a guy who could spank you as well as he could fuck. A man who was as comfortable with whips and chains as he was at candlelit dinners. Someone who wasn’t afraid to take control but wasn’t going to make the relationship feel like a cage.

Problematically, I’d already found people who met those qualifications. Four of them, actually, and they were all still here in Wickeston.

Hi. That was it; that was all I was capable of. Damn, real smooth there, Jessica. But my greeting got a smile out of Vincent.

“Stretch you both until I can fist you. I’d love to have a brat impaled on both hands.”

There was one photo in particular — God, this was so embarrassing — that I’d found so sexy I had to save it to my phone. The two of them shirtless, hands blackened with grime, wearing only jeans and boots. I’d gotten off to it multiple times.

“I fucking hate half the people here.” “What about the other half?” Manson said, tossing a beer to me before opening one for himself. Lucas shook his head. “Don’t like them either.”

Clearly, we would both just have to stand there glaring at each other until we died.

“Yeah, Jess.” Jason meandered closer beside me, sipping his beer. “Can’t even give an inch when Manson gave you eight?”

“Manson thinks about it too. He still has your panties in his drawer.”

I jumped as Lucas growled in my ear, “Tell me how many of the dicks on your list were pierced, then?”

I needed all of them to get away from me before I fell down into another orgy rabbit hole.

I looked down at my finger, allowing the blood to well up again before I pressed it against the collar of his shirt. He looked confused until I said, “Now you’re wearing me too.”

It was this or fighting, this or drugs, and the other guys had done their damnedest to keep me away from both. Bless their bleeding hearts.

Maybe the others were fine with her little games, but she made me feel like I was going to lose my mind. She walked the knife’s edge of my patience, an edge that had grown so abysmally thin I was shocked she managed to keep her balance.

That was how this whole damn feud had started. When I’d bashed Alex’s head open with a bottle, it wasn’t just me dealing with some anger issues. It was me dealing with him running his mouth about her, bragging that he’d seen nude photos of her on Kyle’s phone.

I didn’t think there was fuckall wrong with showing tits.

I didn’t let anyone but the boys sit in this car, but fuck, I could make an exception. Jess could sit her ass on my goddamn face if she wanted.

“I’m willing to bet you give a fuck about this dick ending up in your mouth again.”

“You know what you need, Miss Martin?” he said, his tone guttural with a promise that sent shivers over my back. “You need someone to take you in hand and put you in your fucking place. You need someone to take control, who won’t let you walk all over them.”

But Vincent and Manson, Jason…even Lucas…They’d defended me. Instantly, without hesitation, all of them. I should have gone with them.

That was part of why he and I got along so well, part of why we meshed both at work and in the bedroom. Exploring the edges of what I was capable of enduring was something I trusted him with, but only him.

Lucas reached around Manson’s waist and unbuckled his belt. He brought his face close to Manson’s neck as he did, his nose tracing along his flesh until he reached Manson’s ear and nipped, teeth flashing in a sudden, spontaneous bite.

There was only one God before me and it was Manson himself.

I didn’t only want Jessica for me, I wanted her for us.

If Lucas and I being intimate with each other was going to make her jealous too, it was a red flag I wouldn’t be able to ignore.

“Don’t worry, man, I get it. Jess breaks down, stranded on the side of the road, desperately needs help, you come to the rescue, bing, bang, boom, orgy. Sounds like a plan.”

Manson had fucked me so damn hard the night before that I was walking stiff this morning. I liked it as rough as I could get it so I wasn’t complaining, but he was particularly vicious when he was restless — and Jess made him restless as hell.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for us?” he said as Lucas’s arms wrapped around his chest. Lucas rested his chin on Manson’s shoulder, tenderly kissing his neck. He tugged at the neckline of Manson’s shirt, pulling it aside so he could bite. Manson didn’t wince at the pain; he smiled.

But I didn’t need softness. I didn’t need intimate, quiet moments. That was what I told myself anyway.

The way her face scrunched up made me feel…hell, it made me feel something. Like an aggressive need to squish her cheeks.

“Girl, we broke into your house, shoved ice up your ass, and fucked you over your mother’s kitchen table. Eat some goddamn cookies.”

Okay, fine, she’d convinced me. I was going to do this aftercare thing even if it killed me.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, baby. Jason is a brat too. I know how you work.”

“Does your family know?” I said. “I mean, do you tell them about…” “About being a polyamorous bisexual who believes in sexual freedom? Absolutely.” He smiled. “Makes it easier that my parents are total hippies, and kids don’t have the same hang-ups adults do. My sisters know that their big brother has a lot of love to give, and love is beautiful.”

“A few years ago, I thought the closest I’d ever get to something like this was when I danced with you at prom.”

“You are too fucking beautiful,” he said, looping the rope around my wrist. “Do you know what I like to do with beautiful things?”

“I like to break them. I like to watch them crack into pieces as I destroy them.”

“Noisy little thing, aren’t you? Never could shut the fuck up.

“It’s all fun and games, Jess, but don’t make me remind you to show the proper respect for me. If you think that just because I smoke, I’m going to let you get away with that smartass shit, you’re in for a very uncomfortable awakening. Unless you want to spend some time hanging by your ankles and getting acquainted with a snake whip, I suggest you change your tone.”

“Finally got my own trophy,” I said. I brought the fabric to my nose, inhaling as she watched. Her lips parted slightly when I said, “Christ, you smell good.”

“You’re going to have to get used to having both holes stuffed anyway, Jess. You won’t always be taking us one at a time.”

I’d come in here thinking it would be a struggle to be obedient, but now, that was all I wanted to do — be a good girl, please him, make him proud so I could hear more sweet words.

Her head was limp against his shoulder, her eyes glazed as she looked at me and her lips moved to silently form my name.

Manson's name

Vincent used her hard, the bell on her collar jingling with every thrust, her soft cries almost too sweet to bear.

God, I loved to watch them with her. How they pleasured her, used her, cared for her. There was something beautiful in trusting them so damn much that we could share this.

Our lives were twined for better or worse, and despite all the bullshit, I wouldn...

She was dripping with our essence, and when Vincent pressed a finger inside her, she squirmed weakly, barely able to keep her eyes open. “Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight,” I said, pushing my finger inside with his, feeling the warmth and the thick wetness.