He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Scar’s POV

Dear Diary

I’ve been bad.

***

Cons

Men

Natalie dragged me into the adult shop in town, and the second we stepped through the door my face had already gone hot. Meanwhile she was in her element–snickering nonstop, lifting anything remotely phallic and acting out filthy little pantomimes like we were fourteen and daring each other.

“This place is unreal,” she breathed, holding up a neat little white box. She flicked a switch.

The end popped open and a tiny p–nis–on–a–stick shot out and immediately started buzzing.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a clit stimulator,” I told her.

Natalie smirked. “Oh? Look at you, Ms. Sex Ed.”

“I’m not guessing. It literally say Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading!

She flipped it around, formed a silent “Oh,” then set it back with a grin.

A moment later she was staring at a black leather mask–deep eye sockets, zipper across the mouth- like it was a museum artifact. Her eyes were huge. Mine probably matched.

I wandered to the wall display of whips and crops. One caught my attention: short leather grip, stiff flat tip. I pulled it down and snapped it against my palm.

The sting bloomed sharp and clean. Mmm.

Jace flashed through my mind–his hand, that crop, my skin. Heat rolled low in my belly so hard I pressed my thighs together.

Yep. This is coming home with me.

I tossed flavored lube into the basket and had to clamp down a laugh at the memory of that ridiculous story they’d told us about the guy who’d been allergic to strawberry lube. Then I grabbed a ridiculous amount of breakaway panties, plus a pair that vibrated.

We could do damage with these.

“Scar, come here!” Natalie called.

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I joined her aisle and froze in front of a machine with a metal arm jutting out, a dildo mounted at the end like it was part of the hardware.

“What is that supposed to be?” I asked.

A clerk strolled up like she’d been waiting for the question. Booty shorts, fishnets, Mary Janes, sleeveless white button–down, red bow tie, and two Dutch braids framing a perfectly unfazed face.

“It’s a fuck machine,” she said.

Natalie blinked. “A… fuck machine?”

“Yep. Watch.”

She plugged it in and hit a button. The metal rod began thrusting in and out with steady, merciless rhythm. If someone had their pussy–or ass–lined up with it, it would just keep going.

“Holy shit,” Natalie murmured, reverent. “You’ll never need a man again.”

The clerk shrugged like she was talking about a blender. “I have one. It’s great when you’re lonely. But it doesn’t beat a warm body actually fucking you.”

I nodded because–yes. I wanted hands. Weight. Touch. The little sounds a real person makes when they’re losing control.

We checked out with our haul. Natalie had added a couple lingerie sets and nipple clamps.

“Those don’t hurt?” I asked, eyeing them.

“They do,” she said easily. “But it’s the good kind. And when you’re coming and they get taken off? The rush is insane. It’s painful, but with the orgasm it turns into something… bigger.”

“Maybe I’ll try them someday,” I said.

“Only if you’re into pain, Scar.”

“I like pinching,” I admitted. “And I like being spanked.”

“It’s a stronger version of that. You should try it at least once.” She looped her arm through mine as we headed out. “So. What are we eating?”

I laughed. “One–track mind.”

“Food is a love language,” she said. “And you cook like you were put on earth for it.”

“How about Aglio Olio y Pepperchino with shrimp?”

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“The garlicky spicy spaghetti with no sauce?”

“Yes,” I said, amused.

“Perfect.”

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“Good, because–technically–I’m not working yet, but I’ve already called the Chief. I’m dropping off a big pot for the crew tonight. I’m not letting my guys go hungry. And I’m making cheesy garlic pull–apart

bread too.”

Natalie sighed like I was hopeless. “You spoil them. But that’s you. You feed people when you care.”

“I do,” I said quietly. “I just… want them happy.”

“Scarlett,” she said, dead serious, “you breathing makes them happy. They’re so into you.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked. The worry slipped out anyway. “I don’t want to be a placeholder. Just the girl they fuck until the right one comes along. That’s why I’ve been hesitating to tell them I want to actually try this–with them.”

“To them, you are the right one,” Natalie said. “And I don’t believe they offer that kind of arrangement

to just anybody.”

“But I am just anybody,” I argued. “We barely know each other.”

She shot me a look. “You’ve slept with them. You talk every night–texting or in person. You’ve shared

real stories. The way you look at them and they look at you? You could light a building on fire. This is a

relationship already. You just have to say it out loud.”

My chest tightened. “You’re right. I’ll tell them tomorrow at the bonfire.”

“Good.” Her voice softened. “I want this for you. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. And

I’m sure those two will show you what love is supposed to feel like.”

Then she kept going, because Natalie never leaves the hard things alone.

“You and Brennan might’ve started strong,” she said. “And it probably could’ve stayed good. But he got

comfortable. Around year two he stopped pulling his weight. And once Sloane showed up, he bailed.

I’m not trying to be cruel, but I think you’d already been unhappy before she came. Sloane just made

you see the cracks and stop ignoring them.”

I nodded, letting it sink in.

The first year and a half with Brennan after we married had been solid. He did chores. He made me

feel like we were on the same team. Then, in that stretch before Sloane, he’d started checking out. I’d been doing the housework while he parked himself in front of the TV. Even the sex had started to feel

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boxed in–same routine, no curiosity, no interest in anything beyond what we’d always done. I’d even

told Natalie I was bored.

When Sloane entered our lives, it hadn’t created the ending so much as shoved it forward. Would

Brennan and I have divorced anyway, or would we have hit a slump and crawled out of it? It didn’t

matter. Sloane had come. We had divorced.

I shook my head like I could toss him out of my thoughts.

Brennan was behind me. Jace and Milo were right now.

Back at home, I filled a pot and got it going for the noodles, then lined up everything for the pasta. I assembled three pull–apart garlic cheese breads and slid them into the oven. While I waited for the

water to boil, an impulse sparked so fast it made me move without thinking.

I took off for my room.

Natalie stared at me as I flew past; she’d settled in with Judge Trudy like she lived there.

>

In my bedroom I slammed the door, turned the lock, and peeled off my shorts and tank top.

Underneath I had a lacy white bra and a white thong. I let my ponytail loose and raked my fingers

through my hair until it fell the way I wanted.

The little desk chair I’d bought–mostly used as a closet dumping ground–got dragged into the center

of the room.

I crossed to the computer in the corner and pulled up my songify. Volume all the way up.

Cravin‘ by Kendyle Paige and Stileto.

I set my phone, hit record, and let the beat take over.

I rolled my hips slow, palms sliding over my curves–hips, stomach, breasts–then up my throat into

my hair. I turned, bent forward with my knees flexing and straightening, and then dropped lower,

bouncing my ass while I looked back and winked right at the camera.

Then I sank to my knees and crawled toward the chair, making sure my hips swayed for the lens.

The crop was waiting on the seat.

I rose halfway, bracing one hand on the chair, and picked it up with the other. I arched my back so my

ass pushed out.

When the song hit the hook, I lifted the crop and smacked my right cheek.

Again.

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A third time–harder.

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I knew I’d left red behind. I switched hands and repeated it on my left cheek, each strike escalating.

When I’d had enough, I let the crop fall, stood tall, and slid my hands under my ass, making my cheeks bounce against my fingers. Then I grabbed both cheeks and squeezed, firm and possessive, before

turning my face fully to the camera.

Up close, I blew it a kiss.

Record stopped.

I watched it back. It was hot–actually hot–and the thought of the guys seeing it made me giggle like

I’d lost my mind.

I sent it.

Then I pulled my clothes back on, tied my hair up again, shut off the music, and headed out to the

kitchen to finish dinner.

< He Cheated, I Chose Two Firefighters

Chapter 44