I took the ears and put them on. Mostly because she probably thought I wouldn’t.
Carissa gasped. “He’s wearing them!”
“Of course he is.” Summer smirked. “He knows he can’t show up at my Halloween party without a costume. I won’t allow it.”
“No fucking way I’m putting on that tail,” I informed them, as Carissa held up the puff ball.
Summer thrust out her hand to Carissa, like a surgeon demanding a scalpel, her eyes locked on mine. “Hand me the bowtie.”
Carissa dug in the bag and produced another fuzzy white thing, draping it over Summer’s hand.
“It’s either the tail,” she informed me, “or the bowtie.” She held it out to me. It was fuzzy and white, on a glittery gold strap that matched the headband.
I glanced at the puff-ball tail again, and Carissa held it up, waving it at me.
“Bowtie,” I muttered.
“Yes!” Carissa squealed.
Summer gave me a warning look—like she was bidding a naughty dog to stay put while she fitted him with a collar. Then she stepped toward me, carefully, like she wasn’t sure if I was gonna bite her. She slipped the bowtie strap around my neck.
“You’re loving this,” I murmured into her ear as she leaned in, reaching around to secure the velcro behind my neck.
“Of course I am.” She stood back, straightening the bowtie. “There. You look hot.” She grinned, pointing to the mirror behind me, and I turned with a sigh.
And there I was, in my black button-up shirt and jeans… with a white-fluff-and-glitter bunny-ear-and-bowtie ensemble. “I look ridiculous.”
“You look like you’re dressed up for Halloween,” Carissa insisted. “You’ll fit right in.”
I didn’t fit right in.
It took me all of half a minute to establish, when we arrived at the venue and made our way in through the back, that while the cocktail waitresses were in costume, the bouncers were not.
When I walked out into the VIP area with Summer and Carissa, I found Brody, Flynn, Elle Delacroix, Ashley Player and his girlfriend, and several other VIPs, a number of Summer’s friends… and a bunch of guys from Brody and Jude’s security team. Maddox included.
All the guests were dressed up in costume. Even the VIPs. Even Brody, who was rocking a gold leaf crown and a Roman Caesar-style white robe that matched the short, sexy-as-hell one his supermodel wife was wearing.
The security guys were most definitely not dressed up.
I was the only one of them wearing a costume of any kind.
Maddox couldn’t even hold back the laugh when he saw me. I gave him a wither-and-die look, and he snorted, pretending to be choking on something, and turned away.
Flynn gave me an awkward pat on the back as Summer greeted Elle. “Good to see you, Ronan,” he said, barely looking me in the eye, like he was trying to pretend I didn’t look like a dumbass wearing bunny ears.
“Yeah. Good times,” I muttered.
Then I turned to find Piper Grayson standing there.
Fucking. Hell.
I glanced around, but at least I didn’t see his bosom buddy Blazer anywhere. There were definitely a few guys who could’ve easily been MC brothers of his, though, hanging out at a nearby table, where Maddox was now standing. They were all dressed like 1950s greasers, with the slicked-back hair, white T-shirts and black leather vests or jackets.
Other than the hair, not much of a stretch from their usual look.
“Ronan,” Piper said, smiling. “Nice to see you, bunny. I mean, buddy.”
I choked back a groan, though he couldn’t hear it in the noisy bar.
“And what are you dressed up as, this fine Halloween?” I looked him over. The black leather vest he wore was unadorned, no Kings patches. “Let me guess. Biker. No, wannabe biker. Wait, low-level thug? Criminal mastermind? Help me out here, I can’t figure it out.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Then he glanced at Summer as she appeared beside me. I thought he might greet her, but he didn’t say a thing to her.
He just looked right in my eyes and said, loud enough for her to overhear, “Say hi to the wife for me, huh?”
Without looking at Summer again, he patted me on the shoulder, like we were friends, and walked away.
What a fucking asshole.
I looked at Summer. She cocked her head at me, like, What the fuck was that?
But when she leaned into me, all she said was, “Did you want a drink? Just this once? Brody’s buying for all of us.”
“No, thanks,” I told her. Then, because she looked mildly disappointed, I said, “Bring me a sip of yours.”
She smiled, adjusted my bowtie, and headed over to talk to Ashley and his girlfriend.
I stood back by the wall, not far from Flynn, watching over the scene in the VIP area, which was pretty full already. I kept an eye on Piper, who was talking to Brody. They looked friendly, unfortunately. Brody’s wife, Jessa, even seemed to be laughing at Piper’s jokes.
Apparently she appreciated his sense of humor a lot more than I did.
The opening DJ was getting the crowd warmed up as the nightclub filled up. The dance floor was maybe half-full, but it would fill up fast when Summer went on. She was the second of three DJs tonight, which I knew she’d enjoy. She’d get to experience a bit of the event both before and after her set, with plenty of time to party afterward.
And maybe she really wasn’t exaggerating when she kept telling me that this was her biggest party night of the year. There was definitely an extreme vibe of debauchery in the air, different than I’d felt at other shows she’d played. Maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween. Maybe it was the fact that everyone had an excuse to party so hard on a Wednesday.
The costumes and masks added an air of mystery, chaos and excitement as people bumped into each another, checked out costumes, and got shit-faced.
There were more girls dressed as slutty nurses, sexy schoolgirls, and naughty nuns than I’d ever seen in one place.
Among the guys, there were a lot of superheroes, gangsters and cowboys, a huge crew of college boys dressed as shirtless firemen, and countless assorted creepy dead things of the zombie/skeleton/monster variety.
It was already getting hot in the room and felt more crowded than it should because of some of the bulkier costumes.
I didn’t love that I couldn’t make out a lot of faces, so many people in masks, wigs, hoods and makeup.
I didn’t even recognize Summer’s drummer, Xander Rush, for a good ten minutes. Then he walked right by me with his girlfriend, Courteney.
I actually recognized her first. She wore a fitted white T-shirt, stretched over her generous chest, with the sleeves rolled up and a cigarette pack tucked under the arm. Black suspenders, black trousers… her blonde hair was slicked back into a tight, low bun with a neat part on the side. She had a little mustache stuck on, but I barely noticed it.
The outfit was masculine, but she was gorgeous in it.
Xander was wearing a dress.
It was tight, covered with pink sequins, and he did not look happy about it.
He stopped right in front of me as I checked him out. He took a long look at my bunny ears, like he was trying to make sense of who I was and what I was wearing. Actually, he looked wasted.
His gaudy makeup had been smeared. He looked like a used-up cross-dressing hooker, honestly.
“Welcome to the party,” I muttered, and he grunted, sipping his drink.
“Hi, Ronan,” Courteney practically sang. “Xander lost a bet with Ash,” she explained happily, slipping her arm through her boyfriend’s.
“Must’ve been some bet,” I said. He wasn’t wearing anything under the sleeveless, low-cut dress, and his muscles, tats and body hair were really fucking weird accessories for the dress. So were his sneakers.
“Oh, it was,” she said, still smiling. “I dressed up like his man to make him feel better. It didn’t work.”
“Because you look good,” he said. “I look
like an unemployed drag queen.”
Truth.
“C’mon, baby,” she said, tugging his arm. “Let’s get you another drink.”
He rolled his eyes and they headed over to the bar.
I watched them go, then looked over at Ashley and his girlfriend, Danica. They were with Danica’s best friend, Taylor, and some guy, and Summer was still standing with them all, talking. Taylor was dressed as a sexy witch and her date was a zombie football player. Ash and Danica were wearing matching bodysuits with skeletons on them; his was black and hers was pink. His face was painted like a creepy skull with black-and-white makeup; hers was the same but pink-and-white, with glitter. And flowers painted over her eyes.
There were some really great costumes at this thing. A lot of the couples were matching and it wasn’t even making me nauseous.
Almost made me regret being so fucking stubborn about Summer’s costume idea.
A few minutes later, Andre walked in. I’d booked him as extra security, just in case. Halloween parties could be chaotic, and the added bullshit of people in costume insured an unwelcome degree of the unknown. I wanted backup and an extra set of eyes on Summer tonight.
I headed over to meet him, nodding at one of the bouncers to let him in behind the velvet rope.
“Thought we weren’t dressing up,” were the first words out of his mouth as I shook his hand.
“What can I say,” I said dryly. “My woman’s persuasive.”
“No shit,” he said, scoping out my ears.
By now, he knew I was screwing Summer. I’d never outright admitted it, but after I’d stripped naked in front of both of them while I was drunk on tequila—with a blatant erection—I’d given up on even trying to deny it.
“You couldn’t have defied my orders, just this once,” I grumbled, “and showed up in costume?”
“I got you, bro.” He unbuttoned his black blazer, under which he wore one of those cheesy black T-shirts with a tuxedo picture printed on it. You could barely make it out in the dark. Hardly passed as a costume at an event like this.
“Gee-fucking-thanks,” I said.
“Always got your back, brother,” he said solemnly.
“Don’t you dare take those bunny ears off,” Summer said in my ear. She’d slipped up to me and squeezed my ass. “No matter what the boys say. I wanna tear that bowtie off with my teeth at the end of the night.”
Yeah, I kinda figured that. Was the only reason I was keeping it on.
She passed me her martini and I took a sip, like I’d promised I would. Then she gave me a lingering eye-fuck while she sucked an olive off the toothpick. “Hey, Andre,” she said, not taking her eyes off mine.
“Hey, Summer,” he said. “Nice costume.”
She smiled, then walked away to talk to the wicked, glittering ice queen that was Elle tonight… her ass rolling seductively in her ridiculous red leotard.
I was definitely gonna enjoy tearing that off her, too.
And fucking her in those wrestling booties.
“Dayyy-umm,” Andre said next to me, and I shot him a withering look. He tore his gaze away from Summer’s ass. “You are one lucky dude. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“Good,” I muttered. I really didn’t mind him looking, so long as he kept his mouth shut about it. “Now go make yourself busy.”
In other words, too busy to check out my woman anymore.
“Will do,” he said cheerily, and headed out into the club.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ronan
After Summer played her set and came offstage, I walked her back down to the VIP area.
Some guy dressed like a pirate, from outside the roped-in area, reached past a bouncer to touch her arm. The bouncer gave him a healthy dose of stink-eye. But Summer held up her finger like, Just a minute… and lifted the velvet rope so the guy could duck under.
I let it happen, since Summer seemed to know him.
I followed them, Summer and the pirate, through the crowd as Summer was swarmed; her friends all wanted to tell her what a great show she’d played, and she deserved to hear it.
I hovered at her side.
The pirate was on her other side, standing way too close to her for my liking. Waiting, while a bunch of her friends interrupted them; then the two of them talked.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying. She was right next to me, but the volume in the club had gone up substantially since we’d first arrived, and they had to lean right into one another’s ears to be heard.
He put his hand on her waist.
I looked over at Andre—who was standing just outside the VIP area, keeping an eye on the crowd—unconsciously looking for backup.
Then I gave the guy talking to Summer a good, long once-over.
I didn’t recognize him, and I could see enough of his face to know it. He had the typical pirate-costume eye patch and the fake black beard—couldn’t even grow his own, apparently—but he pulled the beard down off his face while he and Summer talked. He wore a ruffled white pirate shirt, unbuttoned low, to show off his bare, waxed chest.
He looked like a fuckboy, and I already despised him.
That twitchy feeling was going off at the base of my skull, and I clenched my fists.
There was no concrete reason for it, except that Summer seemed on-edge. She was talking to him, willingly, but there was something stiff in her body language. On-guard. Her hand was pressed to her chest, the same way I’d seen her mom, Joanne, do in Summer’s living room when Summer told her about the attempted break-in. It was a protective, uncomfortable stance.
And fuck no, I didn’t like it.
I almost grabbed Summer and hauled her away, but I’d never do that to her unless I knew she was in danger.
Finally, she finished talking to him. Brody had come over, and he handed her a drink. She took it, smiling. But it was a smile she had to deliberately put on, because she hadn’t been smiling at fucking Blackbeard.
I watched him work his way out of the VIP area. He paused to say hi to someone, but didn’t really talk to anyone else.
I watched Summer talking to Brody and his wife. I wasn’t sure how to read the situation, that interaction between her and the mysterious pirate. But I didn’t like it.
It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. It was that twitchy feeling at the back of my neck. And I never ignored that twitch.
I turned to get a better look at the room, and I clocked the pirate as he moved through the crowd, until I lost him in the bodies. Then I waited, as patiently as I could, while Summer talked to a few more people.
When she finally nuzzled into my ear and said, “Come backstage with me?” I was relieved.
I caught Andre’s eye and pointed toward backstage. He nodded, and I led Summer out of the VIP area, through the door to backstage. By the time we locked ourselves in her dressing room, the twitch was a full-blown itch that I badly needed to scratch.
Summer turned to me, wearing a happy, adrenaline-buzzed smile. “So, what did you think of—”
“Who was that guy, in the pirate costume?” I cut her off. She’d been about to press her hot body up against mine, but paused.
She slipped her hands around my neck, tentatively, and I grabbed her waist, pulling her against me.
“Pirate?”
“The fuckboy,” I said bluntly. Granted, there were a lot of pirates out there tonight. And a lot of fuckboys. “With the wide-open shirt and the wandering hands.”
“Oh,” she said. “That pirate.”
“Yeah.” I fucking saw how his hands had crept around her waist while they talked. “Feely McGroperson. Who is he to you?”
She sighed and let me go, tugging out of my arms. “He’s the ghost of Halloween past.” She went over to her makeup kit, giving me a look in the mirror.
I wasn’t amused. “I got a vibe. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. He’s an ex.”
I walked over and stood behind her as she touched up her make
up. “I need to know this.” My voice sounded a lot more growly than I meant it to be. “Is he crossing lines? You don’t need another Blair Sanchuk situation.”
“Hardly.” She seemed calm as she retouched her lipstick, but I could tell she’d been bothered by her interaction with that guy. “I dated him after breaking up with Ash. You remember the mortgage broker I told you about? The one with the coke problem?”
“I remember.” I studied her in the mirror. “He hurt you?”
“I loved him and he disappointed me. So yes, he hurt me.” She dropped her lipstick back in the kit and picked up a powder brush. “Most of the ‘coke problem’ involved the fact that the coke in question was being snorted off of other women’s body parts.” She started touching up her cleavage with glittery powder. “Any hurt feelings I had over that are long gone. It’s just not the most fun to see him again. But it’s not a problem. It’s history. He heard about the attempted break-in, and he called the other day. We still have mutual friends, so word gets around. He was concerned, that’s all.” She dropped the brush in the kit and turned to me. “He and I aren’t still friends like Ashley and I are.” She slid her hands up my chest to my neck. “You told me not everyone is my friend. And you’re right. But not everyone is a threat, either.”
“I don’t like anyone hurting you.”
“I know,” she said. “And don’t worry. That man out there doesn’t have the power to hurt me anymore.” She looked deep in my eyes, and I believed her.
I slid my hands up her body, drifting them over her tits, then up her neck. I skimmed my fingertip over her bottom lip… and she made a soft, hungry sound.
I dove in and kissed her. She scooted her ass up on the makeup table and wrapped her legs around my hips. I pressed into her, grinding my eager dick against her, and she rubbed against me. I plunged my tongue into her mouth over and again, and as her hands started working at my belt, I decided she was getting naked.
Right now.
I peeled the straps of her stretchy red costume off her shoulders, baring her tits. She had on those stick-on bra cup things, and I peeled those off, too. She squealed like that kinda hurt, and I leaned down to sweep my tongue over her breasts, bathing her nipples in warmth until she sighed.
Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3) Page 41
