by Smoke, Lucy
I smiled. “We all had a hand in choosing it,” I said, “so even if she doesn’t, it’s not because she doesn’t like you.”
"I know that," he said.
But still...I got it. It was nerve wracking. We'd all made a decision together as a group—even Grayson, who now fit in with our group far more than I could ever have predicted. Harlow was the woman we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with. She was it. None of us were willing to back down. She didn't seem adverse to the idea, but I wondered if she knew how serious we actually were.
"She'll say yes," I assured him.
"How can you be so sure?"
I shrugged. "She either will or she won't. I'm not sure. I'm hopeful."
Marv eyed me and then sighed, turning back to the window to watch the amusing proceedings as Harlow lodged a snowball at Grayson's head and caught him in the neck instead. Marv chuckled.
"You know," he said, "with the five of us, and her, there's never going to be a dull moment."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," I replied.
Marv shifted on his feet, hands going to the buttons on his cuffs. I smirked as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. “Shall we?” I asked.
He blew out a breath, but nodded, and together—as future husbands to one woman—we headed downstairs and out into the backyard.
Snowballs flew through the air, crashing into the side of the house my employees and I had built together. I knew this house was strong and that it would hold for a long time to come. I just hoped that the relationship I planned on building with the sparkling woman who rushed up to greet me would remain just as strong.
“Harlow,” I said, catching her by the shoulders and holding her steady as she came to a stumbling halt, those big brown eyes of hers looking up at me—trusting me, loving me.
She parted her chapped lips. “Knix?”
The others approached slowly and I smiled. “We have something to give you,” I said. “You don’t have to take it, but if you do, I want you to know that it will mean forever.”
“What are you…” Her lips parted in surprise as I held out the box. There was a tense silence as even the morning birds chirping in the distance faded for one single moment.
“Little Bit,” I said.
“Sunshine.” Marv stepped up.
“Sweetheart,” Bellamy said from behind her.
“Babydoll,” Grayson whispered as he moved closer.
“Spider-Monkey…Princess.”
Harlow snorted and cut Texas a glance. He merely shrugged.
“Will you marry us?” I asked. “And be ours?”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
“Do you promise to love and cherish us forever?” I asked.
She nodded and made a motion of an X over her chest. “I do. Cross my heart. I’ll love you all until the day I die.”
Sliding the ring on her finger was the easiest thing I had ever done, and the most satisfying sight I had seen was when the others jumped on her. Kisses rained down on her cheeks and lips and when I finally managed to pull her from their grips, I claimed my own.
“I love you, Little Bit,” I whispered against her mouth.
“I love you too.”
Forever & Always: An Iris Boys After Story
Chapter 1
Bellamy
"Can you see anything?" I struggled under Texas' weight as he peeked over the top of the brick wall surrounding the outside of Delilah's country mansion.
"Nothing yet. I don't see the girls. Are you sure they're here?" he replied.
"I thought Harlow said she'd be with the girls all night. Aren't bachelorette parties supposed to be like sleepovers? Painting nails and doing hair?" I pressed down with the soles of my feet until I heaved him up further. "Look again!"
"Whoa!" Texas teetered on my shoulders, one of his sneakers nearly slipping off, but I quickly adjusted and he found his footing, shooting me a dirty look as he gripped the top of the wall. "Watch it," he snapped.
"If you think all women do during bachelorette parties is braid hair and talk about boys, I think you're sorely mistaken.” A familiar voice came from the side.
I cursed again, and this time when I moved too fast, there was no chance to readjust. Texas came tumbling down and I fell to my knees as he landed on his back and rear.
"You scared the shit outta me!" I snapped as Grayson came walking around the side of the house with his eyebrows raised.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded.
Texas grunted as he stood up and brushed himself off, shooting me yet another dirty look, but I chose to ignore it as I, too, got off the ground.
He shrugged. "Well, I knew tonight was Harlow's big bachelorette party and when I went looking for you two, knowing that the Wiz Kid wouldn't be able to help himself, you weren't there. Of course, I figured you'd be here."
Texas narrowed his eyes on Grayson as the words slipped through his lips, but instead of saying anything about it directly, he turned around and muttered, "Stupid name," before slapping at his pants legs even harder.
I sighed. "Okay, yes, we were just stopping by to check on Harlow and make sure she’s okay."
Grayson's eyes glittered darkly with amusement and he shook his head. "Nice try," he said. "But I doubt that's the case. You wanted to know what she’s up to."
I shrugged. Sure, I missed her. She was my fiancée, too, after all. I always missed her and if tonight hadn't been her bachelorette party, I would have been at home, cuddling with her after a nice hot make-out session. I'd really rather be doing that than talking with him in the dirt outside some rich girl's house.
Grayson shook his head and pulled his phone out of his pocket, waving it at me as though that was supposed to tell me something. When I didn't reply and instead just put my hands on my sides and growled at him, he huffed out a breath. "I texted Lizzie," he said. "She's at the Glass Room."
"What the fuck is the Glass Room?" I demanded even as Texas straightened and whirled around, his eyes wide. I looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"We have to go!" he said sharply, rushing off. I stared after him. Where the hell did he think he was going? I had the keys! I turned back to Grayson as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"What's the Glass Room?" I repeated.
"It's a strip club," Grayson admitted.
I frowned. "Why would Harlow be at a strip club? She's not into women." I knew that for a fact. Hell, I was pretty sure we all did.
Grayson's smile looked painful as though he were in a silent struggle with himself. "Harlow's at her bachelorette party," Grayson said as though that had any significance on the name of the place. I scoffed and continued to stare at him. Finally, he gave in with a bubble of laughter. "It's a male strip club."
My mouth dropped open as though my jaw had come unhinged. There was no way…Harlow wouldn't…but Lizzie would. I spun around on my heel and followed the path that Texas had taken.
"I'll meet you there then?" Grayson called after me.
I didn't have time to stop and turn around and punch him. He should have told me that before. Harlow. At a strip club. A male strip club. God. I was probably going to go to jail tonight.
Chapter 2
Harlow
The Glass Room was dark, but the music made it feel even darker. The thick scent of alcohol and body oil permeated the air. One of the men on stage turned on his heel and strode back towards the wall, gyrating his hips as he moved. I turned my head to the side, my lips quirking in amusement as Lizzie shrieked in my ear.
When his hands went to his pants, her shrieks grew louder. "Yes!" she screamed. "Take it off! Take it all off!"
My eyes widened when he took her suggestion and ripped the pants clean off his body, tossing the silky fabric to the side so he could spin back around and go to his knees. Women at the front of the stage screamed just as Lizzie was. They panted and threw money at him as he smiled and winked their way.
"You could go up there," Delilah said, l
ooking at me with a smile. It'd been a while since she and I talked, but apparently, she had kept in touch with the guys—and had become good friends with Marv's sister since I'd met her at Ms. Enders' Etiquette Camp. Delilah was nice and she’d grown a lot since the last time we’d seen each other. Apparently, she was now in a New York fashion design school, though she’d rented a country estate to visit for the summer. I guess being the only bridesmaid/maid of honor kind of left Lizzie feeling a little pressured, so when Delilah offered to help host my bachelorette party—or rather, a girls night out—Lizzie being Lizzie, of course, was more than happy to let her help.
And that's how we'd ended up here. At the Glass Room. A strip club. A male strip club. I shook my head. If the guys only knew…
Lizzie looked down at her phone as it lit up. It was hard to tell if she was smiling because of what she saw on stage or what she saw on her screen because the wicked grin never left her face. She put the phone away and looked at me.
"I think Delilah's right," she said.
"Huh?" I stared at the two of them in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You should be on stage. You're the woman of the hour," Lizzie said. "You're getting married tomorrow!"
"Uh...yeah, I know that. But how does that have anything to do with getting on stage?" I flicked a glance at the pantless man in the gold g-string as he whipped around on the stage, leaving a trail of drooling women after him.
"We think it'd be a great idea," Delilah grinned. "Don't you remember that questionnaire they asked us to fill out when we signed up for the tickets to this show?"
"This is a strip show," I pointed out. "They didn't have any questionnaires."
Lizzie shook her head, touching my arm. "They did. Delilah bought the tickets and filled it out for us."
"Oh." I blinked. I hadn't necessarily expected a male strip club to give its audience members questionnaires, but as I looked around it was a rather nice club. There were two bars along the sides of the room and the stage that the man in the g-string was dancing on. Then several rows of chairs and a back lounge area with circular couches, where we were. "Okay. What about the questionnaire?"
"One of the questions they asked was why we were coming to the show," Delilah said. "And I put down a bachelorette party."
"Okay..." I still wasn't getting it.
Before Delilah could say anything more, the short woman with a headset that had taken our names down at the front door appeared as if out of nowhere. I jumped, startled.
"Hey there!" she said brightly. "Are you Harlow Hampton?"
"Um..." I looked between Delilah and Lizzie who merely smiled at me. "Yes?"
"Great, please follow me and I'll show you backstage." She turned and headed off.
"Wait, what? Backstage? Why would I go backstage?"
"Just go!" Lizzie hissed, shoving me forward.
I gave her an odd look but followed behind the shorter woman out of curiosity. Maybe they were going to do a meet and greet thing? I mean, I didn't necessarily care to meet the strippers...erm...dancers...entertainers?—whatever they wanted to be called. I was just here to have a good time. This seemed much safer than going to Vegas, which had been Lizzie's initial suggestion.
"Excuse me." I stopped when the woman stopped. "Can you tell me what—"
Before I could finish my question, she turned abruptly and I had to stop myself from colliding with her. She lifted the clipboard in her hand I hadn't noticed her carrying and marked something off before she pulled the side curtain of the stage to the side and marked something off before the lights outside dimmed and new music began to play. "Okay, we're going to ask you to have a seat, now," she said quickly. "Don't you worry about anything. Let the guy do all the work and enjoy."
"Wait, what?" I jumped as a tall, buff man appeared out of nowhere at my side. Jesus, were they all secret ninjas or what?
"Hello," he said in heavily accented English, though for the life of me I couldn't place his accent. "My name's James."
"Hello," I responded weakly, trying not to let it show that my heart had nearly leapt out of my chest.
"I take you with me now," he said, grabbing ahold of my hand and tugging me out on stage after him.
My muscles all locked up. Terror squeezed me tight. What was happening? When he pushed me down onto a chair in the center of the raised platform in front of a room full of screaming women, I almost peed. Just a little. And then the bass dropped.
"Oh, my God." I couldn't believe what was happening. I watched in awestruck horror as the man who had led me onstage began to dance around me. His hands brushed my arms, his fingers lifting my hair. My eyes were wide. My breathing shallow. What. In. The. Ever-loving. Fuck.
A peel of laughter erupted from beyond the crowd, and I had to give the man credit, he didn't fucking miss a beat. But I did. Oh boy, did I. I narrowed my gaze out there into the dark as the lights came up. Lizzie was practically sprawling—standing up—throwing herself on Delilah in hilarity. Delilah, who, for her part in my humiliation, seemed rather amused herself. Lizzie was dying of laughter. Her eyes were squeezed closed, but even from my position on stage, I could see the tears running tracks down her cheeks.
That was okay. It was probably better for her if she died of laughter; because if she was still alive by the time I got off this stage, I was going to murder her. Slowly.
My cheeks flamed red and I squeezed my eyes shut as the man suddenly came to a stop in front of me and—just like the man before—ripped his pants away. There were moans in the audience.
"Oh, geez." I stared in both a kind of awe and just plain dismay as the man rotated his hips in front of me before dropping to the floor and doing a series of confusing gyrating moves that I was sure meant that he had a few extra joints. I was watching with concentration as he moved up to my body, spread my legs and began to give me a lap dance.
I blinked and nearly jerked away, but my back hit the chair and stopped any further movement. I raised my gaze and met a pair of ridiculously amused and also somewhat confused ocean blue eyes across the room.
I gasped out. "Oh. Fuck.”
Chapter 3
Grayson
When we walked into the Glass Room, I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t Harlow on stage with a half-naked male stripper grinding on her. Not half-naked, I amended, damn near-nude. He ripped his pants away, leaving his ass-cheeks on display. If I had to bet, I’d definitely say that his dick was likely covered by a small rectangle of fabric.
Above the crowd, I watched as her head turned and her gaze widened when they locked on me. I met her eyes in a flash of half-confused amusement. I couldn’t perceive what my own emotions were telling me. Her look was complete and utter mortification.
Texas bumped against me and stepped back, looking up as he rubbed his nose. “What the hell, man?”
“Take Bellamy somewhere else,” I ordered him.
“What?” Bellamy was still at the front arguing with the ticket person, trying to determine if Harlow had even come here. According to what Texas had been saying as we entered—before I got so distracted—he still didn’t quite believe it. I grabbed his arm and turned, pointing him to the stage. Texas’ eyes widened. “Holy fu—”
“We can’t let Bell see,” I said. “He’ll cause a scene.”
Texas nodded. “I’ll tell him I thought I saw her walk out with the girls or something. Maybe we can check another part of the club. It’s a multi-leveled building...”
“I don’t care,” I said with a shake of my head. “Do what you have to do."
With that, I left him alone to deal with Bell as I headed backstage. There was a short little woman in black pants and a blouse scribbling on her clipboard while she barked orders into the headset attached to the top of her skull.
"Excuse me," I began as I headed for her, "I have to—"
"Oh, thank goodness you're here," she said. "Where's your costume?"
"My what?" I blinked, drawing up short. I stared d
own at her as she clucked her tongue at me.
"I guess that doesn't matter. Thanks for coming in on short notice—Joseph had to go. Kept throwing up. Anyway. You have the right underwear on, right? I told Damon to tell you—oh, I’m sure you do. You’re a professional. Hurry up and get on stage. Make that girl’s night!” She turned me around and shoved me out through the side curtains and just like that, a spotlight fell on my shocked face.
Harlow damn near choked when she saw I had moved from the floor to the stage and the man now gyrating in her face turned, spotted me, and gave me a small, barely discernible nod as he swerved to the side—bending and dancing as he moved around her.
“What are you doing?” the woman behind me hissed. “Go!” I felt a sharp jab in my spine and stumbled forward.
I heard Harlow’s groan of dismay more than saw it, but when I looked back to her, she had her face covered with both of her hands. I hesitated still, but with the crowd of women looking on and the spotlight heating my back, I gave in and sauntered forward. If she wanted to have a strip show for her bachelorette party, I guess I’d give her one she’d never forget.
Chapter 4
Harlow
Of all the things in the world to happen during a bachelorette party, this had to happen to me, I thought, covering my burning face with my hands. What the hell was he even doing here? Were the others with him? I thought I'd seen Texas in the crowd, but he'd disappeared so fast that I couldn't be sure.
Fingers trailed down my arm, making me jerk my hands down and Grayson's face appeared before me. "W-what—" I started to blurt out, but he stopped me with a hand over my lips as he tugged me up from the chair. A hush settled over the crowd as Grayson pulled me against his body. I stiffened for a moment before melting into his embrace as he swung me away from the crowd, putting my back to him. His hands trailed down my spine making shivers erupt as they chased after the places he touched.
