“Not bad,” he says. “But if we’re picking out role play costumes for later, I have something else in mind.”
“Oh my God.” Zoey rolls her eyes with exasperated amusement. “I’m going to leave you three horn-dogs to your weird fantasies and get back to my official job of schmoozing all these donors.”
“The fundraiser is doing great,” I tell her. “Judging by the massive turnout, the free clinic should get all the funding it needs for the rest of the year.”
Zoey nods. “It’s definitely kickin’ in here tonight. The board wasn’t sure about doing an adults-only Halloween theme, but I finally wore them down.”
“You have a gift for this stuff,” I say, waving a hand at the room. “All the little details, from the decorations to the themed finger-foods — you’ve done a fantastic job pulling it together.”
“Thanks.” My best friend takes a deep breath and releases it with a satisfied smile.
We link arms and scan the room together, drinking in the festive sights, the stunning decorations, and the throng of excited party-goers dressed in spectacular costumes.
“I’m really happy with how it’s turned out,” she says. “It’s nice to end things on a high note, you know? Even if I’m going to miss the hell out of working with all these people. And you. I’m going to miss you so much.” Her face grows somber and her lip quivers a little.
“Oh God, don’t, not here. You’ll ruin all that gorgeous makeup,” I say, wrapping her in a big hug.
“I know, but I can’t help it,” she says, hugging me back.
“I’m going to miss you so much that I try not to think about it,” I whisper, holding her tight. It’s true. I’m so proud of her, but life just won’t be the same without having my best friend nearby, even if I do have a billion-dollar company to run and five amazing men clamoring for my attention.
When we finally pull apart, each of us quickly wipe away the moisture gathered in our eyes, and we laugh a little at having a bittersweet, emotional moment while standing in a crowd of people dressed as warlocks and cartoon characters.
“You won’t have time to miss me — you’re going to have the time of your life, I just know it,” I tell her.
She nods with an optimistic smile. “I hope so.”
I nudge her with my hip. “Besides, we’ll be able to video chat once in a while. You won’t get away from this ugly mug that easily.”
“Shut up,” she says playfully, shaking her head. Something in the distance catches her eye, and she darts her head to the side, peering over the crowd. “Oh! I see Doctor Konwalski just arrived. I need to go say hello. He promised he would bring his rich golf buddies.”
“Go get that money,” I tell her with a big smile. “You’ve got this.”
“Yep, I’m gonna go run down some donations. You keep those two in check.” Zoey looks past me to Jax and Gunner, who have politely stepped back a few feet to give my best friend and I some space. “Well, primarily that one,” she says, pointing right at Gunner.
He opens his arms innocently, an offended look on his face. “What are you talking about? I’m always on my best behavior. I’m practically an angel. Look, I even have wings.”
“Uh-huh. Right.” Zoey shakes her head, smiling as she walks away.
Once I’m alone with my men, I turn to Jax. “You said you had something else in mind when Gunner pointed out that nurse’s costume. What did you mean?”
He scans the crowd for a moment then nods his head at a couple about twenty feet away. My eyebrows go up as I take in their outfits. The black leather chaps and bare chest of the man. The form-fitting latex pants and tight corset on the woman. The studded collar around her neck and the chain connected to it, held tightly by the man.
Of course, he would. Leave it to Jax.
I tear my eyes off the couple, my pulse racing with the visions already playing out in my head, and give Jax a sideways look. “You want me to be your pet?”
He draws closer, pressing against me as his fingers graze across the sensitive skin of my neck. His hand wraps around my throat, his expression hungry.
“You already belong to me,” he says with a possessive growl. “I like when everyone else knows it — watching you turn heads, wanting what they can’t have.”
Those intense eyes of his pierce into me, and I press my thighs together as a delicious shiver runs through my body. Jax knows how to heat me up with just a simple touch and a few words. And I know well enough by now that the look in his eyes, that dark glimmer — it’s a promise. A hint of things to come.
Gunner grunts dismissively, interrupting my daydreams of the special playroom the twins built just for the three of us.
“I’m sticking with the sexy nurse,” he says to Jax. “You and your brother can go on with your bad selves and all that bondage, domination stuff. I prefer the sappy vanilla lovemaking, don’t I, Foxy Lady?”
I cock my head at him with a smirk. “Uh, I wouldn’t exactly call a fetish for very public sex... vanilla.”
Gunner shrugs. “It is compared to that medieval torture equipment Jax and Jude have in that playroom of yours.”
“Sometimes a woman needs to be made love to, to be caressed and touched gently,” Jax says as his fingers intertwine with the hair at the back of my head. He grabs a fistful and gives it playful but firm tug as his voice lowers and he leans closer. “And sometimes she needs to be tied up and fucked like the wild creature she is.”
I avert my eyes to the crowded ballroom, because my heart is racing at the sound of Jax’s husky voice. These five men of mine have pressed every sexual button I have. Sweet, rough, sensual, pampered, deprived. They’ve turned me into a woman who can’t get enough of them — all of them.
The overhead lighting in the ballroom dims to a low setting, and we all glance around to see what’s going on.
“Hey, look,” Gunner says, pointing to our right. “The dancefloor is open. Wanna dance?”
“I’d love to,” I tell him, then turn to Jax. This party really isn’t his scene, especially not the dancefloor, and definitely not while wearing tights, but I still ask, “Will you come with us?”
His face draws into a grimace as he looks out at the multi-colored strobes that have begun pulsating across the dancefloor in the center of the ballroom. But when he looks back at me, the resistance is slipping away.
“Well, I guess the invitation did say it’s an All Hallows’ Eve ball,” he concedes, “so I probably have to dance at least once.”
A thrill runs up my spine, and Gunner smiles at the news like it’s his birthday — and that man fucking loves his birthday. Getting Jax to come to an event like this is hard enough and getting him on the dancefloor is damn near impossible. But having both these guys on the dancefloor, with me in the middle? I’ve hit the jackpot tonight.
Gunner doesn’t waste a moment.
He takes hold of my hand and begins making a beeline for the strobing lights. I quickly reach out behind me and grasp onto Jax’s hand, the three of us winding our way to the dancefloor. Curious looks follow us as we go, and I know it’s not just because of Gunner’s outrageous costume.
They’re more used to it than I am — at first, at least. Before we met, they enjoyed the media stir it would cause when all five of them showed up to events like this with only Callie or Cora as their shared date. It didn’t take long for me to learn the sisters are platonic friends of theirs, just doing the guys a solid to help them get a little attention in the press. But it still means they have years of practice on me with the kind of lingering stares and whispers that follow us when we’re out in public together, me and my five men, the six of us together as one unit.
It took some time to accustom myself to being stared at by curious eyes, but I eventually got pretty good at identifying the emotions behind the looks. Sometimes there was disapproval and even disgust.
But mostly? Jealousy. Arousal.
I’ve accepted that most people don’t understand us. They don’t see
how two men — let alone five — would want to share the same woman. They have no idea how well we fit together, how satisfying our lives are, or the beautiful complexity of the relationship dynamics playing out behind the closed doors of our home. They think love has to boil down to a single choice. That there’s just one right person for each of us.
These guys, they found each other, as close friends and trusted business partners, the kind of bond that becomes a family. And then they found me — and I discovered I have not just one soul mate, but five.
People don’t understand why we refuse to choose.
But I know.
It’s how Gunner squares off on the dancefloor, pulling me against his chest. How Jax steps behind me, his body pressing against mine. How the men are so alike in the ways that matter but each has their own unique beat. And how, despite those differences, we still move together in harmony.
Gunner, soaking up the high-energy of the atmosphere, gives me just a little distance as he dances to the fast tempo of the drumbeat. Jax, smooth and fluid, like a fine whiskey, takes up all the distance between us and sways to the deeper rhythm of the bass.
So different, and yet, they both match me perfectly. Just as my other three men do, the six of us embracing life and love as one solid unit.
My hips remain glued to Jax’s, where I can feel him swell with arousal. His hands are at the hollow of my hips, gripping tightly, and his beard tickles the back of my neck as he inhales my scent. My hands travel down Gunner’s chest as he raises his arms above his head, shaking his goods for me.
I softly thrust my ass against Jax, his cock nestling between my cheeks as I run my fingers across Gunner’s body.
Tonight, they’re mine.
We’ve reserved a luxury suite at the top of the hotel, because the other guys have left for an out-of-town trip to meet with new clients and our house is too big, too full of laughter and love, to return to when half of us aren’t there.
Now that I have my guys on the dancefloor, I’m looking forward to our trip upstairs more every second. I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to leave this place without having them both. Jax, working his magic back there where he’s already making himself at home, and Gunner, filling me with that impressive cock of his.
I’m becoming uncomfortably horny, and the heat of a telltale flush is spreading along my skin. Gunner’s hands are against my sides now, traveling upward, coming dangerously close to my breasts, and my nipples harden in anticipation. I press back against Jax again, and he groans, his lips running along the sensitive skin just below my ear.
Christ. Thirty more seconds of this, and we’ll have to skip out of the party for a while. I’m sure Zoey wouldn’t mind if we headed upstairs for a couple minutes... or a couple hours.
A single male voice catches my attention as it shouts above the hum of conversation and pounding music. My eyes wander through the crowd to the edge of the dancefloor, and I catch sight of Zoey’s Cleopatra costume as she speeds past.
A few seconds later, another male voice cuts through the cacophony of sounds. I can’t make out what he said, but the shouting is coming from the same direction Zoey was making a dash for. Gunner’s enthusiastic gyrating slows down, and Jax’s rhythmic sway falters as I strain to see through the crowd.
“Was that Zoey who just went by?” Gunner asks.
“Yeah. Some guys were shouting over there. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Fuck,” Jax says, his voice coming out in a growl.
I twist around so I can see his face. “What is it?”
“It’s probably the two assholes I spotted earlier. They weren’t holding their liquor too well and were getting a little too handsy with their dates. I knew they were going to start some shit before the night was over.”
I don’t even question how Jax came to this conclusion. Everywhere we go, he’s always quietly monitoring the situation, like he’s expecting trouble. A holdover from his rough childhood or a habit honed during his outlaw days, I don’t know, but he never misses a thing and he’s never wrong. All of us have learned to trust his instincts.
My two men exchange glances and give each other that silent nod of understanding. And just like that, I’m being swept from the dancefloor and toward a corner of the room where a cluster of partygoers has formed.
I spot Zoey once more, this time heading out of the fray. I gesture to her, and she immediately steers toward me and the guys. Jax and Gunner form a strong bulwark on either side of me, their eyes trained on two men in togas who are jabbing fingers at a lone security guard from the hotel.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask Zoey.
Her eyes dart between us, and she hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Those guys are being dipshits. Several people have complained about them already. They said they lost their invitations after they came through security, but I’m pretty sure they’re party crashers.”
“And I bet they’re totally hammered,” Gunner adds.
“I can smell it on them,” Zoey confirms. “They reek of alcohol, and I didn’t even get too close, because they’ve been harassing any woman in a short skirt since they came in the doors.”
“I figured,” Jax says, his lips curling into a snarl. “Fucking drunk, sleazy assholes.”
Zoey’s hands are shaking nervously as she glances around. “If this turns into a situation, it could cause bad press for the clinic and I would have to go crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. I asked them to leave quietly, but they just got smart with me. I think I need to call the cops.”
A familiar gleam comes into Jax’s eye, and a smile curls at the corners of his lips. “Don’t bother. No reason to upset the party. We’ll handle this.”
She’s hesitant, but Zoey takes that big breath she does when she’s relieved. “Are you sure? I don’t want to disrupt your evening.”
“Oh, fuck yeah. We’re on it,” Gunner says. He rolls his neck and shakes his shoulders before tightening his fingers into fists. “We’ll get the assholes out of here in no time.”
The guys immediately begin making their way to the two drunks, who are raising their voices again and posturing like they’re tough guys.
I dart forward and lay a hand on each of their backs. “Hey, boys?”
They stop and turn to me. “Yeah?” Gunner asks.
“I know how... vigorous you can get, but no blood, please. I really like your costumes. Keep it lowkey for Zoey’s sake.”
“Oh, it’ll be over fast, that I promise you,” Jax says, and my heart skips a beat, because there’s nothing reassuring about his tone or the glint of malice in his eyes.
I draw in a steadying, calming breath as they move directly to the center of the fray where multiple men are now assisting the security guard in trying to calm the drunks down while also avoiding the fists the two are brandishing.
It’s Jax who takes the lead. “Let’s go, guys, time to leave. Party’s over for you.”
The guy in the purple toga has a smirk on his face as he swivels toward Jax. “Oh, yeah? Robin Hood come to take us to Sherlock?”
Gunner squints at the guy. “That would be Sherwood. How about you read some fucking literature before you spout off like a dumbass? And he’s not Robin Hood, anyway.”
Jax crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m Peter Pan, motherfucker.”
The purple toga guy bursts into laughter, and his friend in the white toga joins him.
“And what are you?” the white toga guys asks. “A flying ballerina? That’s some pretty gay shit, right there.”
Gunner straightens and squares his massive shoulders, one hell of an intimidating sight. “Tinker Bell is a fucking classic, asshole, and you’re about to get your ass kicked by a fairy. I believe you’ve been told to leave.”
Purple Toga is still cackling. “We’re not going anywhere. You and your longstocking friend can kiss our asses.”
Gunner moves quicker than one would think a man of his size is capable of. His hand is aro
und White Toga’s throat, and in a split-second, Gunner captures the guy’s wrist, spins him, and plants him face-first on the ground.
His purple-draped buddy stumbles forward with fists clenched, ready to come to the aid of his friend, but Jax shakes his head. “Don’t do it. Just get your shit and leave.”
The guy sneers. “Fuck you, you fairy-loving faggot.”
He pulls back to take a swing, but Jax reacts with lightning reflexes. His leg flies up as his body pivots to counteract the motion of his boot colliding hard with Purple Toga’s temple. The guy stiffens then topples backward onto his ass. He slumps onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling, stunned.
Gunner glances down at him then looks at Jax. “You probably gave him a concussion. Serves him right.”
Jax takes a knee beside the guy. “I’m not as nice as my friend. Now, I promised my lady I wouldn’t get any blood on my costume, so are you going to shut the fuck up and leave?”
The guy just blinks silently, his eyes wide.
Gunner gives Jax a come-here motion. “Get him up. I’ll carry him downstairs.”
Jax yanks Purple Toga guy off the floor and easily lifts his half-limp body, draping him over Gunner’s broad shoulder. Gunner stands, pulling the white toga guy up with him. He has the guy’s arm wrenched behind his back at an awkward angle and thrusts him toward Jax, who takes the guy by the back of the neck.
“Let’s go, asshole,” Jax says, pushing him forward.
The guy doesn’t even make so much as one whimper of protest as Jax begins marching him toward the nearby door leading to the service hallway. Gunner follows right behind him, Purple Toga hanging over his back, looking at the crowd with a mixture of surprise and confusion.
“Shit,” says Zoey. “If I knew that’s all it would take, I would have asked sooner.”
I stand beside my best friend as the guys disappear out of sight with the security guard sheepishly in tow. I turn to Zoey. “I don’t think it caused too much of a stir, do you?”
“No,” she says with relief, doing a quick scan of the ballroom. “It looks like the music and dancing kept most people from noticing those two jerks. Plus, I texted Doctor Konwalski and asked him to begin his speech early to distract everyone.”
Tempting Offer: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Code Book 6) Page 12
