Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
SLOANE
“ B abe!” Simon’s voice echoes throughout the small apartment, tone deafening so I can hear him over the music, conveniently seconds after the absolute pounding our door just took. Between his shout, the envy over the poor door , and the liquor burning at my throat, I choke lightly, forcing my eyes to water against the freshly applied mascara. “Are you decent? They’re here!”
I poke my head out of the bathroom, coughing lightly. “I mean, I’m in a t-shirt and booty shorts? I think they’ll be fine. They’ve probably seen me in worse condition.”
Instantly, his face turns bright red.
Dread sinks in my stomach as I stare at him. “What? Oh my God, I knew it! They have caught us having sex, haven’t they?”
With a firm hand, he hits his left peck, almost like he’s forcing his heart to restart beating with the singular, Oscar-worthy hit. His response is quick and hurried as he shyly turns away from me, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. Yeah, a few months ago. They didn’t want to embarrass you, though.”
I groan as I turn back towards the bathroom, still needing to do my makeup. I was too busy cooking appetizers for the amount of testosterone that was about to grace our humble abode that I hardly realized it was later than preferred by the time I started getting ready.
Turns out, instead of just correcting my attitude this morning, Simon actually had hours of edging and begging in store for me.
I hate him, just as much as I adore him.
“What do they care if they see my ass cheeks, then?” I shout against the deafening tones of Hollywood Undead’s Comin in Hot. “Maybe they’ll like it, knowing I’m a moaner now. Just let them in.”
I could have sworn I heard the distinct sound of my husband’s snort, even over the music.
He’s lucky that he’s so pretty.
Leaning over the bathroom sink, I sing the lyrics with a little dance as I wipe away at the residue from my choking fit, only to reapply the mascara once again. The strength of the tequila is coating my entire body in a sense of comforting, buzzing warmth, and it would be a damn shame to not dance it out.
“Well, if this isn’t a lovely sight, I don’t know what is,” I hear to my right, forcing me to look away from my blush-coated reflection and directly into the humorous gaze of Rhodes.
I smile at him, right as his eyes go down and nearly lock on my boobs. Right where my nipples are pointed, outlined by the piercings they carry. “Happy football Sunday to you, too, silly goose.”
He swallows roughly before moving back to my face. His eyes are hard, and it nearly feels analytical. “Happy day, beautiful. Are you ready for the night of your life?”
I snort and turn back towards the mirror once again, feeling my own ass bounce lightly from the movement. I can only hope that the tattoo that says good girl in a dainty script, right below my ass cheek, catches his attention. “Oh yeah,” I say sarcastically, “I can’t wait to watch teams I don’t care about while you and the mongrels eat all my food. Why did I agree to hosting this year?”
Before I know it, he’s straying from his typical eye roll response, and instead I find myself staring at his bulky reflection as he walks into the bathroom with me.
The small, tight bathroom.
Small enough that we’re forced to stand with his front pressed against my back. I gasp lightly as I swear I feel the shape of a bulge pressing into the indent of my back.
“Are you always such a smartass?”
I swallow roughly as I match his intense gaze in the mirror. This feels innately intimate. More intimate than my possessive husband would ever be comfortable with. “You know the answer to that.”
He laughs darkly as he bends down. The motion forces me to shiver against him. He keeps eye contact with me, even as he brushes the barest kiss against my t-shirt-covered shoulder. “That, I do.”
It’s Simon’s voice that breaks the tense, lust-filled bubble surrounding us, forcing me to lean away from Rhodes and even closer to the mirror—that shows my face being the color of a firetruck. “Glad to see you two are actually getting along for once. Do you have room for one more?”
My eyes snap to him, alarmed.
He’s not angry.
He’s not…turning into a caveman.
What the fuck?
Rhodes speaks for me, our eyes landing on one another once more in the mirror before a sly smile takes over his face. “I think we always got along. I just didn’t realize how much I was allowed to appreciate her, though.”
“Appreciate her all you’d like. You were the only one who didn’t flirt with her at the con, anyways.”
Rhodes turns away from my blushing, panicked, lust-filled gaze, only to lock heavy eyes with Simon. With a nod, he pats his shoulder in some weird, brotherly way before he walks away in the direction of our living room. But not before he throws the most confusing sentence over his shoulder. “Yeah. The amount of changes that can happen so soon, right?”
Simon swallows before leaning into the bathroom and kissing me on the cheek. “You do look beautiful,” he mutters, before following after Rhodes.
And as Hollywood Undead continues playing, I’m left thinking, once again…
What the fuck?
“C’mon, dude,” Nyx says as she grabs my Kindle from me as I sit on the couch. “We’re at your party, and you’re still hiding in a corner, reading? This is only allowed at other people’s houses.”
I pout and give grabby hands towards my Kindle. “Hey! I was at a good part!”
“What are you even reading now? Don’t you have enough physical books?”
I blush and tip my head back, groaning. I already started to feel overstimulated hours ago, courtesy of the skin-tight jeans I changed into—which drive Simon crazy—and reading was my comfort activity in said moments. Paired with the guy’s shouts as we grew closer to halftime, I was antsy as fuck. And probably needing more liquor. “Just some new, smutty, romance. It doesn’t matter. Gimmie!”
“Or what, little heathen? Are you going to pout and beg for it back? I’d like to be called Mommy, if you’re going to.”
All at once, my brain clouded in a mountain of dazed lust as I stared up at her.
For fuck’s sake.
I need them all to stop being so intense.
I push through the fog covering my brain. The fog that, coincidentally, is reminding me that it’s been years since I’ve let another woman touch me, and damn, if I didn’t miss it.
I’ve missed begging for a Mommy.
“I need another drink.”
She smiles brightly, nodding her head, and throws my Kindle to the other side of the couch. Directly on Asher’s lap, which is thankfully covered by a pillow as he stares intently at the screen. “That’s my girl. Get me one too, please!”
I groan as I stand up. “Yes, Mommy,” I draw out.
I stop in my tracks, right as I go to enter the kitchen. Because the fucking power cuts off, forcing us all into a bubble of dark silence.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
“Simon!” I shout, moving back towards the living room. “What the fuck? Is it the snowstorm?”
All three of the men, and even Nyx, stare at the now blackened-out TV screen in a fit of annoyance and shock.
“Okay,” I say, annoyance heavy in my tone. “No one is more pissed off than me. I really wanted to see that concert! Simon, does our apartment have a backup generator?”
He shakes his head as he turns to me, eyes heavy.
Damn.
He must have really wanted to see that last play of the night.
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t even think we have any flashlights.”
My shoulders slump down. “Are you kidding? We have nothing but scented candles that’ll make our apartment smell like a bakery?”
Nyx speaks up, excitement in her tone as she goes to stand. “You guys have a flashlight! I saw one under the sink when I had to get tampons last time I was here. I’ll go get it. I have to pee, anyway.”
Rhodes speaks next. “I have some at my place? Asher, you wanna check your apartment, too?”
Asher’s face blushes bright red as all eyes fall on him, and he mutters shyly, “Yeah, yeah I can go check. See if I can find anything.”
Simon claps, and automatically, they’re all standing. I squint at every one of them. “You all have to go check for flashlights? You know this is how the main character normally gets murdered, right? Why do I have to be alone?”
“Rude!” Nyx shouts from the bathroom. “I’m right here, you drunk bitch. Let them go be boys. Maybe the murderer will get them first.”
Simon chuckles and leans down to kiss my cheek. “You’re fine. Everything is fine. We’ll be right back, okay?”
Rhodes continues behind him, while Asher keeps his head down and walks right out the door, still blushing profusely. “No one is getting through to Simon and me, Sloane. Chill out. We’ll feed them Asher if they do,” Rhodes offers.
And somehow, seconds later, I find myself standing alone in my dark and quickly cooling apartment.
My anxiety turns on its head as I make my way back into the kitchen.
Now I really need that drink.