Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
Maverick
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel as I thought about the night ahead. We were going out for our one-year anniversary date, and this time, I’d promised Damon the date to top all dates.
“Don’t I get any hints?” Damon called from the bedroom, where he was already dressing. We’d had a little fun in the shower before I shooed him out so I could actually get clean.
“Nope!” I called, my voice muffled by the towel over my head. I squeezed the moisture from my hair—now a metallic blue rather than my usual pink or purple—and scrubbed down the rest of my body before reaching for my styling products.
Damon chuckled, and I caught his eye in the mirror. “My pretty boy,” he murmured.
“It’s a special occasion. Should I not make an effort?”
He grinned and came up behind me, pushing my clothes out of the way so he could brace one hand on the counter next to my hip.
“Oh, I like it when you try for me, sweetheart.” He traced the shell of my ear with his tongue, making me shiver, then stepped back and smacked my ass. “Now, hurry up! I want to see this amazing date you’ve promised.”
Goosebumps rushed over my skin, and my cock plumped, but the asshole known as my boyfriend darted out of the bathroom, leaving me hot and bothered.
With an annoyed huff, I got back to styling my hair and shaving. Once done, I reached for my clothes. Huh. My underwear was missing.
I searched the counter and then bent down to look on the floor. Nothing. Huh.
I wrapped a towel around me and went into the bedroom. It was empty. Damon must have gone out to hover by the front door, as if that would move me along any faster.
I opened the top drawer of my dresser where I kept my underwear.
My eyes widened. “What the fuck?”
Rows of frilly, lacy panties filled the drawer. Panties I had never worn or even really considered wearing.
Meanwhile, my usual briefs—colorful but basic—were gone. I dug through the silky fabric, but there wasn’t a trace of anything else to wear. And why would there be?
“Damon!” I shouted.
He peeked into the room with a shit-eating grin. “Yes, dear?”
I held up a cherry red scrap of silk. “Where did all these panties come from?”
“Do you not like your anniversary gift?”
My eyes narrowed. “A gift?”
“What else would it be?”
What else, indeed? Maybe a prank? Maybe one that called for revenge? That could be it.
My eyes narrowed. “And all my old underwear is missing because…”
“There just wasn’t room in the drawer. Besides, out with the old and in with the new, right? Isn’t that the saying?”
Oh, this man was going to payyyyyy.
“You took my underwear out of the bathroom so I’d have to wear one of these, didn’t you?”
“Oh, look at the time. We really should go, don’t you think? We’ll be late for this amazing date you planned, and that would be a shame.”
I pointed toward the doorway. “Get the hell out.”
He barked a laugh.
“I’m serious. You don’t get to watch me put these on.”
His smile dropped, transforming to a pout. “But your ass will look so good. Don’t you want me to see?”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Get out of here, you wanker.”
“Wanker?” he said with a laugh. “You’ve been watching too much British TV, babe.”
“Fine. Get out of here, you dick!”
He laughed and retreated, leaving me to pull on his little prank unless I wanted to go commando. A thought popped into my head, and I crossed the room to tug open his underwear drawer.
Damn it. He was too smart. He’d already cleared it out too.
With a grumble, I stepped into the little panties. It wasn’t that I was opposed to sexy underwear, even of the feminine variety. It’s just that I hated to let Damon get away with a prank.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door so he couldn’t spy on me, then tugged them up my thighs, cramming my dick into the too-small compartment. “Fuck, these are tiny,” I muttered.
My dick, even soft, made the fabric bulge lewdly, and my balls kept trying to escape out the side. I rearranged my junk three times and finally got myself situated enough to move on.
Next, I pulled on some jeggings that were skin-tight—at least they’d keep my balls in place in that tiny scrap of underwear—and a low-cut, clingy maroon top that exposed most of my pectoral muscle.
I added a matching red choker made of ribbon, gave my eyelids a dusting of shimmery blue to match my hair, and slicked on some lipgloss because Damon always stared at my lips like a desperate man when they were nice and shiny.
I made a kissy face in the mirror, spreading the gloss evenly, then winked at my reflection. All right, time to get this show on the road.
I joined Damon in the living room. His gaze trailed over me from top to bottom, and he swallowed hard enough his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I hope you don’t expect me to keep my hands to myself all evening.”
“I would be offended if you did.”
That was all the permission Damon needed. He closed the space between us, and his hands went straight to my ass, cupping my cheeks. He leaned in, but bypassed my mouth in favor of kissing my neck with a groan.
“So fucking hot, Mav.”
I chuckled, my hands gripping and squeezing his bicep. It seemed like yesterday I’d caught myself lingering on these muscles and scolding myself for it. Now I could touch as much as I wanted. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Damon had cleaned up in a set of dark jeans and a royal blue button-down, squarely in the nice but casual category. But then, he had no idea what the date was, so that seemed fair.
“Let’s go,” I suggested.
“Yes. Sooner we go, sooner we get home and I get to peel you out of these clothes and see you in your anniversary gift.”
I snorted. “What makes you think I’m going to let you see that?”
He let out a whine—an actual whine— at the idea of being deprived of that sight. “Pleeease.”
“I shouldn’t reward a prank. I should make you regret it.”
“And you will,” he soothed. “After you let me peel off your panties with my teeth.”
I shuddered, my cock trying to stir.
Abort, abort! I wasn’t sure how much pressure this flimsy fabric could take.
“Okay, fine! Just stop talking about it!”
He laughed. “What’s wrong, Mav? You like the idea too much?”
I shoved him to the door without answering. Sometimes a guy had to take the fifth.
We took my car, since I was the one with a destination in mind. I started up my Mini Cooper and reversed out of the driveway while Damon fidgeted and grumbled about how little space there was.
“A perfect date would start in a truck,” he said. “I’m gonna have to dock points off your score.”
“Oh, you’re grading me now? Well, I put up with your truck on the perfect date for me, so you’re gonna need to grade on a curve.”
“Hm. Fair. I’ll allow it just this once.”
I snorted and flipped on my blinker, turning onto Silverado, one of the streets that would take us to the highway.
“We’re leaving town?” Damon said, surprised.
“Need to text some friends?” I teased. “Make sure I’m not going to leave you for dead?”
“If you wanted me dead, you could just do it while I was sleeping beside you. Not sure my friends can save me when we live together.”
“Good idea,” I joked.
He flicked my thigh. “Be nice. This is supposed to be a romantic date.”
“Did anyone say anything about romance?”
He blinked a couple of times. The thought had never occurred to him that I might not just try to wine and dine him. “Hmm. What could it be then? Monster truck rally? Ax-throwing? Ooh, maybe a barcade.”
I snorted, because I’d considered every one of those possibilities. I knew my man and what he liked, but I also wanted to surprise him.
“Nope!”
He continued with the twenty questions as we drove along, until finally, we reached the destination. I swung into a strip mall and his eyes flicked through the options.
“Ink Anarchy, Ball Breakers Pool Hall, or Blush…” He paused. “That’s not a makeup store, is it?”
I laughed. “No.”
The windows were blacked out, and the sign was in neon red. It screamed sex shop.
“So, uh, which one of these are we going to?” he asked.
“Why don’t you guess?”
He chuckled. “Oh, man. I don’t know. Maybe we’re just here to get a couple of drinks, or maybe…” He swallowed. “Well, you did give me that dildo that one time.”
“Mm-hmm, and you did use it too, and like it. Didn’t you?”
He squirmed in his seat. I hadn’t planned to buy him a sex toy, but now I was rethinking that plan.
“So, is that the best date ever? Sex toy shopping?”
I smiled. “Not unless you’re really good. Come on.” I opened my door and got out. When Damon joined me on the sidewalk, I took his hand and led him into the tattoo parlor. “This is my epic date idea.”
Damon looked around in surprise. “Tattoos?”
“Matching tattoos,” I said. “If you’re game?”
He looked intrigued, gaze sweeping over my bare arms. “You don’t have any ink. You really want to do this?”
Unlike me, Damon had a couple of tattoos—just a decorative band around his upper right arm and a starburst on one shoulder blade.
“Don’t you like the idea of inking my virgin skin?” I teased.
He took a step closer to me. “Well, when you put it that way…”
A wiry man with bright copper hair and full sleeves of ink on his arms came strolling toward us. “You two ready for your appointment?”
“Yeah,” I said smiling. “You’re the guy I talked to on the phone, right? Fox?”
“That’s me.” He grasped my hand and gave it a quick pump, then reached for Damon. “Fox Reeves. You said the tattoos would commemorate your anniversary. How long has it been?”
“A year,” Damon said. “But it feels longer.”
I jabbed him with my elbow. “Be nice!”
“I meant that in a good way!”
Fox laughed as he led us back to his workstation. “Well, congrats on making it this far.”
The shop was mostly empty at this late hour, but there was one guy wiping down all the tables and equipment. He flashed a smile when we passed, and I got a flicker of deja vu, like maybe I’d seen him before.
“That was Emory, my apprentice,” Fox said. “He actually did the drawing for your design.”