Chapter 24
Star
Time flies…
Even when you know you have an endless supply of it ahead of you.
It had been a little over a week since Max had made Heather conveniently disappear, and Retail Haven’s annual Halloween event was winding to a close.
I’d never wanted kids, but watching Max and Damon hand out candy to the ones who stopped by Sizzling Discourse—while hilariously dressed as a pair of store-bought vampires—had warmed my heart.
Still beating… for now.
The second shift of trick-or-treaters had been the costumed teenagers, and I was just putting the finishing touches of shimmer on a cute blonde dressed as a slutty Tinker Bell.
“Oh, my GAWD, Becky, look at this makeup!” she called over to her friend when I handed her the mirror. “I look bodacious!”
I would have expected myself to flinch at the memories triggered by that particular word, but instead, I grinned wide, swept up in their enthusiasm. “You totally do. And I hope you have an awesome time at your rager tonight.”
To my shock, blondie set down the mirror and yanked me into a hug. “I will—thanks to you! Honestly, I was kinda nervous about going because my crush is gonna be there, but now I feel like the hottest bitch on the block.”
I rapidly blinked away tears, but her bestie Becky saved me from having to reply by sauntering over to inspect my handiwork. “Damn.” She whistled low before nodding at me. “Girl, you should do this professionally.”
“Funny you should say that,” Max interrupted, smiling proudly as he handed business cards to both girls on my behalf.
“Tonight was the debut of Star Baby Cosmetics. This seasoned professional is now available for appointments and walk-ins, right here at Sizzling Discourse… Although, I have a feeling walk-ins will be hard to come by once word gets out.”
He’s such a zeek.
But I’m way into it.
“Righteous.” Slutty Tinker Bell tucked the card into her tiny sequined purse. “I’ll call to make an appointment for winter formal asap, then I’ll spread the word to the rest of the cheer squad because, like Becky said—damn, girl.”
High praise indeed.
The teens left, and Damon pulled down the security gate while I cleaned up my new makeup counter. I was so focused on my task, I gasped in surprise when Max suddenly pressed himself against me from behind.
“Happy Halloween, baby,” he murmured, running his cheesy plastic fangs over my neck before spitting them out into his palm. “Disgusting. I don’t know who thought these passed for real fangs.”
I turned to face him, laughing as I used a tissue to retrieve the neon-green, spit-soaked accessory and toss it into the trash can. “Someone who hasn’t been lucky enough to experience the real thing, I guess.”
Max’s smile grew as his real fangs lengthened, his blood-tinged gaze dropping to my neck… and the new leather collar I was wearing.
His collar.
A few days ago, I was admiring the Sizzling Discourse collar display when Max walked by. Knowing he enjoyed being my stylist, I asked him to pick one out for me, but he reacted in such an uncharacteristically flustered way, I immediately let it drop.
Damon later pulled me aside to explain what collaring meant in the BDSM community, and how to some, it was the equivalent of a wedding ring. Then my precious emo boy confided how Max had asked to collar him at one point, but he’d been so deep in his personal issues he’d refused.
Which he deeply regretted now.
All that did was make me more determined to get mine, and convince Damon he still deserved his as well. So earlier this evening—on All Hallows’ Eve, as the guys called it—the two of us cornered Max after closing and dragged him over to the display before formally asking to be collared.
With the help of matching pouts.
I knew Max would say yes, since he loved to spoil us, but what I hadn’t been prepared for was how emotional he became.
An actual tear rolled down his handsome face as he fastened the wine-colored collar around my neck, and when he attached Damon’s black studded one, Max practically collapsed into the other man’s arms.
“Happy Anniversary, Makisig,” Damon murmured into his hair. “Iniibig kita.”
Okay, I may have shed a tear myself.
Later on, I point-blank asked Damon what he’d said in that moment, because I was nothing if not a nosey bitch.
They said they wanted me up in their business.
So here I am!
Damon had grimaced, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d crossed a line. I knew Max had some serious trauma in his past that he didn’t really talk about—not even with his longtime love—but I also knew from personal experience that it could be a lot to carry on your own.
“Makisig is the name I was given when I was a child.” Max’s calm voice had us both spinning to find him leaning against the store counter. “However, it no longer fits who I am today—like how Brittany no longer fits you.”
Damon’s lips were pressed together in clear disapproval of that statement, but he otherwise didn’t argue.
Ooookaaaay…
Max breezily continued, “And iniibig kita means ‘I love you’ in Tagalog, but a deeper, yearning sort of love than what you’d use for family…” He abruptly cut himself off before smiling warmly at Damon. “It’s very formal and very romantic.”
This seemed to melt the other man’s broody glare a little, even if I could tell it was a big ol’ redirect.
“I appreciate you sharing,” I replied, just as casual. “I am deeply yearning to learn more about your heritage, so keep the Max lore coming.”
The usually chatty vampire had practically disappeared in a puff of smoke after that, but Damon had rewarded me with a wide, almost mischievous grin.
“Well played, gorgeous,” he’d chuckled. “He won't be able to resist you for long.”
That’s the plan!
That Max and Damon had been together since the 1880s still occasionally blew my mind—and don’t get me started on how Max was three hundred years older than that—but they made it clear I wasn’t an outsider in their relationship.
They also both fully acknowledged that I wasn’t seen as a magical “fix” for the existing baggage in their century-long relationship—and that they would be putting in the work to address those issues so future miscommunications didn’t fester.
In the end, we all just fit. They considered me their third, which was apparently a big deal in the vampire community, but they also refused to introduce me to their coven until after I’d been turned.
Which brings us to my evil plan for tonight.
Step one: Lure them into the lair…
“By the way, boys,” I called over my shoulder as I nonchalantly strolled toward the breakroom. “I crept away from the trick-or-treaters earlier and hid my panties beneath one of your pillows…”
The words had barely left my mouth before I was scooped up and thrown over someone’s shoulder—Max’s, judging by the scent of whiskey, cloves, and the promise of nasty sex. I shrieked with joy, gripping the ridiculous cape of his vampire costume for dear life, even though I knew he’d never drop me.
Neither of them would.
In record time—thanks, vampire speed—we were inside the lair, which had become my home as well.
After the confrontation with Heather, Max and Damon wanted me close, so I’d told my aunt that I’d found a place closer to work.
She’d wished me well, probably glad to finally wipe her hands of me and none the wiser that she’d almost been burned to a crisp by my ex-bestie.
There was no bad blood between us, but she’d also never felt like blood to me.
Not like my guys do.
I laughed brightly as I was tossed onto the plush satin of Max’s oversized coffin.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I settled in with the front-row seat of my vampires tearing off their costumes and clothes.
Curses were muttered and fabric ripped, with Max’s new Hawaiian shirt being the only item handled with care.
It was a prototype designed by Damon, featuring funeral lilies on a jet black background, and it made Max look totally fresh.
Like a goth Magnum, P.I.
“Feeling shy, baby?” Max teased, his gaze practically burning a hole in the clothing I was still wearing. “Why don’t you show our pet what he’s about to feast on.”
Damon groaned as I unzipped my leather miniskirt before slowly peeling it away and spreading my legs. That left me in nothing but a garter belt holding deceptively innocent white stockings, and my trusty underbust corset over a lacy white top.
Which is about to get sacrificed to the moon goddess, Selene.
Preening under their rapt attention, I ripped open the lace, allowing my already sensitive breasts to tumble out, unobstructed and ready to be played with.
“Fuck…” Damon rasped, wrapping a hand around his perfect cock and giving himself a rough stroke.
He looked ready to eat me alive, but he didn’t immediately make a move. Instead, he obediently waited for permission, just like he’d been trained to do.
Such a good pet.
“Go ahead,” Max commanded, his eyes fixed on my pussy like he was memorizing it. “Get her wet for me.”
Ramping up that vampire speed, Damon pounced, and I barely had time to yelp before my legs were thrown over his shoulders and his tongue was buried in my throbbing core.
“Damon!” I gasped when he moved onto my clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth as he plunged two thick fingers inside me.
The obscene sounds were soon drowned out by my moans, and I almost came on the spot when Max climbed into the coffin behind him.
“Ass up, pet,” Max yanked Damon into position—rougher than how he handled me. “Let’s see which one of you comes first this time.”
Damon lifted his head with a gasp, his pretty eyes rolling backward as Max forced his way inside.
Probably with barely any lube.
Just how he likes it.