Chapter 2 - Jade #2
The heels I chose for the night are the same ones I wore to dinner at the banquet the night Randall finally got what he deserved.
I’d lost them when he chased me through the warehouse, but the guys had found them when they were looking for me later, and I’m honestly happy they did.
They are my favorite pair, even with the shit night that they remind me of.
Something about the lacy straps that go up my legs is so cute.
I slip my feet into the bottoms before turning back to Zander, and once again, I’m hit with a memory of my shoe on his chest as he laced it up for me.
It’s been years since that night, but I remember it as if it had just happened. I stalk back toward him, careful not to step on the laces and make a fool of myself. That would kill the whole vibe I’m going for right now.
I stop a foot or so away from him, and he lifts a brow at me, clearly unsure what I’m doing here. Lifting my leg, I hold his gaze as I bring my foot to rest square on his chest.
His eyes rake over my leg, moving from my foot all the way up to my panties, which I’m positive are on full display for him. I feel the deep breath he sucks in, and when his eyes meet mine again, I know he’s remembering that night the same as I am.
“Fuck me, Doll…” His hands come up to rub at my calf, and damn it, his fingers feel amazing.
Those damn calluses run up my leg, and he knows damn well I love the way they feel.
I bite my lip hard enough to get ahold of myself and press my toes harder into his chest, which only makes him smile.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Mommy. ”
That stupid nickname makes me roll my eyes, and he chuckles, knowing I hate it. Doll is one thing; he’s called me it for so long that I had no choice but to accept it, but Mommy is new, and I refuse to accept it, no matter his reasoning.
Without further pushing, he laces the straps around my leg, wrapping them all the way up to just under my knee, where he ties them in a bow. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss on some of the exposed skin, lingering for a moment so that his warm breath fans over my leg.
With his lips still hovering close, he looks up at me through his lashes.
“Other one, Doll.”
I snatch my leg back from him and glare because this game, while still fun, was meant to tease him, not me.
Instead of pressing my foot to his chest, I simply rest it on his knee and move to lace it myself.
I don’t get to, though. He bats my hands away with a tsking sound before taking the straps in his hands and once again wrapping them around my leg and tying them off in a bow.
With my shoes taken care of, the last things I need are an expensive necklace and my clutch.
Moving to my dresser, I pull out one of the necklaces that Kratos got me for Christmas last year.
It’s a simple rope chain, but the charm is a beautiful jade green heart that he swore he couldn’t resist. Unfortunately, with my wig, nobody will see how well it matches my hair, but I know, and I love having something from them.
Which is also why I grab the charm bracelet that holds a few charms from each of them.
Honestly, at this point, I have more charms than could ever fit, even if I made it a necklace.
I just rotate them out every once in a while, but no matter what, those first few they gave me stay.
Sue me, I’m a sentimental bitch now, it would seem.
“Let me.” He doesn’t give me time to respond before he takes the necklace from my hands. I slip the bracelet on and can’t help but smile, looking down at it and all the little charms.
Zander unclips the necklace, moving it to let it lie across my collarbone.
I gather the brown wig hair and lift it carefully out of the way.
I hear the clasp and feel the cool metal as he releases it, letting it rest on the back of my neck.
I expect him to step away, but I should’ve known better.
Instead, he moves close so that his lips ghost over the back of my neck while his hand snakes around my throat, forcing my chin up until my head falls back against his chest. Still, his fingers continue up until he presses one into my mouth, and of course, my first reaction is to suck on it before I realize that’s a bad idea and bite him instead.
With a chuckle, he drops his hand, and I move away from him, needing to put distance between us before my brain can do more stupid shit.
“Damn, you look like a fucking dark angel of vengeance. Is it wrong that I’m jealous of a man who will be dead in just a few hours?” he asks, looking me up and down as he circles around me, shaking his head.
“If I don’t die at your hands, I’ll protest. No way these fucks get to die in such a sexy way, and I don’t.
” He’s whining more to himself than to me at this point, so I ignore him, moving to the couch to grab my clutch.
With how short and fitting this dress is, there’s no room for weapons or anything else, but Elio had an Italian designer make me a few clutches to help with that.
This one, for example, looks like most of the others I’ve seen in stores.
It’s a black, quilted leather bag with a gold clasp and a matching strap, though I’ve opted to take the strap off for the night.
When you open it up, most would assume it’s the same as any other clutch, but if you turn the lock, it opens another bag area that holds my knives from Zan, a syringe from Spencer, and a gun from Rick.
Not everything I’d like to have, but given the limited space, it does well enough.
“Yes, death at Mommy’s hands is the only way to go.” His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back into his chest, and I feel the hard press of his cock on my lower back.
Pushing out of his hold, I turn to glare at him.
“Stop calling me that.”
We’ve had this conversation what feels like a hundred times already, yet here we are.
The smile on his lips turns up into something dark but still playful, and while it might make others realize something’s wrong upstairs with him, all it does is make my knees weak.
I’m a sucker for his more psycho parts. His pinkie collection and love for pain resonate with something inside of me that I never knew was there before him.
Something only we understand.
“No can do, Mommy. You put your cock in my ass, which makes you Mommy. Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” he says with a shrug, not looking the least bit sorry.
“It’s not my cock, Zan,” I say with a laugh, turning to my mirror to ensure my makeup and hair are still acceptable after the little tease show I just put on.
Reapplying my lipstick, I hear him walk up behind me and flick my eyes up to meet his in the mirror.
“I knew it. That was Rick’s strap-on, wasn’t it?” His eyes are wide, and he presses a hand to his chest in mock horror, his face straight in a way I could never manage if I were him.
Whirling around, I smack him with the bag, and he laughs before quickly snatching my wrist when I move to hit him again.
The guys have come a long way since I used to beat them on the mat, and while I still can, it’s nowhere near as easy as it used to be, especially with how quick Zan is.
He pushes my arm up, walking me backward until my back hits the mirror, which thankfully is old and heavy, so it won’t be easily pushed over.
“If you're going to spank me, you best go get Rick’s dick, Mommy.” He moves in close so that he breathes each word right against the sensitive skin of my throat, and damn him and that nickname.
Two can play that game, though.
With the hand that he doesn’t hold captive, I get it between us before moving down to grip him through his slacks. He’s so fucking hard it’s a wonder he hasn’t busted the damn zipper, and he hisses a curse between his teeth, even with my hand still outside of his clothes.
“If I were going to go get Rick’s dick, it would be to ride it.” He lets out a growl at that, letting me know he doesn’t hate that idea. No, Zander’s not above inviting himself to join. “Or maybe I could…”
He presses into me, damn near stealing the air from my lungs.
“I guess we should go if you want to know what else Mommy might have in store for you.” My voice is only a breath, but it’s enough for him to hear. His lips are on mine the next second, hard and punishing and so fucking delicious that I don’t want it to end, but I know it has to.
Pushing him back, he goes easily enough as we both suck in air. My red lipstick is smeared on his lips, but considering how badly I want to coat him in it, I’d say that's pretty good.
I make my way to my bathroom, wet a cloth, and fix myself before bringing it out to Zander to clean him up as well.
“Nah, I’m good, Doll.” He shakes his head, gently pushing my hand away when I try to wipe off the smeared lipstick, instead dropping his lips to the back of my hand.
“It’s not like anyone but the guys will see me until it’s show time, so why not give them something to be jealous of?” He wiggles his brows at me in a way that is so damn corny but also so very Zander that I can’t help but laugh.
These guys are so ridiculous always trying to one-up each other.
I reapply my lipstick, and this time, he manages to stay away.
Poor Zan looks like he’s about to combust by the time we head for the door, but we both know damn well he’ll get his later.
That’s probably the only reason he’s still holding onto his control right now.
He can act like he would skip this to fuck me, but we both know he enjoys this just as much as I do.
“Damn,” Trent says when we walk into the living room to meet everyone, and I pause for a moment.
I’d expected a better reaction, but unless my eyes were deceiving me, he sounded disappointed.
Maybe this dress wasn’t it?
It’s not until he fishes in his pocket and pulls out some cash that I understand.
“What were we betting on?” I ask, moving around Zander so that I can be properly seen.