52
TATE
Licking my lips, I stay behind Havoc as she walks, adjusting the crotch of my Avri suit at the sight of that hot little ass moving. And then I remember that ass is mine, just like the rest of her, so I go to slap it—
Cooper catches my wrist.
I snarl at him, and he arches a brow. “You’re just gonna mess around with our Bonded’s ass in the middle of a shopping centre?”
“Yeah?” I scowl at him, not understanding the problem. “That’s my girl.” I point at my beautiful, ruthless Havoc, heart giving an insistent thump in time with my steel cock as I gaze intentionally at the back of her helmeted head. Then I move my finger lower. “That’s my ass.”
The dickhead rolls his eyes. “And what if she doesn’t agree?”
“It’s not about agreement—Ezla’s always been mine, and that includes every part of her.”
“That’s not—”
“Holy shit!” Tiger’s booming, excited voice cuts Cooper off, and I glance at him before following his saucer-sized stare to the large store before us.
It’s shockingly white, probably for better visibility if the excessive number of fabrics in trillions of different colours, with every single shade imaginable, that I can see through the glass shopfront is any indication—I certainly wouldn’t be able to tell the minor differences in the colours of purple up front if it weren’t for the bright white backdrop.
Eyes skating upwards, I take in the elegant lettering on the front of the store:
TECHTIS BALLROOM
Can’t wait.
Except I change my tune from sarcasm to a genuine I can’t wait when my eyes find my girl again as she marches into the store like the goddess of death and destruction she is.
Wherever she goes, I’m thrilled to follow, so I shoot after her into that gargantuan shop of frills and tulle with all the enthusiasm of the younger Gold brother when he’s doing . . . well, anything.
“Come.”
“Inside you?” I return immediately, scraping my teeth over my bottom lip, blood pumping blisteringly hot at the thought of finally sinking inside that wet heat and marking Havoc up with me in the most primal way.
She unsurprisingly ignores me as she walks further into the shop, me and the other guys trailing behind her, and I only shift my burning stare elsewhere to check out the validity of Scotty’s words when he says, “There’s no one here. Where is everyone?”
“I have reserved the place for a couple of hours.”
“The entire place?” Alby whispers, head swivelling around to absorb everything in wonder.
“No. Just the underwear sections,” Havoc says flatly, and a grin stretches across my face at the same moment Tiger cheers, “Oh, Wifey! Your jokes are really speaking to me! I am loving this newly revealed side of you! Please give me more!”
“No.”
He pouts dramatically.
Stopping our group in the middle of the large divide of empty space between the men’s and women’s sections—the men’s area travels miles back on the left-hand side, while the women’s is a mirror image spanning the entire right side of the place—our girl continues, “You will go and look for your own clothes while I am in the women’s section. ”
Tiger whines like a kicked puppy to reflect my own inner grouching. “No, Ezzy! Why?! I want to spend time with you.”
Her visor stares him down, emotionless.
“I will join you when I am done. Start with your main items: your shirts, shoes, and suits. They must be black or grey, and any accessories must be gold—”
“WOOOHOO!” Tiger explodes abruptly . . . then starts dancing around us with his arms waving about and no coordination whatsoever. “Didn’t I tell you?! I knew there was a good reason my favourite colour’s gold! It’s ‘cos Ez and us are gonna rock it at the Ball!”
“Yes, you did, brother.” Scotty smiles in amusement as he watches him continue to twirl about.
“As I was saying, I have chosen gold for our theme colour,” Havoc continues once Tiger’s back in place beside Alby and settled down a bit. “Of course, we must look the best, so I reserved it for our Bonded group right away.”
“Yes, DN! High five!” The hand Tiger holds up is not clapped by Havoc but his brother when she doesn’t move a muscle. “Ezzyyyyy!” he wails, tipping his head back.
“You have an hour and a half, although I doubt you will need that long, and I will find you before then. Grab a bag each.” Havoc swivels around and disappears among the rails of fabric before anyone can attempt to protest.
***
“Bow tie,” I growl, snatching one up from the display. “Looks more elegant.”
Scotty scoffs. “No way—standard tie’s classier.”
Competitive streaks flaring up, we turn into a pack of rabid animals squabbling over prey . . . except we’re arguing over whether Havoc prefers regular ties or bow ties.
“No, brother! A bow tie is way better! Much more character!”
“Nah,” Cooper mutters. “Regular tie. Bow ties are for pretentious snobs.”
The debate intensifies, with each of us trying to one-up the other, giving our reasons for why the tie we’ve chosen is the superior option. Even Alby gives his opinion, though with no explanation, our voices instantly quieting down to hear his softer one:
“I like the bow tie . . .”
A beat.
And then we’re all quarrelling again.
“Wait . . .” I mutter halfway through my very good point about bow ties. “I changed my mind. How’s Havoc meant to drag me closer by my bow tie? It’ll have to be a regular one.”
“Noooooo!” Tiger cries, grabbing the sides of his face as if this is the end of the world, the large bag of all his items in his right hand smacking him in the chest as he does. “We’ve lost a vote! Bestie, back me up!”
“Uhhh . . .” Alby squeaks.
“The reasons are simply too good, so he can’t get them out!” Tiger insists vehemently, snatching up one of the bow ties from the gold accessories area we’ve been in for what feels like hours at this point, and he waves it all over the place for emphasis.
“I don’t know,” Scotty mutters, looking unusually serious about this. But I guess we’re all treating this like it’s life or death—gotta impress our girl, after all. “I feel like Ezla might prefer ties.”
“Scottyyyyyy! You’re meant to be on my side—”
“What.” We all go rigid. “Are you doing?” that robotically modified, sexy-as-all-hells voice finishes.
Tiger peeks over his shoulder cautiously.
Then flashes a lazy smile.
“Ezzy! My future wife!” He turns towards her fully, bow tie in one hand, bag containing his dress shoes, grey suit, and white button-up shirt in the other. “We can’t decide on the normal tie or the bow tie.”
“And you did not think it would be wise to choose whichever each of you prefers individually?”
We all blink at her.
Scotty flushes red and brings a hand up to cup the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah . . . no, Love. We didn’t.”
Cooper clears his throat, clearly just as embarrassed.
I, for one, am not. We need to look our best for our Bonded. The debate was necessary.
“Would you not prefer us matching?” I grunt, folding my arms across my chest.
“I do not particularly care as long as it is gold. Any minor differences help show your character.”
“Oh . . . well, in that case,” Scotty begins, shifting his attention to us for a moment, “grab whatever one you want, then we’re on to cufflinks, if you guys want them?” We all dip our chins in agreement, and he continues, “Okay, good. Ezla? You already done?”
“Yes. And I have paid.”
Appalled gasps sound from us all.
“You paid?!” Tiger cries, a hand to his chest as though he might have a heart attack from the sheer horror of it.
I might do, too.
“You paid for your own things when we’re right here?” I rumble, hands clenching into fists.
Scotty frowns. “Love, I know you’re like . . . extremely well-off, but we’re men, if you haven’t noticed—your men. And I’d like to buy you things. Especially in situations like this.”
“I do not even use my father’s money, but I have so many credits from The Bonding Games with my high Score and top performance, as well as the audience’s love for me, that I would be able to live extremely comfortably for thousands of years to come if I could remain alive that long,” Ezla informs us, deadpan.
Cooper’s brows scrunch lower than Scotty’s.
“Okay, first of all, bloody hell. But second, that is so not the point. We still want to pay for your things. Besides, we’ve all got a fat chunk of credits ourselves right now—it’s not like this shop’s stuff would make a huge dent in that, even though it is all ridiculously expensive. ”
“What is the point when I have more?”
He drags a hand down his face. “It’s just . . . Ugh. Scotty, please explain.”
“It shows our respect—that we want to take care of you and provide for you,” he tells Havoc.
“I can do both of those things myself.”
“Yeah, Love,” Scotty sighs, rubbing at his temple. “But that doesn’t mean you have to. We’d like to provide things for you too. Think of it like . . .” he tips his head before settling on, “extra.”
“Hm.”
Another heavy exhale from him at her response. If it can even be called that.
“I—I’d like to buy you things sometimes . . .” Alby pipes up, face burning from the attention that briefly shifts to him.
“Hmmm . . .” Havoc’s eyes no doubt narrow behind her visor as she actually thinks about it this time. “I will consider it.”
Cooper’s brows shoot up his forehead, Tiger cheers and high-fives his “bestie”, who blinks like he can’t believe he was the one to somehow convince our Bonded, and I grumble about my girl’s favouritism under my breath. I should be her favourite, not any of these fuckers.
“It is not favouritism. I hate you all equally,” Havoc announces, either reading our physical reactions or our mental ones.
Cooper’s jaw clenches. “Why are you always lying, Vengean—”
Crimson illuminates the neck of his Avri suit in under a second as one of her daggers presses up against it.