by E. M. Moore
I squeal and reach over the seat to kiss him on the cheek.
His cheeks darken to a shade of crimson, and he looks away.
We’re silent when we head back to the tower. We stop in my apartment, and Magnum waits in the living room while I grab the dress and head into the bathroom connected to my bedroom to get dressed and put on a face full of makeup, so no one knows who I am.
I pull the purple dress with the sequin-studded bodice and tulle skirt on. It was one of the dresses Johnny bought for me that day I found him with the girl at the clothing store. I imagine he went back in afterward and told them to get whatever they had in my size and this happened to be one of them because I have no idea where he thought I was going to wear something like this unless it was to a costume party.
The mask and the dress are only a shade off, so it’s damn near a perfect match. I pull my hair up, placing it into a bun with the hairs underneath flaring out in a circle-like pattern. I darken my eye makeup so that they really stand out in the mask and then put a layer of lipstick on I would never normally wear. Then, I round out the outfit with a pair of black boots. Stepping back, I mostly look like a conglomeration of things, but I’m also hoping I look like a badass bird.
Ha. I don’t know.
I stand by the door. I haven’t heard Magnum on the other side even though I know he’s there. “Hey,” I call out.
“You need something?” he asks. The answer is immediate, and I smile.
“Close your eyes,” I tell him. “When I tell you to open them, tell me if you can still tell it’s me.”
“Okay,” Mag says without hesitation.
This should be a good test considering Mag’s seen me in a variety of different clothes, including sweats. Hell, I forgot, including stripped naked. “Remember it’ll be dark at Candy’s.”
“Got it. I’m ready.”
I pull the door open to find Magnum standing there, all dressed in black like usual. He has his eyes closed just like I asked. I take a moment to really look at him while his discerning gaze is closed off from me. His jaw is angular. Fierce. But the area around his eyes is kind when he’s not studying everything in sight like it could potentially be a threat. His beard is longer than I remember it being. A little disheveled. He needs a trim to shape it up.
“Are you out here?” he asks.
I shake myself out of my reverie. “Yeah, you can open up now.”
Magnum’s eyes flit open. He’s struck for a moment. His lips part incrementally. There’s a host of feelings in that blip of a second, but ultimately, his features school together again. He walks around me, taking me in from every side. Magnum definitely takes his job seriously. “In looks, you would pass as any other beautiful girl.”
My stomach seesaws, but when I chance a look at Magnum when he turns to face me, he has his bodyguard face on. “So, you approve?”
He nods once. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still be diligent. We’ll keep to ourselves in the shadows. Don’t do anything to bring attention to yourself.”
“I wouldn’t put us in jeopardy.”
He pulls his phone out, bringing up the video feed to the tower there. He checks it until it looks like we can leave and get down to the parking lot without being spotted. When he thinks it’s clear, he ushers me out the door. He relaxes as soon as we get in the elevator and then relaxes even more when we’re in the car. We’re picking Brawler up from his apartment since he has something Mag can wear, and Oscar is meeting us there.
We park a couple of blocks away from the apartment building and Brawler ambles toward us. He gets in the back with me and then hands a long black, thin piece of fabric to Magnum who holds it up. “What’s this?”
“I played Westley from The Princess Bride a few years ago for Halloween. Oh,” Brawler says, also handing over a toy sword. “This, too.”
Magnum takes the fake, plastic toy and laughs. “I think I’ll just use the mask. Thanks.” He pulls it over his face, lining up the eyeholes. The black piece of fabric covers his forehead all the way down to the tip of his nose. His beard is still showing, but it also acts as part of the disguise too. Magnum can’t possibly be the only red-haired guy with facial hair.
“It’s a good thing you have a penchant for wearing black,” I tease, noticing the black tactical pants and black shirt he has on match the mask perfectly.
He glances at me through the rearview mirror. It’s still his eyes, but with the mask on, he oddly looks like he’s letting more of himself come through. His lips quirk up. “I knew the black attire would come to my rescue one day.”
Brawler puts his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me to him. “You look beautiful.”
“As do you,” I say. I’ve only ever seen Brawler in t-shirts, so it’s something else to see him in a button-down shirt. He’s not wearing a mask or any sort of costume, but it also won’t be odd for him to be out at a costume party in the Heights. The same with Oscar. It’s only Mag and I who have to worry about being spotted.
It doesn’t take us long to get to Candy’s. Instead of parking in the back where Mag usually parks for Johnny and me, we ditch the car a couple of blocks away and walk in. The closer we get, the more it’s apparent we’re headed in the wrong direction. There aren’t a lot of costumes, per se, but there are a lot of women in scantily clad dresses. There are a few who are wearing masks like mine, but none of theirs are as intricate as the one I’m borrowing from Oscar’s mom.
“Follow my lead,” Mag says. Because we’re not associated with the Crew tonight, we wait in a line like everyone else. The up and down look I get from one of Dunnegan’s security guys makes my stomach churn, but I’m also pretty sure it’s the reason why we’re let in. The guard takes my hand and pulls me beyond the rope. I grip onto Magnum’s hand because he’s the closest to me and I want to make sure he and Brawler get in as well.
“Save me a dance, sexy.”
Both Brawler and Magnum eye the guard, but as soon as we’re inside, he hits on the next girl. Magnum moves in front of me, still gripping my hand in his so I can easily follow him through the thick crowd. There might even be more people here than there were for my first after party. What a great thing for Johnny. His after parties have really been helping to bring Candy’s to the forefront, and I’m also excited that it’s turning into less of a strip club and more of a nightclub.
Brawler takes my other hand, and we move into a booth in the back. It’s one of the only ones left, and it’s definitely secluded, which is probably why no one else has taken it before us. People don’t come to these things to hang out in the back, unless they want to be concealed.
As soon as we sit, Brawler takes his phone out and messages Oscar where we are. I handed my phone off to Magnum earlier, so he could keep it safe, but also in case Johnny calls. The last thing I need is for Johnny to call and me be too busy to answer. He’d be suspicious right away.
Oscar strides to our booth five minutes later. He’s slicked his hair completely back. The shorn sides highlighting his mop of dark hair on top. He’s also wearing a skin-tight Superman shirt, a big S dominating his chest. He stands in front of us, fists on his hips. He looks off in the distance like he’s just finished saving the world. “Not to brag but I’m kind of important.”
I bark out a laugh, falling into Brawler’s lap with the force of my mirth. Tears dance at the corners of my eyes. It feels good to have the pressure off for just this one night. I trust them to keep me safe, just as I hope they trust me to keep them safe.
Oscar beckons me with his fingers. “Come, sexy bird. You and Superman are about to get freaky on the dance floor.”
Brawler lets me scoot around him while Oscar takes my hand, holding mine firmly in his. Oscar takes us to the edge of the floor where we’re still in view of the table we scored, and we dance to the house music pumping in around us. My pulse jumps as he brings my hips solidly to his, swaying us to the music. He dances differently than Johnny, but not any less sexy. His fingers clutch my
ass right through the tulle, and I press into him, tongue gliding up his neck. “You’re bad,” I tease.
“I’m just thrilled I get to touch you in public. I have one night to lay my claim.”
“No one lays their claim on me.”
“So, we noticed,” Oscar says, nudging his nose over my fake one. “One guy claims you and you start dating two on the side just to prove a point.”
Another laugh rips from me. “I guess I did, didn’t I? Let that be a lesson. Who knows who else I’ll attract if you start getting possessive, Quarterback?”
Oscar nuzzles my neck. He kisses me there, leading a trail to my earlobe before sucking it into his mouth and biting it softly. “Remember when I licked your pussy until you came?”
I bite my lip. Of course, I fucking remember. “Are you trying to turn me on in the middle of a dance floor?”
“Maybe voyeurism is my thing,” he teases, biting my earlobe again. He kisses his way along my jawline and then crushes his hips against me, his cock hard between us.
I almost turn to putty in his hands. “When we get out of here,” I whisper straight into his ear. “We’ll be able to do whatever we want.”
“Get out?”
I step back and look Oscar straight in the eye. “When we escape after I get my revenge.”
Emotions swirl in Oscar’s dark gaze. He blinks a few times before tilting his head. He almost has to tilt it horizontal to get past the beak on my mask, but then he slides his lips over mine, kissing me like he’s pinky swearing my face. It’s a promise. A signed, binding contract.
No one has ever tried to help Oscar selflessly before. But I will. I’m not leaving him behind in a life he never wanted in the first place. I try to hold back thoughts of what we could be, but I see him in the middle of a huge stadium, a college football uniform on with his helmet in his hands. If I can give him that, I will.
26
Oscar, Brawler, and I make use of the freedom we’re given. It takes Brawler a little while to relax, but he does eventually. He doesn’t dance with me like Oscar, but he pulls me against him while we’re sitting. He runs his fingers up and down my inner thigh like he and Oscar have a pact that they’re going to drive me absolutely insane while we’re here. Johnny’s not the only one I have explosive chemistry with. I just felt his first because we’re allowed to touch each other. We’re allowed to take it to the brink whenever we want. I haven’t been given that chance with Oscar and Brawler until now.
Like the nice person I am, I give it back to them whenever I can. “Accidentally” rubbing against their hard-ons. Using my body against them wherever I can.
During one song, Brawler joins Oscar and I on the dance floor. He doesn’t do much but stand behind me, gently swaying, his cock nestled on my ass, but it’s enough to overheat me. Especially since Oscar is grinding against my front. My fingers sink into his ass, and Oscar and Brawler lock gazes above my head. Before I know it, I’m being led up the stairs. “What is this?” I ask, trying to forget the fact that my panties are damp.
“Private areas,” Oscar whispers. “It’s for lap dances and for parties when you don’t want an audience. I’m hoping the rooms will be free tonight.”
My heart jumps in my chest, but my excitement is short-lived. The rooms aren’t free. We weren’t the only ones to have this idea. In fact, the majority of them are spoken for. I catch glimpses as Oscar peels back the curtains just an inch to see if the room is free and then we move down the line after finding each one occupied. Finally, he finds a free room and pulls me into it. I have a hold of Brawler’s hand, so he comes in afterward, making sure the curtain is closed behind us.
“What now?” I ask, breathless. I’m not naïve. I understand why we came up here. In fact, I’m fucking salivating for it.
“Just don’t think, Big Man,” Oscar says to Brawler over my head. “Do.”
He moves forward, angling his head again to kiss me. Brawler’s hot breath hits my neck, and my own breath hitches in my throat. I’m sandwiched between them, their hard bodies pressing against mine. Brawler pulls my dress zipper down, letting his fingers trail behind it over my spine while I kiss Oscar harder for the pleasure. Once the dress is fully unzipped, Brawler moves the straps down my shoulders. I stand straight until the material skims past my hips and pools by my feet.
Brawler’s hands perch on my hips, pressing me forward while Oscar grinds on me. “Christ,” I say, coming up for breath.
Calmly, Brawler unclasps my bra, pushing those straps down too. I reach up, grabbing my bra between the cups and yank down, throwing it to the side until my bare breasts are pressed against Oscar’s Superman shirt. Brawler pulls me back though. He skims his hands over my hips and palms my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples. “Oohhh,” I moan as my panties soak through even more.
“Fuck,” Oscar growls, biting his lip. “You’re so fucking hot.” He steps back to watch Brawler play with my breasts, fixating on his movements. He raises a lust-filled gaze to me. “How does that feel?”
“Fucking amazing,” I purr, pulling him back to me. His hands move to my hips, then down, edging past the elastic in my panties until his hands skim over my slit.
“She’s so wet, man. So fucking wet.”
He pulls my panties down and spins me, arms banding over my abs while one reaches up to cup my breast. He pulls me back until he sits on a couch, placing me on top of him. He makes sure I don’t touch any part of the couch itself as he spreads his knees and puts my boot-clad feet on top of his thighs, forcing my legs open. “You should check,” he murmurs to Brawler.
Brawler only has eyes for me. His stare takes me in, my peaked nipples, my throbbing pussy. A dim, red light in this room casts everything in a fiery-like glaze.
“Do you want Brawler to check?” Oscar asks, his voice husky in my ear.
I nod, opening my own legs farther, giving Brawler ample room.
Brawler hits his knees, hands running down my thighs. The pad of his thumb passes over my folds, and he curses. “So fucking wet.”
I whimper. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done, that I’ve ever even imagined. I want Brawler’s mouth on me and Oscar’s fingers teasing my nipples. I lock gazes with the fighter in front of me. “Fuck me with your mouth, Brawler.”
“Oh God,” Oscar moans, pumping his hips into me, his hard cock nudging me from behind.
I move Oscar’s hands to my breasts. “Play with me. Don’t stop.”
“Fuck yes,” Oscar growls. His fingers play, squeeze, and pinch as I watch Brawler. His gaze heats the more he takes in the scene in front of him. At first, I’m unsure if he’ll play along, but I’m pleasantly surprised when he leans forward to dart his tongue across my clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan, my hands diving into Brawler’s hair. “Oh God.”
“That’s right,” Oscar says. “Tell Brawler how good that feels.”
I hold him to me, panting as he slides his tongue up my slit swirling around my clit. Trembles overtake my body. “Keep going,” I murmur.
Oscar kisses my neck, nipping here and there while he tortures my breasts.
“Tell our girl what she tastes like.”
“Like fucking heaven,” Brawler groans, before diving forward, humming over my clit.
“Yes, God. More.”
Brawler’s hands join the fold, tracing over my folds while his tongue plays with my clit. He pushes a finger inside me, and I gasp. The feelings are almost too much. I’m caught between wanting to hit that height of climax and wanting it to last as long as it can. It feels that good.
“Yes, Brawler,” I tell him, urging him on.
He rumbles, sending erotic sensations straight to my core.
“This is so fucking hot,” Oscar breathes. “Princess loves it. She’s dying to explode, I can tell. Aren’t you, baby?”
I let out another moan. My core tightens, and my body starts to lock up. “Yes. Yes.”
“She’s so close.”
�
��Fuck,” I breathe.
Brawler looks up, and the moment, our gazes connect, my orgasm hits. It tumbles over me so fast and hard, I open my mouth in an almost silent scream until I breathe out again, my pleasure coming out in a long moan spliced with expletives.
Oscar holds me to him as Brawler gives me one last chaste kiss to my pussy. I tighten up at that briefest of connection. He sits back on his heels like a man starved. “If we weren’t surrounded by people, I would take you right now.”
I feel the truth of that statement in every square inch of my skin his eyes graze. Oscar’s hands cup my breasts, smoothing over my sensitive nipples. “I didn’t realize I’d get such enjoyment out of that.”
I smile. Nothing could make me come down right now. I’m on cloud nine. I swear I’d probably run away with these two right this moment if they asked. I’m too high on endorphins. “Let’s get Princess dressed,” Oscar says. “Next time, I’m tongue man. You can be breast man.”
Brawler doesn’t answer. He feels around on the floor until he finds my panties and skims them over my ankles and knees until I lift my ass. Oscar helps them on the rest of the way as they work in tandem.
He kisses my neck. “I’m pretty sure you soaked right through my pants, too.”
I’m too high to even be embarrassed.
Brawler brings me my bra next. He holds it out, and I slip my fingers through the straps until Oscar clasps it behind my back. I straighten the mask on my head and then Brawler helps me stand. I hug him while Oscar grips my ass in the palms of his hands. “Thank you,” I whisper, so just he can hear me.
He holds out my dress, and I step into it, pulling the straps up while Oscar zips me from behind. “I’ll be jerking off to that tonight,” Oscar muses.
“Glad I’ll take a starring role in your fantasies,” Brawler quips.
Oscar doesn’t even get mad. “If you saw things from my point of view, you would too.”
“Act cool around Mag, okay?” Brawler asks. “My gut tells me we can trust him, but—”