Well, okay then! She giggled, marveled at the sound, twinkled her fingers, and took off running.
“What the hell is that laughter about?” Meghan griped. “It’s been going on for ten minutes.”
Charlie moved to the doorway of the makeshift dressing room and listened. “Unless I’m mistaken, your brother is entertaining your husband with dirty limericks. Judging by the sounds, I’d say the men enjoy Irish vulgarity.”
“Ooh, limericks! Awesome.” Tori sniggered. Her playful friend stepped up alongside and nudged her. “What are they saying?”
She stuck her head out the door in time to hear a good one that she repeated with gusto.
“There once was a fellow named McSweeny
Who spilled some gin on his weenie
Just to be couth
He added vermouth
Then slipped his girlfriend a martini”
The whole room cracked up.
“Moulin Rouge and Irish Limericks.” Charlie laughed. “Sounds about right for this bunch.”
Sophie made some rude comments that made Meghan laugh.
Stephanie came from behind and wrapped her arms about Charlie’s waist. She dropped her chin on her shoulder and hugged her.
“We’re so glad you’re a part of this.”
Turning around, Charlie kissed the woman’s cheek.
“Being here is like plugging in for a recharge. The current of energy this group creates is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And that’s saying a lot, considering my pedigree. Shit, I’ve got a Broadway legend for a grandmother, so breaking into song at the dinner table isn’t exactly a foreign concept.”
“I know, right shugah?” Stephanie motioned with her head to the room of ladies. “In some ways, this is what I’m used to. Pageants, know what I mean?”
Charlie sniggered, rolled her eyes, and nodded. She wasn’t a fan of female objectification—not when done for ratings or financial benefit.
“But I know what you mean about this being different. It might be part of the reason I feel so complete. Nobody here is competing. It’s funny but true. The love and absolute support these gals have for each other is truly extraordinary.”
She admitted something out loud for the first time and let the words take flight—out into the universe.
“I’m thinking about talking to Caleb—feel him out. See what he says. Our families are back east, but we really love it here. When we went to check out the place Kelly and Roman decided on for a vacation home, there was a big plot of land nearby that would be perfect for Jax and Caleb’s dream of creating a tiny home compound.”
“How weird,” Stephanie murmured. “Calder has been going on about tiny homes. He has some nerd plan for sustainable this and that. Solar things and all kinds of cool stuff. Alex and the boys have been talking about a tiny home scheme for vets needing a hand.”
This didn’t surprise Charlie. “It’s not just the women creating extraordinary energy.”
Domineau swaggered over to them and wolf-whistled Stephanie’s outfit. “Gurl,” she drawled. “We make this ringmaster shit look good!”
It was true. They did. Wearing similar but differently colored corsets and cutaways, Stephanie wore cute, sexy ankle boots and a burlesque meets steampunk looking skirt.
But Domineau, she of the incredible height and long legs, she took this shit supersonic. Working off her strengths, the Amazon badass went for dangerous cleavage, a cinched waist worth dying for, and a pair of shiny stretch leggings that disappeared into thigh high leather boots with dangerous heels and naughty BDSM-style laces.
Remy wandered toward them with a surprisingly confident swagger. Before now, she’d been working overtime trying to be invisible.
Domineau offered a few staggeringly raunchy comments about her friend’s costume. Stephanie gurgled with delight when the two went at each other for a short yet highly amusing verbal bitch-fest.
“You’re just jealous because my tits are real,” Remy snarled.
The group of ladies gasped at the same time before sniggering with laughter.
Domineau gave her the finger. “Suck my dick, Bisset. These babies are the gen-u-wine thing.” For emphasis, she shook her ta-tas and gestured with her hands. “See?”
Charlie grinned and snicker-laughed.
“Shugah!” Stephanie cooed to Remy. “The red vixen lipstick is perfection!”
“Shhh!” Meghan hissed and held her hands up for silence. “I think our intro is happening.”
“Buckle up, gals,” Heather stage-whispered. “Remember, the chorus first followed by the principle performers.”
They shuffled into order with her, Remy, and Kelly doing chorus backup.
Domineau and Stephanie would follow.
Then the star performers took their place.
Meghan in naughty and revealing teal.
Angie in a sexy but demur baby doll-style costume.
Heather rocking a nearly see-through pink blush corset and outrageous shoes.
Sophie in vivid green.
Lacey and Tori in black and vibrant purple.
Showtime!
Feeling more than a bit inebriated and way too pumped on adrenaline, Alex made a mess of the girls’ introduction. Not even the cheat sheet pressed into his hand before he started talking made any difference. The minute he saw the words Moulin Rouge, his dick got hard, and his brain took a hike when he finally understood his wife’s earlier words.
Crumpling the paper into a ball, he scraped a hand through his hair right before a deep, drawn-out belch rumbled out of him and into the microphone.
A cacophony of answering grunts and forced burps rang out.
Yeah, this wasn’t going so great.
And it didn’t help that Drae was giving him a barrage of nonstop shit at the front of the stage. He frowned at the guy’s antics.
Finn cracked open a case of Macallan that was currently unleashing a case of the stupids. And stupid when coupled with Justice always led to consequences.
Rafe’s big, brawny paw shot out and grabbed Sinjin by the earlobe. Drae squawked and went to his knees in record time.
“Shut the fuck up, you monkey dicks,” he bellowed. “And show the Major some respect.”
“Ignore these cretins! Continue, Wolf Pup,” Calder drunkenly hollered.
Roman shoved Cam out of the way. Catching him unawares and unprepared for the assault, the guy crashed to the floor.
Parker was so wasted that all he could do was laugh and point.
Finn, who refused to take off his kilt, kept threatening to flash anyone who refused a whiskey shot.
Fuck. What was he supposed to be doing? Alex covered his eyes to block the spotlight. Oh, right. The girls. Moulin Rouge. His dick.
He caught sight of Barry and Grey behind the bar. They were both grinning and laughing.
“Snap to it!” he barked. It was enough to get nearly everyone standing at attention.
Satisfied that at least his voice of authority still worked, he swallowed and tested his ability to speak.
“I have no idea what the ladies have planned– and neither do you,” he reminded the men. “And I’m too shift-aced, um, shit-faced to read, but I don’t think, ‘here they are’ will do, so I’ll just say this. Earlier, my wife reminded me that she is the mother of my children. I think in wife-speak that was the equivalent of a pre-emptive defense for what’s about to happen.”
Murmurs and nods greeted this comment. Good.
“So, blah-yada-blah, and something about Moulin Rouge. Give it up for Lady Justice.”
He jumped off the stage, miscalculated the short distance, and nearly landed on his face. Luckily, Parker’s reflexes kicked in and saved him from a bloody nose and mouth.
Laughter boomed from the speakers, and Remy, Charlie and Kelly strutted into the spotlight in a flurry of feather boas and fancy moves.
Domineau and Stephanie followed. Dressed like strip club circus masters, they taunted the audience, suggested stra
pping on a pair and told them to get ready for Moulin Bendover.
The music started. So did the vocals. Next thing he knew, his eyesight was flooded with more makeup, hairspray, rhinestones, and Victoria’s Secret-style shit than he’d ever seen. Than any of them had ever seen if the slack-jawed speechlessness was any indication.
The men went wild with appreciation, and shit got wild. Their bump and grind moves were right on the edge, but what got him and Parker looking at each other with raised brows was the decorated flogger Meghan was swinging around, the black leather crop with the red heart-shaped tab Angie used with great flourish, and—holy fuckballs on a stick—Kelly had a mini whip that she wasn’t afraid to snap and crack. The expression on Roman’s face was fucking epic.
Angie handled the rap stylings with mesmerizing aplomb. He had to give it to his sister—she had tremendous talent.
What stopped them dead was sweet Lacey Cameron putting Cam on his knees, literally, when she knocked it out of the ballpark with her version of Christina Aguilera’s titillating performance.
All of the women brought it.
Alex was stunned. Pleased. Territorial. Turned on. Seeing his wild Irish fuck goddess in a costume intended to seduce got the desired effect. So did watching her joyful performance. The rhinestone bling’ed flogger was a nice touch.
Beside him, Parker growled, “Give me strength.” They looked at each other. “Your sister is asking for it.”
He laughed. “You mean your wife, right? Get in line, pal. Have my own naughty spouse to handle.”
By the song’s finish, he was sure every single couple was actively planning the appropriate fuckery for the night’s end.
Nobody changed after the burlesque number. They high fived and giggled together in the dressing room for five minutes and then went to face the music.
Kelly already knew how Roman felt about the performance—and her intentional teasing. It was plain to see—right on his face. Her man gave the best lustful leer around. Not that she noticed or cared about the other guys. In Roman’s case, that smoldering intensity was part of who he was. She understood why his prowess as an interrogator was acclaimed. When he got mad and got a certain look, she was more than willing to confess her every sin.
Stashing the cute leather whip in her bag, she snicker-coughed, remembering his expression when she cracked it. His eyes burned with a fire that nearly singed her skin.
Did she hope he’d use the sexy apparatus on her later?
Absolutely.
They were greeted with playful scolding and quite a few raunchy, possessive kisses. She flew to Roman’s side and rubbed on him like a cat in heat. His cock was hard, and she growled against his throat when her fingers mapped his flesh.
“Is that for me?”
“Oh, most definitely.” He chortled. “Turn around,” he commanded.
“Why?”
His eyes burned with lust. “So I can decide.”
Her whole body pulsed and throbbed with staggering arousal. He threatened to take her ass more than he actually did. She wasn’t sure what was sexier. The way she responded to ass play or the promise of when. It wasn’t something she wanted on the menu all the time, but she kind of liked those special occasions when he took everything. Kelly enjoyed those times when he left nothing on the table.
She performed a burlesque twirl, bent slightly for maximum presentation and wiggled her butt in low seductive arcs. It didn’t matter that they weren’t alone since all of the ladies were in similar situations.
Barry whistled and drew their attention. “Ice. Glasses. Whiskey.” He pointed at a table set up with drinks.
He taped his watch. “Five minutes and then the next performance.”
Roman grunted. He snagged two shots and handed her one. “This little stunt is making you far too giddy.”
They clinked glasses, and she shrugged through a smile when shooting back the whiskey. She tried not to giggle, but the whiskey made it difficult.
“What penalty do you have in mind?”
The minute the words came out of her mouth and she saw his eyes flare, she knew she’d handed him a huge advantage. She just wasn’t sure what the advantage was until he spoke.
He looked around, poured them each a second half-shot, and then kissed her into quivering submission.
“The wedding is in April. Spring break. You’ll make a beautiful spring bride.”
“What?” she squawked.
“Someplace in New York. Maybe a bed and breakfast upstate where we can hang out and plan events.”
“Roman,” she murmured. “Hold up.”
“Nope. Sorry, Tesoro. No can do. You can’t strut your stuff like that and not be wearing my ring. There are just some things that I’m not okay with. You belong to me. I want it legal. And I want Matty’s adoption wrapped up. Oh, and I want a kid. Soon.”
She considered smacking the arrogant off his face. His beautiful, handsome face. The face that did wicked things between her legs. The face that she woke up to every morning. The face of her future.
Pouting for all she was worth, Kelly leaned against him, drew things on his chest and even cocked a hip. “Do I have a say in any of this?”
He lifted her chin with his finger. “What do you want to say, Kelly?”
Many things came to mind. What came from her mouth, though, were the only words that mattered.
“I love you, Roman Bishop.”
“Raise your hand if there’s a spanking in your future.”
All their hands went up except for Sophie and Remy when Red asked the question.
Tori smiled happily. For her first real outing since Ryder was born, this whole day had been more than fun. Her boobs, however, needed some relief. She’d nursed the baby after the variety show and sent him off to the Villa for the night in the capable hands of Carmen the family elders along with extra milk But that was hours ago and her gauge was set on full.
“Shugah honey,” her mom cheerfully drawled. She pulled her in for a big hug. “You were magnificent! Draegyn’s face was priceless.”
“Baby pooch and all,” she joked. “Although a corset helps.”
“Oh, sweetie, good lord. You could grow a second head, and that man wouldn’t flinch. He’s changed, Victoria. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Calder has known him a long time, and I see it in other people’s eyes. Until recently, it’s safe to say the general opinion was that he didn’t deserve you. Now? Hell. When I catch him unawares with Daniel or when he’s got Ryder in a Snugli, my heart melts. He’s a good man, and I’m proud to have him as a son-in-law.”
“Stop, Mom. You’re going to make me cry.”
“Some tears are good. You go ahead and cry. Have you given any thought to where you and Draegyn are going? The baby is seven weeks old now. You two need a break and some couple’s time.”
“I’m not sure. We’ve kicked around a couple of options. Don’t laugh but we’re gravitating away from a romantic spa getaway in favor of something a bit more vigorous.”
“Vigorous? What does that mean?”
“Draegyn knows someone who can hook us up with a luxury houseboat and all the toys for a Lake Powell adventure. We can hike or jet ski. Or do nothing. Whatever we want. There’s a crew to do the boating and facilitate, so it’d be so relaxing. Away from things. Just the two of us. We can arrange for the crew to leave at night.”
“It sounds romantic and perfect.” Her mother beamed at her. “You’ve grown up too, Victoria.”
“Here we go, here we go,” Heather squealed. “Shh! Let’s hear what Lacey says.”
“Ladies, I just want you to know that no matter the boys bring, we totally killed it!”
They jumped up and down, chanted, “Nailed it,” and high fived with glee.
“It is now my pleasure to give you the Men of Justice performing to “Need You Tonight.”
“Oh, my fucking god,” Tori screamed when the guys, led by a grinning Rafe, swaggered into place.
As soon a
s the classic INXS song boomed through the speaker system, they were treated to a Magic Mike-style male review that rivaled the ladies’ raunchy burlesque show.
There was screaming. And fangirling. A few dollar bills may have been thrown. When they stripped, each guy wore a pair of black briefs with their woman’s name spelled in silver glitter across their groins.
Tori felt her face flame. Draegyn’s manly parts were barely contained in the skimpy undies. She glanced at her mom and found her smirking at Calder. She squeezed her eyes shut—determined not to check out her stepfather’s appearance.
Rafe had no problem being lead exhibitionist. Domineau snorted with barely disguised admiration when she said, “He did Chippendales. Did you know?”
Obviously mesmerized by Cam’s participation in this fuckery, Lacey was giggling with a hand over her mouth. Tarted up as she was, her friend made a fetching picture. So did her husband. Jason Cameron was one of those guys who either didn’t realize or didn’t care how gorgeous he was. All the ladies agreed that this unconcerned quality helped make his smoldering hotness highly appealing.
Tori watched Cam for a few seconds. He and her husband had matching tattoos—a fact that she rarely connected with unless they were shirtless and side-by-side.
Brody, of course, put his theatrical hamminess to good use—spurring Rafe on because guys were normally competitive. Jace knew his way around some sexy moves that got a couple of woot-woots.
Parker and Alex looked like matching bronze statues. Big, solid, and imposing.
Roman swaggered to the lead position and gyrated through a couple of jaw-dropping moves that made Kelly blush.
The surprise was Caleb Merrill. He had kept away from the performance stuff but not so much when it came to an end-of-night strip routine. Charlie looked like she was about to eat him alive.
Something at the periphery of the activity caught her eye. It was Remy. She stared at Finn with an intensity hot enough to strip paint from metal.
It was over far too soon, and everyone settled into a gaggle of lap sitting females and barely dressed males.
Barry tossed a pile of pants onto a table and suggested the men cover up.
Enduring (Family Justice Book 8) Page 34