All four of them gape, and hell, even Grayson momentarily looks impressed, but as I rake my eyes over their bodies, I have to stop walking and grip the railing tighter as a roaring laugh is torn out of me.
The boys have gone all out for the party, their outfits spot on. They all wear different variations of fetish harnesses with chains and black leather. Carver, King, and Grayson are all shirtless with long black pants, looking like a scene out of a dream I never knew I had. King looks smug, proud of his outfit, while Carver just looks pissed. Though what’s new?
My stare lingers on Grayson a few extra moments. He acts as casually as though he’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and an old shirt, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his strong torso as I find it covered in tatts. How the fuck did I not know that? He’s simply stunning. I’m going to have to make an excuse to get close to him tonight just so I can take a better look.
Not wanting to get caught staring, I turn my gaze to the fourth member of the Winter patrol and struggle to hold back my comments. My sweet, sweet Cruz has upped his game and stands before me in a pair of latex knickers with his monster of a dick on full display, his grin somehow even bigger. He does a slow circle and I get the full view of the back, only there’s no material back there and I get an eyeful of his perfectly toned ass cheeks. Absolutely no shame, but what’s a life to live if you’re getting around too embarrassed to make a dick of yourself? The best times are had when you decided that you no longer give a fuck about what other people think.
I finish making my way down the stairs, and as I hit the bottom, King steps into me. “Wrists,” he demands, a dark sparkle hitting his eye and making me wish it wasn’t so hard to get out of this costume.
I wonder just how late we are to this party. Maybe Carver wouldn’t mind waiting a few more minutes for King and Cruz to fuck the blinding need out of me first. Yeah … doubt it. Though maybe in these costumes, he might be down to watch. Who knows? Maybe even Grayson too.
I raise my brow and hold up my wrists then watch as King straps a pair of leather cuffs around each of them. “Holy … fuck me in the ass,” I grumble under my breath, this whole night already more than I can handle.
“Already done that,” King says with a cocky smirk. “Give me a new challenge.”
I roll my eyes and raise my chin, meeting his cocky stare with one of my own. “As if you would deny me if I asked you to do it again.”
King winks and the grin that stretches across his face tells me to prepare for whatever bullshit response is about to come flying out of his mouth. “Maybe,” he teases, his eyes sparkling like Christmas morning. “But only if you begged.”
Carver groans. “What is this? Some twisted version of a corsage? Let’s get the fuck out of here already.”
I narrow my gaze at Carver and flip him off before walking straight through the guys and heading for my front door, ignoring the hint of jealousy that flashes in his eyes. I moved into this place the second I could. There was no way I was going to spend my nights under Carver’s roof, though that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t been secretly sneaking through my door every night and slipping into my bed just so I can sleep. It truly is a weird little relationship we have going on. I guess it’s a weird relationship that I have with all the guys—except for Grayson, of course. His glares and snide remarks seem to be the only normal thing around here.
We break out through the door and King puts in the code to lock the big fucker up as Cruz slides into my side and offers me his hand to help me down the stairs. I take it gingerly and give him a warm smile, and before I know it, we’re at the bottom staring at Carver’s Escalade. “Seriously? We’re driving? Isn’t this party only like four houses down the road?”
Grayson grumbles something under his breath and walks around to the front passenger’s seat as Carver grunts back at me. “The party’s not at my place.”
My brows furrow as Cruz opens the back door for me and ushers me in. “Then where the hell is it?” I ask, trying to slide across the backseat. But in all this latex, it’s not an easy task.