Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Damn straight.
“Do you know what else my Daddies promised?” Kit demanded.
I smirked and turned to him, and I extended a hand, wanting him with us. “No, what did they promise?”
“I can’t dance now. I have ants in my pants!” Instead, he opted to run circles around us, the damn clown. “My Daddies are getting married,” he sang. “Colt’s gonna wear his formal Air Force mess dress, and they’ll walk under the Arch of Sabers after the ceremony, and then three squadrons of fighter jets will roar above in formation, and—”
“Three squadrons?” I laughed. “Boy, not even the SecDef would get that treatment.”
As a semi-retired colonel, I’d be lucky to get scrap metal from the boneyard in Arizona.
Kit stopped abruptly and stared up at me, hands on his hips. “This is my dream, not your—” And that was where the doorbell cut him off. He gasped, and in that split second, his regression was clear as day. “Someone’s here already! I’ll go see!”
“Look before you open, Kit!” Luke called after him.
“I will!”
I assumed the Tenleys were here, which gave me about five seconds of peace with Luke before the party started.
“By the way, we’re doing Tied up Toes.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“Oh—excellent. I thought about that the other day.” He slipped his hands to the back of my neck and up into my hair, and I groaned at how good it felt.
Funny, wasn’t it, how sometimes a single touch could make you go from alert and ready for a holiday party to wondering why the fuck we didn’t take a nap earlier when we’d had the chance between chores.
I needed a drink and a snack.
“Well, rope’s on the table.” I cleared my throat and shook off the sudden bout of tiredness. “I’mma greet our first guests and throw back a couple shots.”
He chuckled and kissed my cheek. “Be careful, baby. We’ve barely eaten today.”
Of course not. I needed room for the Christmas buffet. Two scones for breakfast; other than that… I’d grabbed some snacks in passing.
The cheerful talk in the entryway grew louder, so Luke and I exchanged a last kiss before we shouldered the roles of hosts for the night. And I’ll be fucking damned—Kit and Shay were discussing how hot it was for Tops to kiss. Was this a community-wide topic these days? I’d heard it lately from Tate and Corey too.
“Hey—chatterboxes! Lemme through.” Reese squeezed by the brats and entered the living room with two big shopping bags.
“Welcome back, buddy. Secret Santa gifts in or around the burlap sack next to the tree.” I pointed as I joined him at his side and squeezed his shoulder. It was gonna be a pornographic night for my man, who appreciated everyone dressing up. “Snacks and alcohol on the buffet table.” I gestured to the setup next to the dining room table. Too small to hold a dinner for twenty people, but perfect for drinks. “And your guest room is the second door to the right on the second floor.”
“Fuckin’ A, this is fantastic. Shay! Kit, you too—unless…” He turned back to me. “Did you tie him up yet?”
“I was just about to,” Luke said. He’d spotted the rope boxes on the table. “Shay, you can bring your shoes. Just wipe them off on the doormat first. Then you can come over here. You as well, Kit. Shoes and socks off.”
“Socks…?” Kit looked puzzled.
“That’s what I said, little one.” Luke nodded. Then he leaned to the side a bit and said, “Hello, Shay, I forgot to say.”
Shay smiled politely. “Hi, Sir. Man, it smells good in here.” He smiled at me too. “Thanks for having us, Sir.”
“Our pleasure, pet.”
River joined us last, carrying a duffel bag.
“Wait—fuck.” Shay shifted where he stood, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. “Is this the infamous tying toes or whatever? Tate told me about it.”
I smirked.
“Tied up Toes,” Reese corrected. “You obey Colt and Lucas now, you hear? Riv and I will get us settled upstairs.”
I clapped Reese on his back. “I’ll make you a couple drinks in the meantime.”
“Wonderful. For the record, Shay’s limits for the mistletoe game are whatever floats your boat, just stay away from his ass. We bruised it pretty bad yesterday.”
“Pretty bad?” Shay retorted incredulously. “My entire ass is black.”
“Oof.” I smiled widely. “Some nice deep-tissue bruises then, huh?”
“It’s fuckin’ incredible—I’ll show you later,” Reese promised. I was looking forward to that. “First he came so hard that he lost his breath, and then he cried so hard that he lost the spaghetti dinner he’d had with his brothers on the floor.”
I barked out a laugh, having been there. First couple times we did more intense pain play with Kit, he’d thrown up both soda and ice cream.
Kit shot me a scowl but said nothing as he plopped down on the couch and removed his shoes and socks.