Halloween For Six: A Lots of Friends To Lovers Romance, page 2
That’s why it took some thought. I felt like a happy, horny little witch concocting this spell…
“I sent out RSVPs with kink quizzes and consent lists,” I explain. “Then, I sketched it out—five nights of five kinky tricks. I’ve assigned different guests to host a night in our Trick Tent, the biggest, most lavish on the island. They’ll surprise us with their theme, toys, and costumes for all, etcetera. That way, each night will be different, and that’s where the guys are. They’re shopping with Silas for the final night.”
Cade drops her sultry voice. “Other than me”—she’s always investigating like a cop—“who’s hosting, and what are their tricks?”
I chew my lip, unsure if I want to ruin the spooky surprises.
So, I torture her with a smirk. “You already know you’re doing the first night, and Silas is hosting the last. The rest? Wait and see. But if you don’t host a night, you get to draw names for who’s the treat to be tricked—”
“Who’s the treat?”
Thrill shrieks Charlie’s voice. She’s an out-of-tune Mariah Carey.
“Three treats,” I clarify. “We’ll draw for a turn.”
“Why can’t we all be treats every night?”
I laugh at Cade. “Is your woo woo whining?”
“Uh, look here … my woo woo didn’t get tricked last year. I was seven months pregnant. So this year?” Playfully, Cade shakes her tush, too. “My Boo Tee needs lots of haunting.”
See? She’s gonna be thankful she had her pumpkin polished.
“Don’t worry.” I wink. “You’ll get your scream night. We all will. And when it’s not your turn, you can watch or—”
“I want to know if you’ve invited that masked villain again.” Charlie looks deadly serious. That’s worse than dead serious. “I never did figure out who it was, except it’s a man, and I swear, last year when he scared me in the shower like Psycho. Fuck being a screaming bitch. I almost snapped his neck.”
“Yeah,” Cade huffs. “Whoever he is, tell him not to sneak up on a former Marine, a black belt, or a retired MMA fighter. And that’s just her, me, and Scarlett. Our men are nothing to fuck with either.”
I press my lips together…
Nope. Don’t do it. I’m not blurting this secret.
I mean, the seventeen of us are an intimate network—mess with one, and you’ll get fucked by all.
Yes, dammit.
That’s another pun, but it’s also Poly Rule #1.
So, it’s not easy trying to scare the ever-living shit out of people who trust you, who get your back.
But don’t worry.
I’m not a trained fighter like the women I love. Nope, I’m the smallest and youngest of us, and I have a quirky limp. It used to make me insecure. I used to be a wallflower until Silas.
Until he made me feel beautifully fucked, free, and fearless. In that order.
And now?
My mouth is my weapon. It has no silencer, no filter.
So, leave it to me to find the perfect man for an evil task and not be too shy to ask.
I spotted the villain in the dark corner of the sex club many of us frequent, the same corner I used to hide in. He was twirling his signet pinky ring, eyeing me. Not creepy, just admiring me with Silas.
Then, Fate found us bumping into each other on Meeting Street in Charleston, of all haunted places.
The villain bowed his head like old-world nobility. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Van de May.” He shocked me, knowing my married name, greeting me with Southern manners and a smile so devious it was delicious.
Did I scurry away, all scared?
Hell, no. I’m a preacher’s daughter who rebelled from the flock.
I flew straight into hell.
Secretly, I followed the villain’s wide, tapered back in his dark gray suit down the shadowed, narrow sidewalks of the French Quarter, from Meeting Street to the ivy-covered, cobblestone alley beside Delta’s, Stacey’s exclusive adult store.
When he unlocked the back iron gate to her historic row house-turned-salacious destination, I grinned.
If Stacey knows him, I can trust him.
I entered through Delta’s front door and confronted the villain on the third floor. He was about to disappear behind a locked, black door I’ve never seen the other side of.
Still, I wasn’t afraid.
I grabbed his concrete biceps, whipping him around to stand toe-to-toe with me, my nose barely reaching his hulking chest.
“Since you’re a stranger who knows my name,” I demanded, staring into his rakish eyes, “you’ll get a strange thrill helping me, too.”
So, this year, the villain returns. He’ll haunt Indigo Island, but this time, there are more victims to terrify.
And Cade clocks it across my guilty face.
“Aw, shit,” she mumbles. “I know that look.”
“Who me?” I profess, drawling, “Why, I’m innocent.”
I touch my chest like I have the vapors, whatever the hell that means; it’s a Southern thing. I just hope it works.
“Eily,” Cade smirks, “you’re as innocent as triple X-rated Tinker Bell. I know you’re brewing promiscuous potions for all.”
“Then hocus, pocus, my bitches.” I blow a kiss. “Are y’all ready to have your heart racing faster than in a haunted house?”
CHAPTER TWO
SILAS
“Your penis isn’t Pottery Barn!”
“Ever use one of these on your junk?”
I wave a penis pump at Redix and Daniel.
“Don’t need it,” Redix answers, twisting his lips into a cocky grin.
“Looks like it sucks, mate.” Daniel flashes his million-dollar smile.
“Ain’t that the point?”
I admire the clear acrylic tube with its black tip and blue digital display.
Then, I admire Daniel.
As usual, he dressed up for our shopping excursion. His navy sweater is paper thin. It barely contains his muscles while his gray pants hug his infamous ass.
Yep, I’m admiring that, too.
Grabbing a different model off the glass shelf, Daniel warns me with a smirk, “If you pump your Big Ben even larger, it won’t chime inside anyone’s hole.”
“Well, yeehaw.” Redix elbows between us. “Sign my hole up to try.” He grabs another pump off the shelf, tapping my biceps with it. “Here. Use this one. It’s the biggest.”
I glance across the lavish, second-floor showroom of Delta’s.
“You want me to pump my pecker right here?”
Yeah, I’m used to this swanky adult store. And yeah, they had to close it for us to shop because Daniel and Redix are too famous.
“You’re welcome to use one of our private rooms,” the store manager, Vale, advises, dressed like Wednesday Addams while she leans in the doorway. “Or, if you don’t have any questions, I’ll excuse myself. The store is yours for the afternoon.”
“Thanks.” I nod my chin at her.
Vale’s been awesome every time we shop here. She’s the one who told Eily to start eating yams to increase her fertility and for us to switch to fertility-friendly lube. Hell, we’ll try anything to get pregnant, and Vale has a PhD in sexuality, so we appreciate her expertise.
So much so that Redix waves a penis pump at her like we’re in class. Like he’s eager to pass an erection exam.
“Do you sell lots of these?”
“Actually,” Vale answers him, “we do. Some men report longer-lasting erections, and research has proven they can help people with erectile dysfunction achieve satisfying benefits.”
“If something pumps my dick even bigger,” Redix praises the device in my hand, “it would be damn satisfying for us all.”
“Satisfying,” Daniel lowers his brows, “and sore. I wouldn’t be able to sit on my arse for days.”
Coyly, Redix leans Daniel’s way, nipping his ear, teasing, “Oh, my mate, but how your Big Ben would thank me.”
They pause, their accents clashing while they grin, exchanging a heated stare before sharing a hungry kiss.
Dare I say they’re dying for each other because…
They are.
Redix and Daniel can’t afford to make our relationship public. They have to hide it on the set of their show or in public.
While we have our trusted friends who love us, others won’t. You know how it is.
People will judge. They’ll be cruel, and Daniel and Redix are too protective of our chosen family. They have kids and I want one, too. We have to watch out for each other.
Their lips part.
They grab a breath before Redix turns to me.
Yes. It’s my turn.
But a gruff voice interrupts us.
“Use the pump for about fifteen minutes with some lube.” Jace, the bodyguard for Delta’s, stands behind Vale. He looks like her shadow, dressed like Gomez Addams for Halloween next week. I turn to him while he shares, “I was curious and tried one. Damn thing did make my dick even thicker … and longer.”
Vale whips around. “Tried it with who?” she asks.
“Noneya,” he answers her with a smirk. “But maybe you and our accountant should try pumping his number even bigger.”
She backhands his biceps. “Shut up.”
“Alright.” I’m inspired. I ain’t shy. “I’ll try it.”
“Aw shit, I gotta see this.” Redix steps back. Plopping down on an ivory velvet chair, he plucks his phone from the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “I’ll FaceTime the wives.”
“Where are they, anyway?” Daniel asks.
“Getting their fannies fried.” When Daniel arches his dark brow quizzically, I explain, “Getting an ass facial. Like a laser treatment and lotion and shit.”
“Huh.” Redix wonders, “Should we be prepping our backyards, too?”
“Nah.” I wave my hand—the one with a penis pump in it. “We manscape and know how to prep. Besides, I got enough to worry about. I’m not sure what to do for the last night.”
“We, uh, have your selections so far, packaged and ready to send,” Vale tells me before glancing at Redix and Daniel nervously.
I told her I’m planning a surprise even my partners don’t know about.
“If you find anything else today,” she says, “I can discreetly send it to your island.”
Vale’s been full of ideas for our Halloween week. So, part of me feels like an asshole not inviting her, too.
But Stacey, who’s part of our network, is Vale’s boss and is already coming with her husbands. And this year, Vale’s twin sister, Blair, is coming with Beau Bronson and Colton Hawke.
So, yeah.
I’m proud of our world, but some polycules shouldn’t cross.
“You’ve made selections?” Daniel asks. “Like what?”
“Please say costumes,” Redix drawls. “I wanna play Doctor Dean, giving dirty exams with latex gloves again.”
“Bollocks.” Daniel laughs. “We did that last year. No repeats.”
“Easy for you to say.” I scan the showroom for inspiration. “Eily said the same thing, and lemme tell ya: I can be kinky, but it ain’t easy being original, too.”
“Then let us help you,” Daniel offers, his tone cheeky. “You know … when we put our three heads together … lots will come of it.”
I grin at his cocky joke.
At his intimate offer.
At how I can’t believe sometimes that Daniel is my partner, too.
Was I always attracted to his badass wife, Charlie?
Hells yeah.
Long before Daniel Pierce ever came around with his superhero body and British swagger, Charlie Ravenel was my first crush. Like a mega-crush. I was going to marry her, but she friend-zoned me.
Years later, I met Cade, then Redix.
Yep, that was fate.
Because sharing Cade and Redix’s love left me aching for my own, and that’s how my heart finally found Eily Dove. Again.
So, I had to make her Mrs. Van de May because I’m never letting Eily go.
Hell, I was willing to give up everyone and everything for her, but she wouldn’t let me.
Eily is a fearless firecracker of love. She’s hot, tiny but mighty, and all mine.
She’s the air I need to live.
But when I stop joking around? When I let myself get all sentimental?
Yeah, I love Redix and Cade, too. I love how Charlie and I finally crossed over from the friend zone into something more intimate—something way hotter. I love how Daniel and I have a strong bond, too.
The six of us will always be together.
Heck, they don’t know it yet, but I’m building homes for their families on Indigo Island. I dream about us and our kids growing old together.
But this week? I’m skeptical. I ask Daniel, “You sure you wanna help?”
Planning sex games ain’t Daniel’s thing. Playing them? Yeah. But he’s too busy being a Hollywood heavyweight to plan a damn thing.
“Bloody right, I do.” Daniel strides across the showroom toward the ivory-lacquered drawers full of high-end lingerie.
Told ya, we shop here all the time.
He slides open a bottom drawer, plucking out a package. “Let’s do a night wearing these.”
“Dude!” Redix roars. “You and your fishnet fetish.”
I approve of the men’s black fishnet shirt Daniel’s suggesting. But I taunt, “Only if you pierce your nipples like the model on the package, too.”
When Daniel smiles like that, panties and boxers combust.
He winks at me. “I’ll pierce my package for you, but only if you chaps join me.” He nods at Redix. “You already go mad when we tongue your nipples.”
“I can arrange it for you,” Vale says. We have professional piercers here.”
“You do?” Though, why should I be surprised? “Is that what’s on the third floor?” I ask, “In that room with a black door that’s always locked? A piercing room?”
I know my way around Delta’s.
Eily and I have enjoyed several demonstrations of their sex furniture in the parlor on the third floor. Our partners have, too.
You know—for educational purposes.
But no one, not even Stacey, the owner, mentions what’s behind that black door at the other end of the hall.
And like any horny mind with a heartbeat in an adult showroom, that secret door only makes me curious AF.
As a proud bi, poly man … that’s a lot.
I’m curious to know who is Eily’s secret villain.
The fucker followed me one night last Halloween, down the shadowed trail on my island, past the crumbling headstones by the edge of the inky water.
At least … I hope that eerie cold sliding up my spine was her villain.
The others freaked out about him last year, and I can’t tickle or seduce the truth out of Eily, but I know her. I know he’s connected to Delta’s somehow.
We don’t let just anyone onto our island, and we trust the people here.
Especially when Vale blushes, stammering to answer, “That’s … uh. That’s … uh … just a storage room and—”
“Ahem.” Jace clears his guilty throat.
We’re all over six feet tall, but he’s a giant. And … he’s a huge, horrible liar.
It’s obvious.
That ain’t a storage room they’re hiding on the third floor.
“Secret rooms. Fishnets. Piercings.” Impatiently, Redix shifts on his chair. “Whatever. Quit stalling,” he tells me, “and test that pecker pump.”
Vale points. “There’s complimentary lube samples in the basket by the window. So, I’ll leave you gentlemen to explore.”
She turns, gently shoving Jace down the hallway. He glances back over his granite shoulder, wanting to watch, and I wouldn’t mind. I’m dedicated to my partners, but we agreed to be open this week.
But now, it’s just us calling our wives.
I unbutton my shorts, telling Redix, “Call them. Let’s see if they approve of my purchase.”
Yeah, it’s late October, and I’m wearing khaki shorts with a black linen shirt because this is also Charleston. The forecast looks perfect for today and next week, with mild days and brisk nights.
“Hey.” I hear Cade answer Redix’s video call. “Where are you guys?”
Redix turns his phone screen. It lands on me, standing beside Daniel with a wall of glass shelves brimming with sex toys behind us.
“Good!” My wife blurts, “You’re at Delta’s. Ask Vale if my glow-in-the-dark pumpkin butt plugs came in. They’ve been on back order.” Eily giggles. “Pun intended.”
“Baby girl,” I call for her, so Redix aims his screen at me.
My wife appears on it, her long brown hair sprouting from a cute ponytail at the top of her head.
Sipping a pumpkin latte because that’s her M.O. and ’tis the season, she nestles beside Charlie, sipping the same, I’m sure.
But Charlie’s long blonde hair always looks like she just got off a motorcycle. Like she’s a badass, reclining against Cade, whose brown bangs always cloak one of her violet eyes while the rest of Cade’s sexy hair is short.
The three cuddle together, wearing Halloween tanks covered in skulls and ghosts.
They remind me of those hot women I see on reruns of Charmed. But instead of being a cute trio on a witchy show, they’re sprawled across a park bench by the Charleston Harbor. Like they own this spooky town while they enjoy their girls’ day out.
I wave the device at Eily. “Should we do a trick night of penis pumps, pumpkins, and pussies?”
Cade starts laughing, but Charlie narrows her gaze. “Don’t even think about pumping your dicks before y’all fuck pumpkins and our pussies.”
Eily giggles. “Maybe that’s why they’re called jack-o-lanterns. You know? For jacking off.”
Redix turns the phone so it captures all three of us. “You know—pumpkin fucking is a thing.”
“Says the man with a food fetish.” Daniel teases Redix before schooling us, “But Jack-of-the-Lantern is an old British term for night watchmen carrying lanterns. Of course, you Yanks stole that term, too.”
“Besides,” Cade debates Redix, “pumpkin fucking is not a thing.”
