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I blew him a kiss and kicked off my shoes.
He smoothed his fingers over his mustache.
Walker trailed over. “I kinda miss my mustache now.”
Macklin chuckled. “No, you don’t, Owner.”
“I think you’d look hot,” Ty offered. He turned to Lane. “You reckon I should grow one?”
Lane thought about it. “Maybe…? It depends on the ’stache. Like, I can totally see Master McKenna in the kind Master Greer has.”
That was actually the kind Walker had sported before, like half a horseshoe.
Macklin was glaring daggers at Lane, but it went unnoticed.
Walker dipped down and kissed Ty slowly. “We can think about it. You’d look delicious in a chevron.”
“You hear that, Greer?” Colt spoke up. “We’re trendsetters.”
“Or copycats,” Lucian said with a shrug. “I’m fairly certain there’re already three hundred Wilford Brimley fan clubs out there.”
I laughed.
“I’m more of a Sam Elliott man myself,” Walker drawled.
Noa scrunched his nose and eyed the men. “Are you just name-dropping historical figures nobody’s heard of again? You always do that.”
Hey, now.
“You love Sam Elliott, freckles,” I pointed out. “He’s one of the Earp brothers in Tombstone.”
Recognition lit up in his eyes. “Oh yeeeaaah. He’s so fine! That grampa could ride me like a pony any freaking day.” He leaned back and started thrusting the air, earning himself laughter all around.
My little slut boy.
I finally got my drink from Macklin, and I figured we’d gotten off track enough. I took a big swallow, then set the glass on the nearest table and stripped down to my boxer briefs.
The others weren’t done bickering, but I had a feeling I knew how to get everyone to stop.
“Kingsley!” I nodded at him, and he gave me his attention. “Mind helping me for a moment?”
Lucian leaned closer to me. “Do you need something?”
I shook my head and kissed his cheek. “You should start tearing Noa’s ass up with a paddle.”
Noa stopped humping the air and pouted. “Aw, man.”
Kingsley came over and helped me off the sofa, and he let me lean on him as I limped closer to where he and Tate had been seated. Well, Tate was still there, and he wouldn’t be busy talking to Lucas for much longer.
“Ironically, I do need a bit of assistance,” I admitted. My thigh was spasming.
“Name it,” Kingsley replied. “Is it your legs?”
I nodded with a dip of my chin and came to a stop a couple mattresses away from Tate. I motioned for us to get down, and he helped me. I asked if he could just rub my thigh a little.
“Noooo!” I heard Noa complain. Which could only mean Lucian had set things in motion. Walker was already over there, and he was our resident toymaker. His paddles, whips, and floggers were the only ones we bought. Best fucking quality. Same with his glasswork.
My ass hit the mattress, and I grunted and hugged my right knee to my chest.
