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Ivy bursts out laughing. Clearly, they’ve been onto us for a while. “We know you’re in there, fucking her, Liam. You promised a girls’ day.”
I retrieve Celeste’s panties from the floor, hand them to her, and kiss her blushing cheek. “I think it was my girl’s day.”
She catches my lips in return, concluding with a nibble, leading to her beaming smile. “Definitely my day.”
I love that she’s not keeling over from embarrassment right now. Fucking made for me.
The savage beast in me is feral with the thought of my cum dripping out of her the rest of the day. “So gorgeous. And mine,” I tell her before swaggering out of the dressing room and gaping at the blue eyes peeking out at me. “How rude, High Society. I’m appalled. Isn’t there some etiquette rule about never freely admitting to the scandal you witnessed?” I tease. “Only in hushed corners.”
“Says the guy who announced to the room that Wells finally fucked his bride after the first time I ever had sex,” she shrieks, banging her door wide open to glare at me. “That was rude, but I still love you.”
I pull her into a hug and peck her temple. “Love you too, baby girl.”
“I’m so happy for you guys,” she whispers against my cheek. “You’re good for her.”
“Nah. I’m the lucky one. Ace is the jackpot.”
“That she is,” Ivy agrees.
I let her go and pound on Rena’s door. “Flawless execution with the candy offerings, Noire.”
She giggles, but keeps it shut. “I really do have most of those in my purse. Consolation candy. Not all of us are so fortunate to hump in a fitting room.”
That has all of us cackling, but I should let them get back to it. Even the personal shopper is slapping me with a scrutinizing scowl. I’ve overstayed my welcome. I strut back to the front chairs and drop beside Wells with a smirk.
“Do not even fucking think about sharing with me,” he hisses. “I heard enough. Glad the Little Storm called you out, motherfucker.”
I laugh. “Sounds like you need to relax, Chief. It’s only twenty paces to reach your wife. Why don’t you—”
A thundering eruption devours my words, throwing Wells and me from our chairs.
I fly backward as though I’ve been catapulted, crashing with a jolt.
Pain lashes through my limbs.
Ears ringing.
Everything tremors like an earthquake.
Glass shattering.
Walls crumbling.
Shrieking and screaming.
The scent of marzipan. And smoke.
A bomb.
My vision blackens and spots and fogs.
Shaking my head to get my bearings, I roll to my feet—gun drawn—and sprint through the wreckage to reach the girls. The whole building is caved in.
Rubble strewn in piles. Dust rising.
As I weasel my way through the destruction, it all decimates me at once.
Rena crawling toward me, disheveled and sobbing.
