She fishes around in the bag. “What should we do first? Nails or skin?”
I think for a moment. “Skin first. That way we won’t ruin our nails.”
“Good thinking.”
We get to work. First, we need to cleanse our skin, so I show her where the bathroom is so she can wash herface. Then we sit back down together and begin by applying face masks and undereye masks.
“So, who are the other men you’re involved with?” she asks. “Why is only one of them here?”
I can’t help smiling at the thought of them. “One is called Rook. He’s one of the prospects. He’s more our age. He had a rough start to life, you know, but he’s the kind of person who will do anything for the people he cares about.” My thoughts go to our experience in the outbuilding, and I push the memories away. I don’t want to keep reliving it, giving it so much power.
“You can’t ask for more than that,” she says, and from the moony look in her eyes, I can tell she’s thinking about her three men, the Devils. “So, spill, who’s the third?”
“Ghost. He’s the Sergeant at Arms for the club. Things are still a little tentative between us. Honestly, I’m not totally sure where I stand with him.”
A male voice comes from the doorway. “Ghost is head over heels for you,” Ace says. “He fell hard the moment he saw you the first time in the cafeteria here. One look, and he was a goner.”
“You don’t know that,” I tell him.
He’s got a bowl of chips in one hand, and Kirill follows, a couple of bottles of ice-cold beer in his.
It feels a little strange sitting in a face mask in front of Ace, when we’re still at the getting-to-know each other stage. I feel as if I should be glammed up when he’s around. Then I recall that he’s see me covered in other men’s cum and almost shake my head at my stupidity. I push those dark thoughts away as well.
“Yeah, I do.” Ace pops a chip into his mouth and takes a seat. “I’ve known Ghost long enough.”
“There are some benefits in being open to sharing,” Kirill says. “For one, it’s hot as fuck watching my girl getting railed.”
My face heats at his brazen words, and I glance at Mackenzie.
Ace nods approvingly. “Amen to that.”
The two men clink their bottles together.
“Kirill!” Mackenzie chides, but he only grins.
“Kukla,” he uses his Russian pet name for her, “you know how much I love seeing you full of our?—”
“Kirill, enough!Our friends don’t need to know the details.”
Mackenzie’s cheeks have turned flame red, and I can’t help laughing. Yeah, I can see why things are still so hot between all of them.
We continue to gossip, leaving the men to their own conversation, but then Mack nudges me with her shoulder and nods in their direction.
“Shall we give them some beauty time too?”
I laugh at the thought. “Why not?”
“Hey, guys.” She smirks as they look our way. “Want some skin treatments?”
“Hell, no,” Kirill says at the same time Ace shrugs and says, “Why not?”
“Oh, come on, Kirill, baby, don’t be a spoilsport,” Mackenzie says.
“Fine.” He huffs out the reply and downs a big swig of beer. “Do your worst. You know I hate the texture of those things, though.”
I take one of the mud masks and paint the brown clay-like substance all over Ace’s face. When I’m done, I tell him, strictly. “Don’t laugh, or it will crack.”
Mackenzie approaches Kirill. “I think the peel off one will be good for you.”
