“I was wondering if I could have your autographs.” She pulls out two promo posters, one of Erika and one of me, both of us in our costumes.
“Of course. I remember the day we had to take those shots. It was so freaking warm in the studio, and they didn’t have my costume properly fitted yet, so my corset was pinned together in the back. One of the pins popped mid-shoot and I think there’s a video somewhere of the exact moment it happened.”
Erika laughs. “God, yeah, that was miserable. The joys of being an actor. The shots came out good though. You look badass.”
Anne nods while we both put our own flourish on our respective posters. “You both do. I really love your show. Is there going to be another season? I read that you talked about book three stuff with the guy from Saving the Blog. Is that true?” Her eyes are bright beacons of hope.
“We don’t know,” I say. “I hope so.”
Dakota plops what looks like a giant pink tackle-box on the kitchen island. “Who wants their nails done for tonight before I sit down and lose the motivation to keep going?”
“Can I get in on it even though I’m not going?” Erika asks. I think she’s meeting Toby later, but I don’t want to spill the beans in front of fans.
Starting with nails turns into a makeover production that would put any film setup to shame. I might not have had much in the way of furniture, but my wardrobe and makeup selection are second to none. We’re all getting the biker princess look whether we want to or not. Heavier on the eye shadow, and smokier than I’m used to, a much sexier, deep red on the lips that Jess insists is waterproof and won’t come off, no matter how much it is rubbed, to the amusement of all the girls.
By the time Erika has to leave, we’re all done up. I’ve ended up in a modified version of my Desdemona outfit, with skintight leather pants and a sexy bandeau top that will look kick-ass under the jacket. I’m a little worried about the lack of a bra, but Colt doesn’t seem to mind as he’s subtly smiling at me from across the room, wisely keeping out of the way.
Is this what family feels like? Wild and funny and kind and—nope. If I start crying again, I’ll ruin my makeup.
Paige is the last one out when they’re finally picked up by their bikers. She gives me a hug. “I hope we didn’t just scare you off. I won’t be around too much tonight because of the baby, but I wanted to do this for you. I know we didn’t get into it too much, but I want you to know that all of us have some sort of story behind how we ended up together, and most of us have been through a lot to get where we are. We don’t have to be best friends or anything, but so long as you’re here, you’ll never be alone.”
All I can do is nod.
When the door shuts, Colt pulls me close. “You okay? They can be a lot when they get going.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” I look up at him, feeling a little golden kernel of emotion that I want to hide away so I can peek at it later. “How do I look?”
He grins. “If I didn’t have a party to take you to, I’d be throwing you over that couch.”
“Right on the new pillows?” I gasp. “Promise?”
23
Chapter 23 - Quinn
When we pullinto the parking lot next to the church, it’s dark and the party is already going full blast. Loud rock music billows out through the open doors, while the stained glass windows brighten each time moving lights inside pass over them. It’s like a biker night club, but there’s no need to be stuck inside. People walk in and out at will, hanging out in groups on the stairs and spilling out onto the lawn behind. In the field beyond the parking lot, there’s what looks like a bonfire, and even more people.
The clink of beer bottles and pool balls cut through the music, and under it is the ebb and flow of laughter, chat and even some moans out in the darkness. I try not to look into the shadowy corners, a little worried that I’ll see too much, but I do peer a little, because I’m only human.
“You look fucking amazing, demon.” Sinner’s voice greets us as soon as we get inside. He’s leaning casually with his back up against the frame of the inner church doors with a beer bottleswinging from his fingers. He’s not wearing a shirt under his cut tonight, exposing his tattoos and washboard stomach. His smile is full of dirty promise.
“Not fucking kidding. Hey, Q.” Priest comes out the door with a bottle of his own. “Took you guys long enough.”
I push away from Colt so I can spin in place for them. “The girls came over and took over my apartment. We had a little pre-party. Are you saying it wasn’t worth the wait?”
He laughs. “I waited ten years, what’s an extra hour?”
Colt drops a hand to the small of my back, guiding me inside. “Welcome to the madhouse, baby.”
I cross the threshold with Priest, Colt, and Sinner on my arms like we’re about to walk down the aisle of a wedding designed by complete and total hedonists.
Inside, the music is deafening, a steady beat that feels like it was made to the rhythm of hips thrusting during sex. The air smells like leather, sweat and beer as the church is packed with people. There’s a layer of smoke, and lights that spin slowly, making it feel like the whole space is liquid. Most of the crowd are men, all of them wearing Outlaw Sons cuts, which isn’t surprising. There are a lot of women though, moving between them or hanging on their arms.
Looking at their long, bare legs, I feel like maybe I should’ve gone with a miniskirt instead, but I’m not sure Colt would’ve let me ride like that. I slip off the jacket and put it over my arm, feeling a little less like a nun with the top that wraps around my breasts, leaving my shoulders and stomach bare. It’s still downright modest considering I’ve been here less than fiveminutes and already seen at least one nipple and someone’s completely bare ass.
The guys clear a path through the crowd, bringing us deeper into the party. This time, there’s no Hellfire on the altar. Instead, there’s a woman dancing on it, her hair fiery, even redder than mine, and what’s left of her skimpy outfit a bright emerald green. Just as we approach, she peels her bra off, cupping her breasts to hold up the wisp of material so it won’t fall until she chooses to let go.
She looks right at me, through long, smoky eyelashes, and lowers her top, exposing a perfect pair of breasts topped with glittering pink nipples that look very excited to be on display. Is nipple makeup a thing? She smiles, spins once, then throws her top at me. I catch it, not sure what to do, but unable to take my eyes off her at the same time.
