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“Come on, brother, if you love it, own it. You like to fuck. You like to fuck a lot of women. At the same time. In kinky ways. Tough shit. No one cares. Do what makes you happy,” Rafe said.
Carmelo kept his head forward but blinked his eyes open, straight at Rafe. A devious, dark little smile crept onto his lips, and he winked at Rafe in response. Fine. Fuck his life but yes, he’d own it. This was who he was. Rafe saw and mirrored his smile.
Rafe then reached out a hand, grabbed Carmelo’s shirt and pulled.
Carmelo tipped his head back and laughed as buttons flew and he heard the unmistakable, jubilant sound of fabric ripping.
“Ladies!” Rafe shouted, and the strippers assembled behind him like the fucking power rangers. Rafe nodded to Carmelo. “Stand up and own it, pig, don’t let them drag you away this time-”
“Looks like I’ve broken the law again,” Carmelo said darkly, only too happy to take the lead.
“Wahoo, that time of night! Sergeant gets stripped!” Someone yelled from the crowd. A few other people hollered, too.
“Fuck my life,” Carmelo muttered to himself, smiling. His handcuffs went on him and his cock responded like Pavlov’s salivating dogs. Conditioned to harden and weep. He saw Colt looking on and grinning with barely contained mischief.
“What? Our Sergeant, being a bad boy…”
“Well, we gotta show him, right?”“Sure, honey, we gotta show him how bad he’s been.”
“When will he learn?”
Carmelo flashed Colt a brief, bright smile. Colt saw it, recognized it, and celebrated with him in it. Carmelo’s acceptance, Carmelo’s coming of age moment as he confidently led the gaggle of women out of the garden, Rafe in amongst the group, too.
Colt raised his glass to Carmelo, toasting to him as he passed. “Here’s looking at you, pig.”
