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“You look ridiculously cute,”I told Valen when he modeled his new outfit for me. He was wearing a tailored button-up shirt and tight, stylish black jeans. We’d asked the concierge to bring us a stylist who could outfit us all. We were tired of looking like we’d done our shopping in the bargain bin of whatever discount shop we could find and needed to fit in at the races.
“Thank you,” he said and bowed towards me. “You do, too.”
“I haven’t gotten anything new yet!” I exclaimed.
“You always look ridiculously cute,” he grinned and stepped out of the way before I tossed a balled-up tee shirt at him.
“It’s true,” Kingston said from where he was being measured. The stylist had brought several assistants, including those who could alter shirts and pants to fit us on the spot. Money didn’t buy happiness, they said, but I sure was happy we didn’t have to leave the hotel today. One perk of money was the ability to purchase distance, to buy enough space and comfort to get people to leave you alone.
I could live in a world with just my Kings for the rest of my days, and I would be content.
At least that’s what I told myself now, but I might change my mind when I wanted to have a night of girl talk and gossip. I missed my friends’ perspectives on things at times, and I could almost hear Penny’s voice telling me what to do when I was in really big trouble.
The clothes shopping took a couple of hours, and we ordered room service lunch brought up right after. Sometimes it seemed like all we did was eat and have sex, repeat, and go again.
Not that I was complaining, but life was happening outside of our hotel room, and we still had a mission to complete.
Step one, kidnap Maksim.
Step two, get Amara and Ivan back.
Step three, figure out how to ensure the Kostins leave us the fuck alone.
Step four, find Seymour.
Step five, get back into school.
Step six, I realized I needed a longer notepad because, my god, I had a lot of shit to do.
I watched the assistants measure the other two of my men, one by one, and admired my Kings for their gorgeous bodies and muscled legs. I particularly liked it when they had to have their inseam measured, and I caught a glimpse of their dick outlines in the loose pants they were wearing.
I thought about making it grey sweatpants season every day at home. I had to make a mental note to buy them each a pair of grey jersey pajamas for Christmas, so I’d have some eye candy around the house.
“What are you looking at, perv?” Ryker whispered in my ear as he sat down in the chair next to mine. He reached for half a sandwich and took a bite out of it. It was light, crusty bread with ham and cheese and tomatoes, and it was delicious. I’d eaten the other half just moments earlier.
“I think you know,” I laughed. “Come on, look at Kingston. He’s not even trying to hide that snake in his pants.”
“I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s got anything to brag about,” he chuckled. “Not like this.” He grabbed his own outline and squeezed it, drawing my attention down there.
Ryker and Kingston were locked in an eternal battle of who had a thicker package or who had one that was longer than the others. I didn’t know why they hadn’t measured it already.
Although I did, when I thought about it. I suspected they enjoyed the playful back and forth more than the actual winning.
I could understand. There was something fun about a little rivalry or fun banter. I loved arguing with my Kings about the dumbest things, sometimes just to hear my own voice.
The stylist finished up and announced that they would send the bill to Ivan directly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Ivan was missing, so I agreed and sent them on their way.
We spent the rest of the day going over the racetrack and looking for a place nearby to stage our operations.
“Maksim isn’t here until the main event day,” Kingston said and looked down at the map. “So if we can get there tomorrow, we’ll have an entire day to figure out the best place to get him.”
From everything we could call up online, from the map of the area to the building schematics of the entire place, nothing stood out for us.
There was no clear place to get the jump on Maksim.
“I wish we could just grab him from the parking lot,” I lamented after an hour of discussions that went nowhere. “He gets out of his car, we grab him, bingo bango.”
“What if we got him before he stepped out?” Valen asked. “What if we took him in his car?”
