The party was in full swing.
The double doors into the bar and restaurant were propped open, creating a throughway from drinks to food, and guests mingling everywhere in between. He forged a path around the clowder, almost taking an elbow to the chest as they sucked in an extra kitten and celebrated by jumping around, arms flailing.
He spotted Callie dressed as Little Bo Beep, and needed to take a moment to rein in his laughter when he caught sight of her husbands—the owners of Serenity were most certainly in character, looking decidedly sheepish in their sheepskin waistcoats.
The red ribbon around each of their necks with a little bell on was a nice touch.
Reaux appreciated attention to detail.
Grit was standing by the bar, beer in hand, talking to Jonah as Reaux walked up. Grinning, the Master of Security raised the bottle in welcome. “You made it. Can I get you a drink?”
“That’s my job,” Jonah reminded him.
“Maybe later. I was hoping to find Violet.”
“Oh, she stole Tabitha for one last pep talk before you guys leave. Damn shame,” Grit muttered, taking a swig of beer. “You are one lucky bastard, you know that, right? The bosses hired some fantastic Mistresses, but Violet… there’s gonna be a big hole come morning. I guess Serenity’s loss is Amatory’s gain.”
“If you want me to apologize, I’m not going to do so.”
“I wouldn’t either, but you might need to apologize for the lack of effort in your costume.”
“This coming from…” Eyeballing the tan-colored shorts and shirt, Reaux lifted a brow.
“I’m the Zookeeper. My tiger’s on the loose.”
“Did you actually dress that firecracker up like a tiger?”
“Hell, yeah. Tabitha’s learning to let go and have some fun. It’s a long, drawn out process, but we’re getting there.” Grit’s gaze arrowed to the doorway, softening as it landed on something he loved so much, it lit him up on the inside. “She’s stunning, isn’t she?”
Reaux turned, but his eyes slid over the petite blonde wearing a white tiger mask and matching catsuit to land on the woman who’d walked out of their cabin earlier in an entirely different ensemble. “Yes, she is. Jonah, I have an urge to dance with my soon to be wife; are you taking requests?”
“Song requests?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, sure, I guess.” Jonah pushed a notepad and pen across the bar. “Write it down.”
Scribbling the song title, Reaux pushed it back toward him, then tipped an imaginary hat. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I hear the dulcet tone of the Mistress calling me.”
Grit laughed. “You’ve got better hearing than either of us then.”
“She speaks to my heart,oui?”
He crossed over to her, inclining his head toward Tabitha in acknowledgement of her presence, and took Violet’s hand. As he lifted it to his lips, the bell sleeve of her sinful black dress slipped down, exposing her forearm. Being him, he took full advantage, kissing her palm, her wrist, all the way to the elbow. “Mistress, you are… exquisite. Simplymagnifique.”
An imperious eyebrow rose. “And yet my Gomez is not suitably attired to accompany his Morticia.” She glanced at Tabitha. “I don’t think he deserves this dress or what’s under it, do you?”
Honestly, he didn’t think therewasanything under the black silky fabric. Although her arms were covered by those lengthy sleeves and her shoulders were covered, there was a large section of fabric missing, leaving her throat and a lot of her gorgeous cleavage exposed; it was tempting just to sink his face into those perfect breasts and spend the rest of the evening there.
More material hugged her ribs and waist like a second skin, accentuating her curves, before two high slits started at her hips, revealing beautifully strong thighs he knew from personal experience marked so easily. Such soft, creamy skin.
A long strip of material hung between the slits, offering very little protection.
He couldn’t see panty lines, any hint of a thong, nothing.
If she was commando under that thing…
Tabitha cleared her throat, but her voice still cracked slightly when she said, “That dress needs a lot more effort.”
