Callisto carries Ozzie’s travel cage up, the parrot muttering curses as we get in the elevator. It only takes a minute to get to the rooftop, and I proudly throw my arms wide to indicate the building. “Welcome to Red’s Hot House.”
Rickon laughs as he looks up at my custom-ordered signage, the nest’s name burned into wooden planks and hung over the door. Just below, in smaller letters, hangs a second sign that reads:where the wild things rut.
“That’s hilarious,” Callisto says, snorting.
“And fitting,” Rickon adds with a sage nod.
I throw open the door and lead them inside among beams of golden sunlight.
“Wow, Red!” Rickon gasps, looking around.
I pop my hands on my hips and survey my handiwork. I limited pillows to a handful on the lounges and planter boxes, but on the bamboo platform I added a gorgeous teal and white wool rug so thick and lush you never want to stop touching it. Big, round rattan light shades dangle down among hanging baskets from the peaked roof, the lights glowing through the lush green foliage.
String bulbs drape above the day bed, also glowing with a soft yellow, colors muted by the gauzy red fabric overhead. Water tinkles in the background as it splashes over rocks in the corner fountain, and to our right gleams the brand new jacuzzi.
And my pièce de résistance—adhesive window stickers that look like stained glass—shine colored light all along the stone pathway.
Wonder flows through the bond as my alphas spread out to admire all my finishing touches. Callisto transfers Ozzie to his giant birdcage in the back corner near the fountain, and the bird whistles happily as he inspects his new digs.
“Hot House smell nice,” Zack says, sniffing the air as he wanders further along the path among shoulder-high shrubs. Ichuckle, knowing how we both feel about the overpowering city smells. Up here the air’s clean, and the only human scents are ours.
“I love those lights,” Rickon declares, looking up to admire the big rattan spheres.
I throw him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, nice contrast, right? And I decided no lanterns for me after all.” Not after one nearly burned me to death.
He nods, expression full of gentle understanding.
Instead of lanterns, I placed cute little solar lights and tin butterflies in the planters, adding splashes of interest everywhere, along with uplifting signs and wrought iron art on the walls. That’s about as cutesy as I get.
Rickon spots Doc Leanne’s mountain painting above the door and lifts one finger in silent exclamation.
I grin
“Very fitting,” he says, referring to the second lettered sign hung up beneath it that readsNever Stop Climbing.I think that’s my personal motto and will be for as long as I live.
“Red, I’m so amazed,” Callisto says, running his fingers through a wind chime and coaxing out a whimsical tinkle. “This is a space people would go ballistic over.”
“Even without fluffy pillows?” I ask, mostly teasing.
He reaches me in three strides and cups my cheek. “Even without fluffy pillows,” he promises, leaning down to kiss me.
I press into him, enjoying the freedom of kissing my prodigal alpha with no hangups.
The first twinge flares in my belly, and I activate my game plan, even though I know I still have maybe an hour. Tugging playfully out of Callisto’s hold, I walk over to the spa and climb the step. All eyes fasten on me as I turn and open my robe.
Zack growls and Rickon pats his hand to his chest.
“Damn, Red,” Callisto mutters.
The corset Rickon made for me hugs my torso, my breasts pushing up and peeking a little from the top. I found matching peppermint-green lace panties online, along with garters. My hunting proves successful as their eyes light up.
I drop the robe on the step and sit on the tub’s edge. My cheeks heat as I hold my hands out in invitation. “Shall we test out the tub?” I ask. “Thing is, I kinda want to get started instead of waiting around and letting the nerves bite.” I shrug my shoulders and look at them through my lashes. Will they mind?
Callisto strips off his polo shirt eagerly. “The best defense is a good offense, as they say.”
“Whatever you want, Biscuit,” Rickon adds. “I certainly won’t complain about getting a jump-start.” He grins, flashing white teeth as he peels off his sweatpants. “And you’re not the only one with surprises.”
My mouth floods as he reveals his uber sexy choice of underwear; a gold G-string that looks amazing against his pale skin, and, in true Rickon style, he’s wearing a matching harness on his upper body along with tasseled nipple covers.
