“Damn, bitch,” I whistle. “We look good.”
Arina smirks, tossing her hair. “Good? Please. We look like playboy bunnies on probation. I’m not ending this party without getting laid tonight—I refuse.”
I laugh so hard I almost mess up my lipstick. “You better, girl. I’m not letting you waste that expensive costume.”
And just like that—we’re ready—ready to step out, ready to host, ready for whatever this night decides to throw at us.
The guests start rolling in, and the house glows like something out of a haunted house for real. Costumes flood through the front door one after another, flashes of glitter,feathers, and fake blood everywhere. I can’t stop staring—everyone lookssogood.
Some of the girls went all out—full witch costumes, velvet kitten body-suits, skirts so short they should come with a warning label. Slutty was clearly the theme, and they understood the assignment.
I’m just glad I haven’t seen another cop costume yet. That would’ve been sad for them to get kicked out so soon.
The guys, on the other hand, are either sweating to death in full masks and armor or is so committed to their character it’s like a damn comic con. There’s no in-between.
And honestly, I’m proud. Everyone stuck to the vibe. This isn’t some lazy kickback—it’s a full-blown Halloween takeover. The alcohol’s front and center, bottles lined up like an altar under the kitchen lights, counters stacked with pizza boxes and snacks. People dive in the second they walk in, cups in hand before they even hit the backyard—where the real party’s at.
At the door, my brother’s holding it down like a pro. Towering over everyone, he doesn’t even have to say much—his size does the talking. Normally, he’s quick to be on some dumb shit, but thankfully tonight he seems chill enough.
He did give me an attitude earlier about not paying him enough to play security, but Levy stepped in and handled it. Since he just started his new job earlier this week, he offered to pay my brother double what I promised—and that shut him up real quick. For the first time in weeks, I feel that little wave of gratitude. Things between us finally feel like they’re sliding back to normal, and I didn’t realize how much I missed that. The man I fell in love with.
Laughter spills over the beat, cups clinking, someone screaming over a drinking game. Every corner of the house is alive. I’ve been running around all night—locking bedroom doors, fixing decorations, making sure the food doesn’t runout—and somehow, Levy and I still haven’t really seen each other yet.
I’ve been waiting for the moment he finally sees me in my costume. I can already feel his reaction buzzing under my skin, like anticipation has its own pulse.
I’m straightening a stack of pizza boxes when I feel a warmth behind me, the kind that creeps across your skin before you even turn around. The music, the chatter, and the drunken yelling from the backyard blurs for a second, the air shifting just for him.
I glance over my shoulder to see Levy in his bright orange prisoner jumpsuit, with fake numbers stamped across his chest, smirk already forming. His gaze drags over me in one slow sweep, from the brim of my police cap, to my thighs down to my heels. My stomach tightens, pulse tripping over itself.
“Damn,” he stretches—loud enough that a few people nearby glance over. He steps into my space, crowding me like the party isn’t happening around us. “You lookwaytoo good to be walking around like this without me.”
There’s pride in his voice, admiration too—but underneath that softness, there’s something else. Something that says, You’re mine. Don’t forget it.
Before I form a reply, his hands find me—one slipping around my waist, the other settling at the small of my back, guiding me closer. He kisses me softly, almost reverent. The kind of kiss that feels like he’s putting on a show of sweetness even as his grip tightens just enough to remind me who’s really in control. His lips brush my cheekbone, the corner of my mouth, under my jaw—each one placed like he’s marking territory without smudging my makeup.
I let out a breathy laugh, tipping my head back as he trails another kiss along my jawline. “Levy, people are going to see…”
“Let them,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re mine. I want them to see.”
His voice dips lower, sincerity woven into every word. “I’m the luckiest man in this whole damn party to have you as my girl.” His tone is velvet enough to weaken me, but the subtext hits even deeper—
You’re mine to show off. Mine to claim. Mine, period.
“You don’t know how bad I want to hike that slutty little skirt up, bend you over, and drag my tongue all over that wet, pretty pussy until you’re shaking for me.” He slides his hand between my legs, grazing his fingers over my damp thong. Heat shoots through me, and I look around fast, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention.
He’s so bold I love it. His lips brush my ear as he growls,“I can’t wait to tear this skirt up tonight and fill you up so much you’ll still be dripping in the morning, while you still beg for more.”
“You better, or I’ll put you back in jail,” I tease, grinning. I push him off, laughing under my breath, but before I can take a step, his rough hand smacks my ass. The sting burns in the best way, pulling a gasp from me.
He presses up against me from behind, his body firm against mine, his tongue traces the rim of my ear, slow and teasing, before he pulls back just enough to whisper, “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
He finally peels himself away, flashing me that sly grin before turning and heading toward the backyard. I watch him disappear into the crowd of costumes and flashing lights, already mingling like he’s known everyone here for years.
I drift into the living room, weaving between bodies, laughing when I recognize familiar faces. The music is loud, drinks are flowing, and everyone’s already in high spirits. I end up in a circle with a few people from work and one girl Iremember seeing at a party months ago—now wearing nothing but a pair of shiny bunny ears, fishnets, and a skirt so short it might as well be missing.
As they chat, I nod along, but my mind starts to wander.Where’s Arina?It’s only been thirty minutes since the party started—she couldn’t have found someone already. But then again it is Arina.
I excuse myself with a smile and slip down the hallway, checking each of the bedroom doors as I go. Every one of them is locked tight, just like we planned. Still, I stop at Arina’s room, knocking lightly at first, then harder. I wait, listening, giving it a solid thirty seconds. Nothing. No movement, no answer.
