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I clenched my jaw, gaze darting back to the jockstrap he was holding up like a prize.

Was my burning desire to get one over on Vince enough to make me do this?

“Maybe choking on my dick will take you down a peg or two.”

“Maybe if I fucked your slut throat, you’d stop walking around like you fucking own the place.”

“Say please, your highness.”

“Say you’re a needy little cockslut.”

“Say, ‘Please give me your cock, Vince. I need it.’”

“Fine,” I gritted out, clenching my fists as heat throbbed in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll consider it.”

“Wonderful!” Holt said brightly, finally putting down the godsdamned jockstrap. “I’ll let them know you’re interested and they can send you some of their product. They do briefs too. And thongs! Maybe you could start wearing them in the ring.”

“I’m not wearing a fucking thong to wrestle,” I snapped.

“It doesn’t have to be the thong, but the brand would love it. And the audience. So maybe think about it. While I think about the match line-up for next week.”

“Fine,” I ground out again, turning to leave before he could coerce me into anything else.

Had I really just agreed to be the face of a brand called FAE BOYZ that made sparkly purple jockstraps?

My mother would kill me if she found out.

Or, gods forbid, saw the pictures.

Chapter Five

The Lingering Horrors of Frank and Beans

Vince

“I want to burn all of it,” Dan muttered to me with a shudder.

A small group of us were sifting through the pile of stuff Frank and Beans had stolen from our dressing rooms over the years. Mads found several pairs of sunglasses. Heidi found an old tin of hoof polish that had teeth marks in it. Susan, horrifyingly enough, found a big lock of her long, dark hair. None of us could figure out how they’d managed to get it, and she got a little freaked out and disappeared to call Asmo.

There were also empty bottles of tequila stolen from the bar. One of Val’s sports bras. A pair of tiny lace panties that Gabe snatched up and stuffed in his pocket, shooting Biff a smirk. Kenneth found a collection of his knitting needles that had gone missing over the years, which was beyond worrying.

Thank fuck those two thieving assholes were never coming back.

“I still keep wondering about that fucking sand pit, man,” I muttered back to Dan, making sure to keep my voice low so none of the others would overhear and ask what we were talking about.

I didn’t particularly want to recount our experience in that house of horrors. Getting lassoed. And shot in the nuts with a paintball. Losing my pants.

I missed those pants.

“Just try not to think about it.” Dan shivered. “I had a nightmare last night about that head collection in their living room. Woke Rafe up. He said I was just mumbling, ‘The heads. The heads.’”

“Shit, bro.” I squeezed his shoulder in sympathy.

That experience had brought us even closer together. He was like my brother now. We’d forged a bond that could never be broken.

“So then I gave him a different kind of head to make myself feel better,” Dan continued, smirking as I laughed and shoved his arm.

“It’s going good then? I know it hasn’t been long since you became all official and stuff, but you’re still happy with the decision to be in a proper relationship?”