Monster mash, p.60
Monster Mash, page 60
He winked. “I know who I’m going home with.”
We gave Simon the night off and dropped him off at a luxury doggie hotel that came highly recommended. He bounded off into the play space almost as soon as Grey took the harness off. Grey was a little reluctant to leave him, but I assured Grey Simon had earned himself a small vacation. Vegas was going to be an assault on the senses for all of us, and neither of us wanted to put Simon through that.
Once we dropped Simon off, I called Inzo, who had decided we should all go in his limo. Grey ran his hands nervously over his shirt while we waited.
I threw a hand over his shoulder and pulled him close. “Quit fidgeting. You look fine.”
“I know. It’s just nerves. I ain’t never been much for the party scene.” He blew out a long breath.
I snorted. “That’s because there isn’t much of a party scene in Louisville, Grey.”
He turned his head and looked up at me with a frown. “Will you miss it? This side of your life?”
I considered the question, giving it the weight it deserved. My gut reaction was to say no immediately. Going out to clubs with Inzo was never my favorite thing, but it was nice every once in a while, mostly because he was so damn uptight. Getting that Incubus to relax used to be a full-time job.
“I’ll miss being with my friends,” I answered, “but we’ll keep in touch. It’s not a big deal, Grey.”
“Well, maybe we can come out here a few times a year for a weekend of Vegas-style debauchery.”
I snickered at that, but I also couldn’t deny it had some appeal. I enjoyed corrupting Grey.
A horn blared and a huge limousine with tinted windows pulled up. One of the back doors opened up—literally up like in a freaking DeLorian.
Inzo leaned out and yanked his sunglasses off his face. “Get in, losers. We’re going to Vegas.”
Greyson
The back of the limousine wasn’t as crowded as I expected, though I was sure there were more people in there than I thought there would be. I had only been expecting Inzo, Adam, and then their two friends, Matteo and Ezra, but there were at least two or three others, I was sure of it.
Gaston slid onto the bench seat next to me, twining his fingers in mine, and the limousine started moving as soon as they shut the door, and the seat shifted as Gaston leaned forward. There was the sound of him exchanging grips with someone across from us, someone who I sensed was even larger than Gaston. “Matteo! Hey, man. How’s married life treating you?”
“Not bad, not bad. How was Louisville?” Matteo replied in a deep voice.
“Great, obviously.” They shared a chuckle before Gaston put an arm around my shoulders. “Everybody, this is Greyson Boggs, my mate. Greyson, this is Matteo Reyes, Minotaur baker and owner of Beefcakes bakery.”
I stuck my hand out in the direction I’d heard his voice.
A huge furry hand engulfed mine. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Jesus, ain’t he adorable, love?” chirped an unfamiliar voice in a lilting Irish accent. A human hand took mine and shook lightly. “I’m Ezra Higgins. And this is a Mai Tai.” He pressed a cold glass into my hand.
“Don’t get him drunk before we ever get there.” I turned my head to the right, surprised when I recognized my agent’s voice.
“Nicola?”
“Present,” replied the mothfolk, and a delicate furry hand took mine briefly. “Though I’m a little jetlagged myself. I might need some more coffee before the night is out.”
“White Russians all around!” Ezra declared, and there was the sound of glasses tinkling and drinks pouring.
I had no idea how he could pour drinks in a moving car. It was probably an acquired skill.
I sat back, sipping the mai tai, which was unexpectedly delicious. The last time I’d seen the ocean it’d been winter in New Orleans and it wasn’t much of a sight, but sipping that mai tai was like getting transported to the nicest beach I’d never been to.
The seat dipped next to me as unfamiliar weight settled in on the other side from Gaston. “Hey,” said Adam quietly. “Glad you came. It’s nice to have another human on board, you know?”
I smiled warmly. “Glad to be here.”
“And what am I? Chopped liver?” Ezra snorted.
“You’ll be drunk in an hour,” Adam accused.
“I’ll have you know, I can drink both of you under the table, despite appearances,” Ezra said, though there was no heat in it.
“And with his pinky up,” Matteo added.
“That’s right. Drinking is Ireland’s national sport.” Ezra laughed. “In all seriousness, welcome to the MFAS, Greyson.”
I frowned. “MFAS?
Ezra shifted in his seat, the ice in his glass striking the glass lightly as he did. “Monster fuckers anonymous and spouses.”
My cheeks flushed, but Gaston snickered next to me.
“Honestly, you couldn’t come up with a better name?” Inzo complained.
“I thought we were using HOMC?” Adam protested.
Inzo snorted. “As if husbands of monster cock is any better. You humans…” He rattled off something in what sounded like Italian that made Adam laugh.
Ezra sipped loudly from his drink. “Really, we need to find a human for Nicola. Then we can be the fantastic fucking four.”
Nicola made a small sound of distress. “Oh, stars. I need to be more drunk for this conversation.”
“That’s it.” Ezra set his glass down somewhere. “All in favor of finding Nicola a human hookup tonight, say aye!”
There was a round of ayes in the limo before Nicola sighed. “Really, I’m fine. I’m too busy for a relationship.”
“All work and no play makes Nic a dull moth,” Inzo chided.
“And who said anything about a relationship? Ezra said hookup,” Matteo added.
Ezra clapped his hands. “Tell us, Nic, what sort of lad you fancy?”
“Right now, I fancy a refill,” Nicola muttered, making everyone laugh. He cleared his throat. “So Greyson… Ever been to Vegas?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Ain’t never been further west than New Orleans.”
“Good lord, that accent is so fucking adorable,” Ezra said with a dreamy sigh. “You’re like a…long haired cowboy.”
“He’d look good in a Stetson, wouldn’t he?” Gaston added, nuzzling against my ear and making my face heat even more.
“We should go somewhere with one of those mechanical bulls,” Adam suggested.
“Nope,” Matteo said firmly, and Ezra made a small sound of irritation as his husband pulled him into his lap. “I’m the only bull this one gets to ride.”
“Christ knows, I’d probably give myself a concussion, but I’d be keen to see you do it, love,” Ezra countered in a saccharine tone.
Inzo groaned. “Those places are so…pedestrian. Do you know what a field day the press would have if I took Adam into such a place?”
“Well, just for that, I’m having one installed at Bluz when we get back,” Gaston declared.
“Oh, if you do, I want to ride it!” Adam was practically vibrating in his seat with excitement.
“No,” Inzo said firmly. “No mechanical bulls.”
“You’ve only got a forty-nine percent stake,” I pointed out and leaned into Gaston. “If the pack wants a mechanical bull, it’s going in. I got your back, Sunshine.”
“Sunshine?” Ezra sighed dreamily again. “Jesus, they’re adorable, aren’t they, love?”
“Practically good enough to eat,” Matteo agreed.
I was blushing so hard, I thought my face might catch fire, so I buried it against Gaston’s arm.
“All in favor of a mechanical bull at Bluz?” Ezra demanded.
Everyone in the car shouted, “Aye.”
Everyone except for Inzo, who huffed and swished his tail through the air. “Tasteless plebeians.”
“Come on, Inzo,” Matteo said, patting Inzo’s back loudly. “They just want to ride the bull. I mean, can you blame ‘em? Look at me. Even your anima is curious.”
Inzo growled in response, but Adam soothed him by getting up and going across the limo to sit in his lap. “Aw, baby, you know I’ve only got eyes for you,” he said, planting a kiss on Inzo’s cheek.
I smiled as Inzo grumbled something in Italian again.
“A toast to our new friends, Greyson and Gaston,” Ezra declared. “May your troubles be less, and your blessings more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.”
“Hear, hear!” Inzo agreed and several glasses clinked together.
I smiled warmly and thrust my half finished mai tai into the fray, striking several glasses on the way. We’d only been in the limo for a handful of minutes and I was already feeling comfortable around Gaston’s friends. All this time, I’d been worried they wouldn’t like me, that they would all be rich, uptight assholes, but they all seemed pretty down to earth.
“Music!” Ezra shouted as soon as we’d all taken a drink.
“Oh! I know!” Adam said excitedly.
There was the sound of several buttons beeping and a second later, the opening bars of Uptown Funk started playing over some speakers. Adam and Ezra immediately picked up the tune.
Gaston’s tail started wagging along with the beat. He elbowed me, goading me to sing.
I wasn’t going to, but then Ezra landed in the seat next to me, putting an arm over my shoulders, belting out the lyrics, and I just couldn’t help myself.
Gaston
By the time we arrived at The Millenium, everybody in the car except for me and Matteo was pleasantly buzzed. Even Inzo, which was more fun than it should’ve been. Ezra was well on his way to being totally smashed, which had Matteo ordering some water and a pizza for him once we reached Inzo’s private booth.
Adam dragged Inzo immediately to the dance floor, which left Ezra pouting because he wanted to dance. Matteo wouldn’t have it though, insisting that he down the water and some food first.
Grey and I sat in the booth with them. As much as I wanted to go out and dance, I wanted to give Grey a little time to acclimate. Music thumped loudly through the club, vibrating in the seat and in my chest.
I ordered us a pair of bourbons from the top shelf, and they came with a couple of appletinis that apparently Ezra and Adam had ordered, while Nic ordered an Irish coffee. Nic unfurled the long, straw-like appendage from his mouth and slurped up the drink.
I hugged Grey closer, noting that he wasn’t as stiff as usual. Maybe the buzz was good for him. “You doin’ okay?”
“Havin’ the time of my life,” he replied.
“Wait until you get out there to dance,” Ezra said between dainty bites of pizza.
“Ezra used to dance competitively,” Matteo said proudly.
“Christ. It was step dance,” Ezra muttered. “I’m useless with this modern shit. I look like an idiot.”
Matteo grinned widely. “That’s half the fun.”
“Ain’t it, though?” Greyson offered.
Adam burst into the booth, arm in arm with another human I didn’t recognize and laughing like a pair of madmen. Adam had gained a couple of star stickers on his cheeks, and the other man—who was six and a half feet of sweaty muscle—seemed to have lost his shirt, if he ever had one at all.
“Oh my god,” Adam declared, plopping into his chair and taking his appletini in hand. “You guys, this is the best night ever.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re inebriated, darling,” Inzo said, following them in with only a hint of a smile.
“I’m not in…indeb…I’m not drunk.”
I snickered because he most definitely was, but Adam was a pleasant drunk, the kind who loved everybody and everything.
“Who’s your friend?” Nic asked, eying the stranger with obvious interest.
“Everybody, this is Tripp Powers,” Adam announced proudly.
Greyson immediately sat up straighter. “Tripp Powers, goalie for the Hustle? That Tripp Powers?”
I frowned, glancing around at all the people with stars in their eyes. It seemed I was the only one who had no idea who this guy was.
Tripp gave us a cocksure grin. “That’s me!” He had a hint of an accent, but I couldn’t place it.
Adam smirked over his appletini at Nic, who was clearly smitten with the man. “Tripp’s opening a chain of coffee shops and looking for a PR guy to help him advertise.”
“Really?” Nic said with exaggerated interest. He slid over, making room on the bench seat, and patted the space next to him. “Let’s talk.”
I took that as my cue to grab Grey and take him out to the dance floor. Matteo and Ezra were all too happy to follow, and Adam and Inzo weren’t far behind.
The music was loud and the dance floor crowded, but space seemed to clear around us, mostly due to people avoiding Matteo and Inzo’s tail. There were a few camera flashes as people spotted Inzo and Adam, but the rest of us instinctually circled around them, preventing anyone from swooping in to interrupt their fun.
I pulled Grey close, his hips swaying enticingly against me. “So, who is he?”
“Who?” He tipped his head to the side to hear me better.
“That Tripp guy. Who is he?”
Grey’s eyes widened, and he turned around, breaking our embrace without ever halting his movement. “You really don’t know? He only holds the career record for the most goals, most assists, and most time spent in the penalty box concurrently in the entire NHL.”
“Oh. Hockey.” I snorted. “No wonder I don’t know him.”
“Not a fan?” he asked, backing up against me.
I shrugged. “I don’t follow hockey. What’s a guy like that doing opening a coffee shop?” While he wouldn’t be the first athlete to jump from sports to food, it seemed like an odd fit.
“Whatever he wants?” Grey said with a big grin. “Now stop talking and dance.”
“Bossy,” I growled and kissed his neck. “I like you bossy.”
He let out a low sound like a purr. “How bossy?”
I leaned in, my snout next to his ear. “I’d let you top me if you wanted.”
He froze in place and turned to look at me as if he wasn’t sure I was serious. “You’re drunk.”
“A little,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t make it less true. I like it when you call me puppy, too,” I said, nuzzling against him.
Grey shuddered against me, making my half hard cock stiffen. “Would you sit at my feet like a good boy?”
I let out a low, approving growl, grinding against him. “In a heartbeat.”
He turned around, sliding his fingers under the bottom hem of my shirt to grip the short fur on my stomach. “I think you’d look good in a collar,” he said with a smirk. “And a leash.”
I pulled him against me, practically dry humping him on the dance floor. Maybe I should’ve been ashamed, but I had too much alcohol and not enough cares, especially with Greyson. “Sounds good to me.”
He chuckled and let his head rest against my chest. “Really? I thought you’d be against it considering your standing in the pack…”
I closed a hand over his. “Fuck the pack. They don’t matter when I’m with you.”
He looked up at me, his expression too much. Arousal and affection bled through the bond, swelling in my chest enough that I briefly considered taking him into the bathroom to fuck him there. But Grey deserved more than a half-drunk fuck in a bathroom stall at a club, so I settled for kissing him instead.
Someone bumped into me, knocking us apart. “Oops,” Matteo said, flashing me a wink.
I growled at him, but it was just as well. It wouldn’t do for me to tackle Grey to the dance floor and fuck him in front of everyone, even though I still wanted to.
Greyson
We danced a little while longer, but eventually, the humans decided collectively to hit the toilets and then go sit while our monstrous mates stayed out on the dance floor.
Gaston’s confession was still heavy on my mind as we made our way back to Inzo’s private booth, which was empty. Apparently, Nico and Tripp had hit it off enough to go dancing. Not that I wasn’t into what Gaston had proposed, but I was nervous about it, having never done anything like that before.
“Jesus, my dogs are killin’ me,” Ezra complained, propping his feet up on Matteo’s empty chair. “I haven’t danced like that since my teenage years.”
“You’re an excellent dancer, though,” Adam slurred. “You and Matteo are hot together. It’s like watching two people fuck with their clothes on.”
Ezra laughed and leaned back in his chair. “That’s all him. Did you know my husband was a bloody porn star for a while?”
“No!” Adam said in exaggerated disbelief.
“A delicious solo act,” Ezra confirmed and leaned in to whisper, as much as one could whisper above the pounding bass. “He still makes videos. Just for me, though. I’m a selfish fucker. I told him to go make one in the bathroom for me and send it to my phone.” He sounded particularly proud of himself.
Adam snorted. “Inzo would never do anything like that.”
“Probably a good thing. You know someone would find it and leak it. The paparazzi are on you two like bees on honey,” Ezra said.
I sighed. “I know the feeling to a certain extent. Everybody in Louisville knows Gaston, and now me. We can’t even go out to breakfast without someone coming over to ask for an autograph.”
“Ah, the pressures of fame,” Ezra lamented. “I’m glad I married someone who isn’t globally recognized for anything other than his big cock. Nobody knows his face.”
“Is it really that big?” Adam asked, sipping from his drink.
“Have you never seen one?”
“I’ve seen the toys they make,” Adam said quietly. “Is it like that?”
Ezra laughed. “You know, I’ve never actually been to a sex shop?”
“Really?” Adam said, sounding interested. “I mean, I don’t go often, but that’s just because me and Inzo order our stuff online. I like to go for the ambiance.”
