trying to get clean. Had to turn the water all the way to ice fucking cold so I don’t have a hard-on during lunch.”
I giggle as I follow him out of the bathroom while Alder stays behind to get cleaned up. “What? I was just puttin’ lotion on,” I say innocently.
Flint snorts and starts pickin’ through the clothes and gettin’ dressed. “Sure, Peaches.”
With another laugh, I pluck up the black underwear I find—notin’ with relief that it still has the tag on it—and slip them up my body. The only things left that aren’t for the guys to wear is a weird lookin’ top with strings like a corset and leather pants, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.
“How the heck does this work?” I ask, holdin’ up the dark gray top with strings.
Flint shrugs on the white T-shirt before walkin’ over to me, the bottoms of his jeans skimmin’ over the floor. He takes the top from me and turns it right side up. “Must be Delta’s—a shirt made for wings.”
Realization dawns. “Oh. Right. I forgot,” I say. I mean, I didn’t really forget. That’s kind of impossible to do when you have two heavy appendages attached to your back, but I haven’t really had the time to process what they mean on a practical level. Like havin’ to figure out how to get dressed with the damn things.
“Turn around,” Flint tells me.
I spin so my back is facin’ him, and he sucks in a breath. “Now there’s a sight,” he says, and I look over my shoulder at him to see that he’s lookin’ me over from head to toe, while I’m clad in nothin’ but a pair of black panties. He takes a step forward until I can feel the heat of his chest at my back. “I loved your hair before, but I love your wings and your new hair color too,” he muses, his hand comin’ up to skim over the curve of my feathers, makin’ me shiver.
He drops his arms and wraps them around me, fittin’ the front of the shirt to my chest. He takes special care that it’s lined up correctly by palmin’ my breasts until I smack his hands away with a laugh. “Get to work lacin’ up the back, mister.”
He chuckles and finally moves his hands off my chest. He slips my hair over my shoulder to leave my back bare, and chills erupt over my skin as I feel his lips skim over my neck. “Alder is right. Your skin is soft as a petal.”
A satisfied hum leaves my throat as he trails his mouth up to my ear, nibblin’ it gently before he pulls back. I feel him start to tie the top together beneath my wings, usin’ the corset-like strings to mold the fabric over me. Once it’s tight enough that my breasts aren’t gonna spill out, but not so tight that I can’t breathe, Flint finishes makin’ up the knot. “There you go, Peaches.”
“Thanks,” I say, my skin tinglin’ with the aftershocks of his touch.
I toss my hair up in a long ponytail and then look down at the last piece of clothin’ with a sigh before I start tuggin’ the leather pants on. It’s difficult. I have to shimmy and yank and curse and sweat, all while Flint grins at me where he’s sittin’ on the edge of the bed.
“Damn,” I huff when I finally get the things all the way up. “I mean...leather pants? I didn’t think anyone ever really had a reason to wear leather pants except for motorcycle clubs and Halloween. I don’t wanna wear these damn things,” I complain.
I didn’t peg Delta for a leather lovin’ freak, but now I’m questionin’ things. She was dressed normally when I saw her yesterday, but why would she own somethin’ like this, let alone give it to me to wear? It’s like I’m Buffy the Vampire Slayer after she joined a biker gang.
Alder comes out just then, yellow hair damp and white towel wrapped around his waist. He takes one look at me spinnin’ around in my new getup and whistles. His eyes go right to my ass. “You look sexy.”
Alright. I guess I’ll wear them.
“Yeah, I think leather pants are my new favorite thing,” Flint adds while Alder quickly gets dressed. I’d complain that they both get to wear comfy jeans and cotton shirts, but...the way they can’t take their eyes off me makes up for the skintight outfit.
Mostly, anyway.
28
“Ready?” I ask, now