and knelt at my feet. Before I knew it, he yanked down the zipper on one of the boots. Then he flung it across the room. I would have smacked him, but my brain went on hold when he ran his hand up my leg and slowly lifted his gaze. “Your legs are your best asset.”
Shepherd and Wyatt turned away, grimacing at each other and hunching their shoulders.
“And you expect me to walk around in my socks?”
He reached beneath Wyatt’s desk and pulled out a brown box. Shepherd scooted aside as Christian popped off the lid and tossed the white tissue paper aside.
I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw the boots.
Expensive Christian Louboutin boots.
I reached inside and touched the red bottom of one. “Hello, darling.”
Christian set the box down and put the sexy ankle boots on my feet. They fit like a glove.
I lifted one leg to look at the bottom. “Are the heels stunners?”
Wyatt snorted. “Leave it to Raven to ask a question like that.”
Christian let his fingers trail up my thigh as he stood up. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to customize your footwear, but I wager they’ll hurt all the same when planted firmly in an eye socket.”
I smiled at him. “Good thinking.”
Wyatt cracked open a can of root beer. “I put a tracker inside one of them, so be like Dorothy and don’t take them off.”
I looked them over, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “How?”
He wiggled his fingers. “Magic. I know a guy who makes microchips. Just do me a favor and don’t get them wet.”
Blue hustled into the room, her face beaming with excitement. “Wait’ll you see this,” she said quietly.
Christian and I parted like the Red Sea and faced the doorway. A few seconds later, Claude appeared in nothing but combat boots and skintight shorts.
Shiny. Gold. Shorts.
His look soured when he was greeted by wolf whistles and stunned looks.
Claude’s skin had a soft golden hue, but now it shimmered as if someone had dipped him in a vat of gold. I swiped my finger across his bicep and looked at the creamy residue that left flecks of glitter on my hands when I tried to wipe it off. Claude had curly hair but not tight curls. His lustrous blond locks were large and messy—like those Greek statues I’d seen in books.
“Jesus fuck,” Shepherd muttered. “You’re not riding in my car with that shit all over you. I’ll be picking it out of my seats for the next century.”
Claude’s eyebrows sloped down as he gave Christian a thorny look. “Blame the Vamp. Body glitter was on his list. Or was this a joke?”
“It’s not a joke,” I said, drawing his attention to my outfit.
Claude glowered. “At least you have a shirt on.”
Wyatt spun his chair back around to look at his computer screen. “Since when do you wear a shirt around here? I’ve seen more of your nipples than I’ve seen from my dates.”
“He’s got you there.” Blue’s jaunty smile belied the black mood I’d found her in earlier. “I wouldn’t worry about standing out. You’ll blend in with everyone else. Just another piece of meat.”
Christian snapped his fingers. “That reminds me.” He reached for a small bag beneath his desk and handed it to Claude. “Since you couldn’t find any at the mall, I bought these at the costume shop.”
Inside the bag was a handful of masks that would cover our eyes. Some were fabric and a few were embroidered lace. The cloth ones reminded me of the Zorro mask that Hunter sometimes wore.
Wyatt typed on his keyboard. “I think Claude should just paint his on. That would look awesome—like a superhero or something. Captain Glitter.”
“He looks like a unicorn pissed on him,” Shepherd remarked.
Blue plopped down on the sofa. “I don’t know. I think he resembles a prestigious award.”
Claude heaved a sigh before exiting the room. We all stared at his buns in those tight shorts, and they were something to behold. With broad shoulders, nice legs, and a V-shaped torso, Claude was the whole package.
Yep. This was going to be a memorable assignment.
Wyatt turned the steering wheel with one hand and grabbed a handful of fries out of a paper sack with the other. Between bites, he would shift gears, leaving granules of salt all over the place. I couldn’t get used to sitting on what was supposed to be the driver’s side. Wyatt’s red 1971 Austin Mini Cooper looked like a toy with its bucket seats,