wall, and half a dozen sets of lingerie had been artfully arranged on the bed. The outfits ranged from a sweet but short white lace teddy to a flirty babydoll made of a pink gauzy material complete with fur trim to a leather corset and thigh-high boots. Butch had overdone it again.
“It’s the right room,” he said, a blush coursing up his neck. When he’d requested such items, he hadn’t realized it would look like he was taking his brand new lover on a freaking honeymoon.
“What is all this?” She came into the room, glancing around wide-eyed, and set her messenger bag down by the door.
Embarrassed, he shrugged. There was no way in hell he was admitting that this was his idea. “I guess the guys thought it would be funny to tease me about our first night together in a hotel.”
He turned his head to peer at her sidelong. Was she buying it? A balloon bounced off his face when she volleyed it in his direction with the palm of her hand. He sent a barrage of balloons back her way, but very few managed to touch her. The helium kept sending them toward the ceiling before they could connect. But she was laughing as she fended off his attack with a swatting hand, and his embarrassment over discovering he was a romantic sap was quickly replaced by a buoyancy in his heart. Must be the balloons. He grabbed one in his hand and Toni’s arm in the other, tugging their bodies together with the balloon squashed between their bellies.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her face flushed with laughter as she stared up at him.
His arms circled her back and his hands slid down to her ass to tug her closer. “There are too many balloons in this room.”
The balloon squeaked in protest as their bodies came closer together.
“Don’t break—”
Pop!
They both jumped at the sound and then burst out laughing. He couldn’t resist kissing her smiling lips. When he drew away, she cocked her head to the side and scrutinized his face.
“So how did the pranksters know I like strawberry shortcake?” she asked.
Just play dumb. “What strawberry shortcake?”
“That family-sized one over on the table. I can’t wait to devour it.”
Logan turned his head to pretend to notice the pizza-sized cake covered with strawberries and whipped cream for the first time. “That is huge. Strange coincidence that it happens to be your favorite.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, not sounding the least convinced. She pulled away and darted across the room. “So what’s in the sacks?”
She’d probably believe his bandmates would tease them by filling their room with sex toys, so he didn’t try to stop her.
Her brow crumpled as she pulled a package out of the first bag. “Socks?”
She held up a clearly marked package containing a dozen pairs of plain white tube socks.
“More socks?” She pulled out another pack of tube socks and another.
Logan snorted and burst out laughing. He hadn’t been specific about the kind of socks.
“Why do you need so many socks? Are your feet cold?”
He shook his head. “Toss me a bag and I’ll show you what they’re for.”
He ripped open the package she tossed to him and rolled up the sock, tucking the bulk of the sock into the open end so that it formed a soft ball. Standing next to the far side of bed, Toni watched him as he did the same on about half the socks in the pack, setting each ball in a neat pile on his side of the mattress between her new corset and lace teddy.
“That’s a strange way to fold socks,” she said, fingering the soft fur that edged a tiny pink thong.
He lifted one of the balls and tossed it up and down in one hand.
“Sock ball fight!” he announced before throwing the sock at her and catching her in the shoulder. He managed to pummel her with several sock balls from his pile before she dove behind the bed for cover. A moment later her head poked up over the mattress and she threw a recovered sock ball at him, missing him by a mile. He bounced a ball off her head before she disappeared below the edge of the mattress again.
“No fair!” she cried. “I don’t have any ammo.”
“You have five bags of ammo,” he said, tossing another sock ball at her.
“No prepared ammo!”
He heard the sound of plastic tearing. A sock went sailing over the bed in his direction.