Page 39 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHLOE
The vagina-shaped cake perched on the front table like a centerpiece wasn’t even the weirdest part of the night.
Neither was the lube tasting station or the lacy thong toss Mabel had set up like the ringtoss game—winner to take home a basket full of bad decisions.
Nope. The weirdest part was that this sex-toy-and-sass-fueled extravaganza actually felt…
normal . Like it was just another Thursday night in Starlight Cove.
The Love Yourself evening was in full swing at Wicked Little Things, and I was, somehow, in charge of it all. Me—the girl whose résumé was a mile long and who couldn’t even commit to shampoo for more than a month was running things over here. And not just running them, but absolutely nailing it.
I’d managed to get people in the door who’d never so much as looked sideways at one of Mabel’s displays. But more than that, I got women laughing and joking and talking and bonding and loving themselves , which was the whole damn point.
“I’ve got some Screaming Orgasms coming through!” I weaved my way through a group of giggling women, a tray of cocktails perched on my hand.
Willa snagged one, sniffed it, and downed it in one gulp before scrunching up her nose. “Could be better, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve swallowed by the same name,” she murmured.
“That belongs on a shirt,” I said, handing her a condom that glittered like a disco ball and sparkling lube to match. “Compliments of Mabel.”
“If these don’t come with a matching vibe, what are we even doing here?”
I snorted and shook my head. “You gotta talk to the woman in charge. I just throw the parties.”
“And you do them so well,” Sutton said, sidling up to me and grabbing a Screaming Orgasm off my tray. “This turnout is amazing. How did you get Hot Librarian to come?”
“You know we’re actually going to have to use her name when we speak to her, right?”
“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes and downed the shot. “Now, what’s your secret?”
“Wasn’t me.” I glanced over to where Penelope was sitting, stiff as a statue and trying desperately not to make eye contact with the ten-speed monstrosity to her right. “Holly dragged her over straight from work. Didn’t even let the poor girl go home and change.”
“That’s because she would’ve stayed home,” Luna said, grabbing the last Screaming Orgasm off the tray. “I’ve lived here for a couple years, and I rarely see that girl outside the library. It’s good Holly pushed her.”
“Maybe.” I glanced in Penelope’s direction again, taking in her rigid posture.
Her arms were folded over her chest, her cardigan buttoned all the way up like it was the only shield she had access to.
“But maybe pushing her to sit directly in front of the large display of monster peens was a bit much.”
“Oh, come on. Everyone loves an obscene tentacle dick.” Sutton glanced between us, her brows raised. “Am I right?”
I snorted and shook my head, doing a quick survey of the space. Mabel had turned the boutique into a sparkly, lace-draped den of sin where women were free to be…well, free. The music was thrumming, the conversation was flowing, and everything was damn near perfect.
Luna linked her arm through mine and tipped her head toward me. “Look at what you did, Chloe. You got all these women here and convinced them there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure—it’s just pleasure . That’s pretty amazing.”
I smiled, because that was the whole point of all this ridiculousness—of the glitter and lube and the vulva cake proudly displayed in the front window.
This was meant to be a night about pleasure without apology.
About women claiming space without saying sorry.
About them not feeling guilty for their wants or their needs and, instead, just going after them.
But my smile felt a little too tight as I glanced around. Because while, yes, it did feel amazing to have a hand in that, it was also a harsh reminder.
It was easy to teach everyone else how to be soft and open and brave. But it was a hell of a lot harder to have faith that I could do the same.
“You’re out of Buttery Nipples,” Quinn called from the front of the store, where she was keeping inventory.
“On it!” I hollered, grateful for that interruption. I made my way toward the back, tossing Sutton a quick thumbs-up as she coached Penelope on proper vibe technique before slipping into the back room.
The door shut behind me, dimming the music and the laughter and all the noise, but that only made me want to get back out there quicker.
I’d always been a people person—loved getting lost in a crowd—but there was something special here, tonight.
Watching women who’d been scared of or scared away from pleasure seek that for themselves was so damn empowering.
And I loved that I’d had a little something to do with it.
Well, me and the orgasm fairy, Mabel.
As I loaded my tray with more shots, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I reached for it, expecting a text from Xander or a directive from Mabel, but instead, I found a calendar notification.
Get ready! Sedona reset in 10 days.
The phone screen dimmed, but the tight, hot feeling in my chest didn’t fade. If anything, it spread until it beat like a drum through my veins, impossible to ignore.
It was the same notification that had been popping up every year for the past decade. The one I was usually desperate to see. The one that filled me with hope and excitement and happiness about everything that was on the horizon.
Tonight, all it filled me with was dread.
Raucous laughter floated in from the other room, reminding me that all those women I brought together were out there finding freedom through something as simple as frilly lingerie and battery-operated boyfriends.
They were realizing it was okay to want more, and they were choosing themselves on purpose.
And me? I was standing in a stock room with foreboding drowning out the happiness that had been echoing through me while staring at a reminder that I had one foot out the door.
I always had one foot out the door.
Leaving was safe. It was easy. It was all I knew.
But part of me—the part who believed every word Xander had ever whispered against my ear while he was inside me and read something into the smiles and laughter his little girl shot my way every day—started to wonder what it might feel like if I stayed.