Page 77 of Sin

“Of course,” London said while I finished yanking on the rest of my clothes. And then he did something I hadn’t seen coming. He sat shoulder to shoulder with me, letting the length of his arm press against my own. When his pinky finger skimmed over and over mine, I was pretty sure I stopped breathing.

“We’re doing one of my favorite things,” Bennett said, reminding me we weren’t alone. As we pulled to a stop across the street from a single-story home with bright yellow shutters, an equally yellow door, and several dead bushes lined up along the front, Bennett turned to me with a grin brimming with glee. “We’re visiting my in-laws!”

Chapter Seventeen

Just one step at a time, yes?

Bennett hummed to himself as he stuffed a trash bag over his husband’s head. The guy was so tall and broad that the bag only reached his torso.

And I’d thought Jinx was a mammoth.

I also noted that he hadn’t made Nick strip naked and made a mental note to punch the shapeshifter before the night was through.

Fucking Bennett.

Bennett frowned, eyeing the trash bag like it had betrayed him. “This won’t do. Maybe we can use two? One on top, one on bottom, and tie them in the middle?”

“Sometimes I question why I married you,” Nick muttered as Bennett proceeded to grab a second trash bag and rip two holes for Nick’s legs.

“Oh, come on,” Bennett said, helping Nick step into the bag. “You know exactly why you married me.” He rose to his tip toes and whispered-shouted into Nick’s ear, “My incredible blow job skills.”

Nick rolled his eyes, but I caught the amusement in his gaze as he watched Bennett make several knots with his hand and stump. When he’d successfully tied the trash bags together around his middle, Bennett stepped back to give him a better look.

I cocked my head and looked the Super over as well. Even if he tucked his limbs inside, I didn’t think he would actually pass as a trash bag. He just looked… weird.

“You’re perfect,” Bennett promised, trying to shove Nick across the street, but Nick resisted. Being that he was a Super with super strength, Bennett couldn’t move him an inch.

“Nope. Sorry, Bennett.” Grabbing the bags, Nick ripped them clean off. “Not happening.”

“You’re no fun,” Bennett muttered.

Nick tilted his chin, getting him to look at him. “How about a good old-fashioned doorbell ditch? Would that suffice?”

Muttering something, Bennett sighed. “I suppose.”

Shaking his head, Nick stuffed the trash bags into the truck before snatching up Bennett’s and Charlie’s hands. “Come on, you two. Let’s get this over with.”

“Why exactly are we here?” Mare asked no one in particular.

London sighed. “I’ve found trying to answer questions like that when Bennett’s involved only ends up giving me headaches. It’s easier to just let him lead and question everything later.”

“We could just leave?” Mare insisted as Charlie and Bennett plastered themselves against the metal garage door, only poking the tops of their head around the side of the garage to peek at Nick strolling up the walkway toward the house.

“With what car?” I asked pointedly, and her shoulders deflated.

Eva grinned at her. “It’s fine. I think you’ll like Angela.”

Mare looked doubtful, but when Eva grabbed her hand and dragged her to hide in some of the dying bushes along the front of the house which would still give them a decent enough view of the porch, Mare’s reluctance seemed to disappear. The girl made of monsters stared down at their locked hands and fucking swooned.

“Come on,” London said, rolling his eyes and following after Eva and Mare. We squatted down beside them, and Bennett threw us a thumbs up just as Nick reached the front door.

This night really had gone off the rails.

Bennett winked at me as Nick reached up to ring the doorbell. In the next moment, he morphed into Tripp, a Super with super speed, just as Nick rang the bell. In a flash, he raced toward Nick.

Everything happened so fast that it took my brain several seconds to process what I was seeing.

Bennett was now back by the garage as if he’d never left, a giddy grin spreading his lips. Nick, who’d been in the process of turning around to run after ringing the doorbell, was now tripping down the front porch, heading face first toward the ground. It wasn’t hard to realize why he’d tripped. His pants and boxers were pulled down to his ankles.

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