Page 79 of Love Thief

I slowly strut back over. “What do you think, ladies? Oh, and gents of course. Well, anyone really?” I shout to the crowd.

Xander is shaking his head, laughing at my theatrics, like he can’t quite believe the level of entertainment I’m ramping up.

From where I’m standing in front of him, I can see Becky steaming with anger beside me. I’ve stolen their thunder. Well, too bad for them, I’m just getting warmed up.

Touching his face, but looking at Kell, I grab Xan’s hair and roughly yank his head back. “Do you like that Xan?” I breathe into his ear, all the while continuing to look at Kell.

“Too fucking right,” Xan laughs.

When I let go of his hair and touch his stomach, his cock jumps in his jeans. “Easy boy, don’t peak too early,” I purr at him, smirking all the while.

Some girls behind him are calling out suggestions of what I should do to him, where to touch him. “Can I, Xan,” I ask him, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Be my guest, baby, I trust you,” he says, dropping his head backwards to give me full access.

Emboldened by his permission, I touch him everywhere they ask, none of it too X-rated, mostly for fun. I constantly keep glancing across at Kell, watching his reactions as I touch Xander. Everyone can see Kellen’s reaction, his cock is getting bigger. I smirk at them both as I undo Xan’s Jeans. There’s no doubt the level of enjoyment he’s feeling, and I step away, knowing it’s blatantly obvious to everyone surrounding us.

I flick my hair and sashay back towards my sons, who are catcalling the band fit to burn.

Kellen’s laughter rings out above the noise, halted only briefly when he shouts out to me, “Insane, Kitten. Infuckingsane. I fucking love you.”

Turning, I smile at him and blow him a kiss. A brief perusal of the crowd reveals Tim with his head in his hands, John Clayton, staring slack-jawed at me, and my boys both pissing themselves with laughter.

Jude grins and yells, “Give ‘em hell, Evie,” before gesturing at Xan and Kell, cupping his hands around his mouth, and shouting, “you pair of twats.”

Bug has Orla’s eyes covered, and I hear him tell her, “It’s fine she hasn’t killed them yet,” before he breaks down into a fit of laughter.

I step forward, confidence oozing from me, my natural self-assurance amped up to full power. I can feel the crowd and my men willing me on, so I shout out to Becky, Grace, and Lauren. “Over to you three. But let me be perfectly clear,” I point between Kell and a grinning Xan, “those two are mine.”

Channelling my brothers’, husband’s, and sons’ swagger, I saunter over to the circus ringmaster, run my hands down her whip, and say loudly enough for the crowd to hear, “Be gentle with them. I want them back in one piece.”

She looks at me and laughs. “You’re a ballsy bitch. They never said that about you.”

I turn to the three stooges, who look like they’ve been turned to stone, and say, “I’ll see you and raise you.”

I’m surprised by the genuine shock on their faces. Do they not even know me? Did they think I would curl up and die? Run along and give them what they want? Play the prude they think I am? And in this moment I realise no, they don’t know me. Not really, anyway. Not the real me. Only the version I presented to them.

I hear Kellen call out, “You’re turning me the fuck on, Evie. Whip me again, baby.”

The crowd starts to laugh and the atmosphere changes back to more banter than porn film. While James, Bucky, and Jude try to direct the ringmaster who to whip first, Tim implores her not to get their faces—they have a photo shoot in a few days—and to stay away from Levi’s back as he needs it to drum.

The poor woman has more instructions to consider than enough, and she cracks the whip to silence the list of demands coming her way. It whistles past Tim, whose mouth clamps shut, in case she decides to go for him first. She’s very accomplished. I’m impressed.

She rolls her eyes at the baying crowd, reaches into a satin bag at her side, and pulls out a beautiful bejewelled crop with a large piece of black leather on the end. It’s not much bigger than the one I hit Kellen with, before Vegas. But she wields it beautifully as she treats the boys to a bit of play.

Kell starts to complain after a few strikes from the ringmaster. “Evie, you do it, it was better, just channel your tractor-time energy, baby. Xan, turn around so she can hit you. She’s fucking amazing with it.”

Everyone is laughing at his antics. I know he’s mocking himself by putting himself on show. He’s such an exhibitionist, ramping it up, revving me up, diffusing the situation and distracting from what was really supposed to happen—this was supposed to be the three witches’ show.

“Ringmaster, give her some lessons with that big whip and I’ll buy it for her,” Kellen shouts to the blonde. “Kitten, grab it and let’s go.” The crowd is falling about laughing as the blonde comes to me.

“Seems like they underestimated you, my dear, but I haven’t. Here, let me show you.”

Deciding to take over the show again, give them all a little bit more of who they underestimated, I shout out, “Any willing victims? Oh, sorry, I meant volunteers.”

The onlookers all laugh as Xan and Kell are shouting out for it to be them, each trying to get out of their chairs first. Gabe is claiming it should be him since he brought the ringmaster in, and the four devolve into a free-for-all, trying to kick each other’s chairs and push in front of the other. It’s chaos.

The next thing I know, John Clayton runs out of the crowd and kneels down in front of me. “Do me,” he pleads, his hands clasped in front of him in a full-on beggar's stance as the crowd are now guffawing at the antics.

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