Page 19 of Tinsel & Chrome

Emma nods seriously, clutching Jingle the stuffed reindeer. “And no boys on the girls’ side.”

Walker and Logan groan but don’t argue. The living room turns into a war zone of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. Titan and I stand in the doorway, watching as they all pile onto the couches and floor.

Mad Dog snorts. “This is a hostage situation. Ain’t no way Forge makes it through the night.”

Forge shakes his head, stepping inside and shutting the door with a finality that says ‘I’m too old for this shit.’

Jingle Blaze isn’t just about the party. It’s about this. The kids being safe, being happy, and knowing they’ll always have a family.

––––––––

Adulting

Grizzly

The second the last kid crashes at Forge’s place, the real party begins. The music gets louder, the whiskey starts flowing, and the sweet butts disappear—only to return looking like goddamn snacks. I take a slow sip of my drink, leaning back against the bar, watching as they weave their way through the crowd, all long legs, short skirts, and knowing smirks.

Jingle Blaze might’ve started for the kids, but the second they’re tucked in for the night, it turns into something else entirely. The sweetbutts move through the clubhouse like they own the place, laughter mixing with the low rumble of conversation.

One of them, Roxy, a redhead with curves that could bring a man to his knees, straddles Titan’s lap, running a painted nail down his chest.

“You finally done playin’ Daddy for the night?” she teases.

Titan just grunts, throwing back a shot before grabbing her hips. “Depends. You done playin’ games?”

She grins and leans in, whispering something in his ear that makes his jaw tick. Across the room, Savannah, a blonde with legs for days, drapes herself over Boone’s shoulders, pressing a bottle of whiskey to his lips.

“Drink up, Road Captain,” she purrs. “You look like you need to loosen up.”

Boone grins against the bottle, taking a long swig before pulling her into his lap. The pool table has turned into a makeshift bar, lined with empty shot glasses, beer bottles, and a questionable amount of cigars.

Mad Dog is at the center of a drinking game, slamming back shots while two sweetbutts take turns feeding him cherries from their drinks. Bishop, ever the watchful one, nurses a glass of bourbon, watching the chaos unfold with a knowing smirk.

And me? I’m taking it all in. Enjoying the show. The music shifts, something with a heavy bassline, the kind that gets inside you, makes a man think about all the bad decisions he’s about to make. The girls take that as their cue. Dancing, grinding, laughing, and teasing just enough to drive the brothers crazy.

Savannah locks eyes with me from across the room, her lips curling into a wicked little smile. I lift my drink in a lazy toast, but I don’t move. Not yet. Savannah doesn’t like to be ignored. She tosses her hair over one shoulder, gives me a look that saysget over here, then turns back to the group of sweetbutts, laughing like she ain’t got a care in the world.

I smirk into my drink, letting the burn of whiskey settle before setting the glass down with a slow, deliberate motion. The air is thick with smoke and sex, the scent of vanilla and cheap perfume mixing with the ever-present smell of leather and motor oil. Jingle Blaze after dark is exactly what it’s supposed to be—wild, reckless, indulgent.

Titan and Boone have already disappeared with their chosen entertainment for the night. Mad Dog is still at the pool table, letting one of the girls straddle him as she lines up a shot. Bishop, true to form, just watches, eyes sharp, always aware.

I push off the bar, cutting through the crowd, ignoring the hands that graze my arm, the whispers meant to catch my attention. My eyes are locked on one thing. Savannah. She sees me coming, and instead of waiting, she makes me work for it.

I watch as she sashays toward the makeshift dance floor, hips swaying, knowing full well I’m right behind her. The music pulses, heavy and slow, and she moves like she was born for this. She runs a hand through her hair, dragging her nails lightlydown her own throat, eyes locked onto mine like she’s daring me to do something about it.

I stop a few inches away, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. She tilts her chin up, looking at me through thick lashes.

“You gonna stand there all night, Grizz?” she teases, voice low, sultry.

I take my time answering, letting my gaze drag over her from head to toe. She’s all legs, a tight little dress that barely qualifies as one, and a smug smirk that says she thinks she’s in control here.

I reach out, catching her wrist, tugging her flush against me. She gasps, but her hands settle on my chest, fingers trailing down over my cut.

“I was just enjoyin’ the show,” I murmur.

Her lips part, but before she can say another word, I spin her in place, pressing her back against me. One hand settles on her hip, the other sliding up her side, fingertips grazing the curve of her ribs. She leans into me, her breath hot against my neck as she rolls her body against mine, slow and teasing. I let her have her fun. For now.

Savannah thinks she’s running the game. She’s about to find out she’s got no idea who she’s playing with. She rolls her body against mine again. I grab the back of her head and crash my lips down on hers. She moans and leans against me as I devour her mouth. My cock’s standing at attention, pressing against my zipper.

---