“Right, obviously,” Phantom said, likely not knowing the difference between foundation for a building and foundation for a face.
“There’s some wigs in that box over there. Then, once we’re all in our doll forms, we play actual Twister. Sounds fun, right? And don’t worry, no one has to tuck tonight.” Bang Bang looked around the room like an eager puppy waiting for a peanut-butter-filled treat.
“Tucking? What’s that?” Phantom asked.
“It’s when you turn your downstairs into an invisible upstairs,” Mustang said, smirking.
“That’s… actually a pretty good description,” Bang Bang said. His hands went to the zipper on his shorts. “I can demonstrate if you—”
“No need, no need,” Phantom said with a chuckle. “I think I got it.”
“Good deal,” Bang Bang said. He set down the two boxes, opening up the larger one to reveal a well-organized display of different makeup products.
“Sounds like a blast,” Wyatt said, clapping as he stood up. “I call the blonde wigs. I think that’ll look better on my skin.”
The rest of the crew devolved into laughter and chatter as they scattered into partners and plotted out their makeup plans. Roman and Wyatt paired off, starting the game off by having to paint each other’s faces with their feet.
Needless to say, none of them came out looking their best that night, but they also ended up having one of their best nights ever, the bond between the Rainbow’s Seven cementing even further under a haze of terrible makeup applications and shake-and-go wigs that made them all look like they’d robbed a Party City.
Things are going to be alright.
Roman thought as the night wound down, the crew beginning to stretch and yawn. He had an unshakeable confidence that the rest of their road would be smooth.
Unfortunately, for Roman, confidence didn’t equate to fortune-telling.
Roman decided to spend the night in his condo, not far from the aquarium but slightly more comfortable for him. He was back in his bedroom, having washed off the makeup and changed into a pair of boxers, ready to climb into bed and get the next day started. Tomorrow would bring them either wild success or devastating failure; Roman understood there wasn’t an in-between. If everything went according to plan, then the seven of them would be some of the richest people on the planet by nightfall, able to go anywhere and do anything. Like plugging in a cheat code and coming up with unlimited funds.
And it wasn’t all about Roman’s bank account, either. He was already set, with a big enough cushion to last him a couple of years of rainy days. But he knew that each one of the Rainbow’s Seven needed that money for different reasons—that was what drove him forward. Yes, never having to work another job again was a great motivator, but providing for his crew just hit different.
Roman got into bed, dimming the lights and sitting back on the cushioned headboard, arms behind his head. Miami Beach glittered and twinkled to his right, through the floor-to-ceiling windows that turned his bedroom into a gallery.
He looked toward the bathroom, where the sound of the shower turned to a trickle. Yes, he was excited about tomorrow, but there was still the matter of tonight and the fact that a freshly washed and smiling Wyatt just stepped out of his bathroom, towel wrapped loosely around his hips, a happy trail of light brown hair leading down toward a bulge in the towel.
“God, that rainfall showerhead should be illegal. I don’t know why, but it should. It’s just too perfect.”
Roman laughed, drinking Wyatt’s lithe body up like a glass of only the finest whiskey. The soft orange light painted him in pure gold, highlighting the dip of his chest, the curve of his hips, the pebbled buds on his chest.
“Is that why you were in there for ten hours?” Roman teased.
“I was not.”
“Sorry, eleven.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Wyatt said with a chuckle as he went over to the pair of shorts he’d left out.
“Hold up,” Roman said. “Leave those there.”
“But I didn’t bring any pajamas.”
“And?”
Wyatt must have picked up on the hungry glare reflected in Roman’s light green eyes. The bulge in the towel twitched. He grabbed the bundled-up edge and untied it, turning as he took it off, revealing the most perfect bubble butt Roman had ever laid eyes on. Round and firm and mouthwateringly thick. Roman felt like he could never get tired of that view. It was a view that even won over the inky expanse of stars that stretched out over the ocean, a distant cluster of storm clouds lighting up the sky with bright and persistent flashes of lightning.
“Get over here,” Roman said, deciding he wasn’t going to be the only one wearing clothes. He pulled off his boxers and dropped them on the floor. Wyatt’s eyes fell to Roman’s growing cock, already thick against his thigh. “We’ve got a lot to get done tonight.”