Dirty Devil by Melissa Ivers EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Melissa Ivers
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
What in the fresh hell is this?
I mean seriously.
What. The. Bloody. Fuck?
This has to be someone’s idea of a joke. A really fucking bad one.
Surely no one actually expects me to wear this… Right? Maybe the real
costume is somewhere underneath what looks like tiny blue sailor shorts.
Nope.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zilch.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, they are, in fact, tiny blue sailor
shorts; a perfect match to the navy shirt with white stripes around the edges,
and a red ascot hanging around the neck.
There’s even a white sailor hat with the word ‘Ahoy’ embroidered on the
front that I can’t seem to look away from.
Trust me, I’m trying to look anywhere else, but my eyes keep coming
back to it.
Who voluntarily wears something like this?
I can’t even imagine getting paid to put this on for a photo shoot.
And there’s nothing else under this… this… atrocity.
I’ve looked three times.
Okay, seriously, one of these fuckers is messing with me, because I know
for a fact I was not in charge of ordering the costumes.
However, I was drinking when we picked our outfits for this charity thing
tonight, but there’s no way I was that wasted. I remember looking online at a
few different sites, but I don’t remember looking at anything that even
remotely resembles…
Shit.
I’m not even sure what this is.
A boat captain with terrible fashion sense?
A navy guy who likes to make people uncomfortable with all the leg he
shows?
Is there a bloke who dressed like this in the Village People?
I distinctly remember telling the guys to get me something manly.
This is not manly.
Those motherfuckers.
They’re dead. They’re deader than dead.
But before I can rip up the small shorts and set them on fire, there’s a
knock at my door.
It had better be someone with a more suitable option for tonight, because
there is no bloody way in hell I’m wearing this.
Especially the Ahoy hat.
With a grunt, I shove the shorts back in the box, tuck it under my
arm, and get up to open the door.
As soon as I crack the damn thing an inch, my teammates, the Bruiser
Brothers, the best defensemen in the Nashville Devils, and possibly in the top
ten of the NHL, barrel past me. They’re tall, broad-shouldered Neanderthals,
and their bulky frames nearly knock me on my ass as they charge through the
door. I scowl as soon as I see what they’re wearing.
They’re both dressed in black suits with a skeleton pattern on the front,
white skull face paint, and a black top hat. They look similar enough in
normal clothes—same light brown hair and dark blue eyes—but with the face
paint on and the same outfit, they look damn near identical.
And Owen even has a gray marbled cane with a skull on top. I know it’s
him because he’s the more dramatic one.
I can already feel my blood pressure rising.
“How the fuck do you two have cool costumes?” I gesture between them,
barely holding back a growl.
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