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Nestled in some delicate tissue paper is a set of lace lingerie in red. It’s mostly sheer, the bottoms are held together at the hips by thin straps, and the brassiere is strapless. Caleb doesn’t have any lingerie at all, and his skin goes hot knowing both Essek and Fjord likely imagined him in this.
“Wear it tonight.” Fjord’s voice warms his ear.
“You made plans?” Caleb murmurs.
Essek’s hand rests on Caleb’s elbow. “Not exactly, but we discussed what we wanted. Fjord had an idea, and … I went and picked this up.”
“You’ll run the show tonight, though,” Fjord puts in.
“We may have come up with the idea to make love to you while you’re wearing this, but we want you in charge.” Essek’s lips press to a spot behind Caleb’s ear; a simple and brief gesture, but one that leaves a burning print on Caleb’s skin.
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