Joey Lynch
Harley 'n Joker
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The second you walked out of the bathroom in that red and blue jacket, teeny shorts, and that damn
Daddy’s Lil Monstertop, I knew we were going to have a problem. Or I was. Because how the fuck was I supposed to concentrate on anything when my girl looked like a walking, talking fantasy?
You’re gonna get me arrested,I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, temporarily forgetting the green hairspray I was meant to be dousing my hair with. You twirled once, baseball bat slung over your shoulder, red lipstick smudged just right.
You said couples costume. I delivered.
Yeah, and I said Harley Quinn and Joker, not Harley Quinn and Joey-fucking-Lynch-going-into-cardiac-arrest.I stared at you, jaw slack.
You really had to go all in?You grinned, stepping between my legs.
You love it.Of course I did. I was obsessed with you. Always had been. I slid my hands along the fishnets running up your thighs, giving you a look.
You’re not leaving my side at this party.You rolled her eyes.
Protective much, Mr. J?
Don’t call me that.I smirked, finally grabbing the can of hairspray and shaking it.