Chapter 8
On cue, the rich, deep voice of Pavarotti floated across the breeze, and color burst from the rooftop of the Washington State Convention Center in long, flowing silk streamers of ribbon that seemed to reach the sun. Seven released him from his boxer briefs, finding him already hard and ready.
“What the—”
Lowering to her knees, she slid her fingers down his length and gently cupped his balls.
He sucked in a breath. “Sevannah.”
“Enjoy the show.”
Streaming colors in every shade of the rainbow exploded from the adjacent rooftop to the dips and swells of Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma in an impressive ribbon show she was sure he’d never seen the likes of before. The effect was nothing short of brilliant. Like fireworks against the backdrop of blue skies, vivid colors sparkled like dia
