It looks like that’s James’s plan for tonight’s grand finale. “You’re kidding. You want me to wear this?”

“It’s either that, or you go into it without getting stretched. It’s up to you.” Nix then adds something else: a bottle of what is clearly labeled Personal Lubricant. This just gets better and better.

“We really are trying to help you,” Colt tells me. “You can either be stubborn and refuse it, or you can be smart and help yourself out a little bit. Your choice.”

I can’t believe this. I honestly can’t.

“Don’t be so nervous.” Nix waves a hand, motioning for me to get up. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.” He smirks when I gasp in a mixture of surprise and horror. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s either this or letting them hurt me later. When I think of it that way, there really isn’t much of a choice to be made, is there? I doubt this will be very comfortable, but the discomfort of having my ass taken when I’m not ready for it would be an awful lot worse.

Still, I let out a heavy sigh as I stand, taking my time unzipping my jeans and pulling them down.

“Now, it’s important that you try to relax,” Nix informs me as he pushes me down until I’m bent over the table. I hear something squirting and know it’s the lube. At least they thought of this much. Not that I’m about to thank them, but it’s still better than hurting me.

“Okay, now. Breathe out.”

I do, but a moment later, the sense of almost unbearable pressure at my back door makes me tense up.

“Relax,” he reminds me, his voice low but firm. “This is a lot easier if you don’t tense up.” I almost want to ask how he would know, but I’m not sure I want the answer.

Finally, it’s in place, and it’s about the strangest feeling I’ve ever experienced. I’m so full and stretched. It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t feel great, either. “And you want me to wear this all day?”

“You’ll be fine; just take it easy. Get some rest or whatever for your situation.” Nix waves a hand over his lower abdomen while grimacing. They’re like a couple of cavemen, honestly.

All I have to do is make it up the stairs when it feels like this damn plug is going to fall out of my ass at any time. But it doesn’t, staying firmly in place as I crawl back into bed and curl into a ball, wishing I could go to sleep and wake up and have it be tomorrow already. That the whole nightmare in front of me would already be over, and I could move on.

* * *