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ISABELLA
Two Weeks Later
If my parents insisted that I attend a charity event after all they’d put me through, then I wouldn’t be showing up in a conservative dress.
After getting a fake tan at a beauty salon, Emily and I went shopping for the perfect ‘fuck you, mom and dad’ dress. It had to be the opposite of what I usually wore to these upper-class affairs: a dress and ballet flats. My dress had to scream ‘promiscuous’ and fill my parents with shame. The people they surrounded themselves with would look on in horror as I waltzed into that place like the biggest whore in Indiana.
A modern, trendy boutique caught our eyes. Inside it was filled with clothes you’d only find either on a runway for lingerie or worn by strippers: mini-dresses, halter tops, and fishnet stockings. I made a beeline for a hot pink number that was so short, it guaranteed an ass-shot whenever I bent over.
“That’s the one, Emily,” I said, chewing into my lip. “This is what I’m wearing to the Sisters of Indiana event and the last thing my parents will ever see me in.”
With precisely one left in my size, I grabbed it and headed into the dressing room. The only way it’d work was with a little readjusting in the front, lest both of my breasts popped out and gave everyone a heart attack. I wanted to put on a show, but I didn’t want to be responsible for sending some innocent bystander to the morgue.
Emily gasped when I emerged from the dressing room, my hard nipples poking through the dress. “Girl, if that isn’t the deepest cleavage I have ever seen. And you could cut glass with those nipples.”
“Think it’ll freak them out?”
Emily let out a low whistle as the store employee nodded approvingly. “Yeah, if it doesn’t, send them to the hospital first. Not that you’d care about that last part, right?”
“Please, that’d be the icing on the cake.”
I absolutely despised wearing high heels, but I wanted to give my parents the full-shock effect. I wanted them to think I was well on my way to becoming a stripper. So, I picked up a pair of shiny black platform stilettos that wrapped around my ankle along with a faux-diamond choker. When we got back to the sorority house that night, I tested out my outfit for all our sisters, and the response was just what I needed.
My parents would disown me.
I even did a little fashion show, showing them how revealing the dress was as I bent over, both in the front and back. All of them agreed that it screamed ‘promiscuous’ and was definitely not something to be worn to a charity event.
Or in front of your parents at all.
The best part, however, was that Blade would be going with me to the event. One look at The Bedroom King clutching onto their slutty daughter, and it’d be the perfect revenge for everything they’d done to me.
After Emily left for work the following day, I packed my bags and met Blade at a local park. He emerged in dark denim jeans from his red sports car, a simple black t-shirt, and light facial stubble. There was nothing simple about the way Blade’s clothes outlined his muscles, though.
I wanted to ride his cock in the car before we took off for the event. I was high on life and ready to put on a show. I feared there was slightly too much adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Holy fucking shit, Isabella. Are you sure that’s what you wanna wear?”
My heels clicked along the pavement as I walked over to him. “I sure am.”
He held my hand as we sped out of the park and onto the highway, where we made the drive to nearby Westfield.
“So, what’s on the itinerary for this weekend?”
“The charity event starts at noon and lasts until whenever. I just gotta make the rounds, kiss a few asses, and then we can spend the rest of the day alone in our hotel room.”
Blade kissed the back of my hand as his foot hit the gas pedal, eager to get the ass-kissing part out of the way. “What about tomorrow morning? Do we have a late checkout, or do we have to have brunch with your parents?”
“Fuck my parents,” I hissed. “They’d poison us both, anyways.”
Blade spent the rest of our drive with his hands between my legs, rubbing my thighs so hard that I feared there might be wet spots on my dress.
The parking lot was full of cars I’d seen dozens of times before. Doctors, lawyers, and local politicians all showed up to help the Sisters of Indiana. The entire event was a fucking sham. The only real purpose for it was for tax write-offs, even though nobody admitted to it. People like my parents got off on pretending to be great people.
I linked arms with Blade and headed towards the entrance, suddenly feeling nervous upon seeing my parents’ car. I had the entire scene played out in my head, but I froze when it came time to execute it. My father was a retired military general and played the part a little too well. Just one look from him was enough to turn me into that pathetic, former insecure mess of a girl I’d worked so hard to break free of.
I tried to walk faster, but my platform heels wouldn’t let me. I clung onto Blade’s arm as we headed towards the hotel.
He was quick to notice, too. “What’s wrong?”
