He laughs. “You are to me. You’re my blue haired princess.”
I smile up at him. “You’re such a weirdo.”
“Yes, admittedly, I am. But that’s what you love about me, isn’t it?”
“It is.” I reach up for a kiss, but he presses a finger on my lips.
“Uh-uh. No kissing… remember?”
“Not even a peck?”
He laughs. “No… if those delicious lips find their way to mine, I might just lose all control, and completely ravish you right here, right now.”
Damn, he’s certainly not making this easy. I reluctantly turn from him, and slip out of the dress. I cover myself as I reach for my bra. Suddenly, I’m shy. I retrieve my dress from the floor, and put it back on. Weston is busy carefully slipping the red dress back on the mannequin.
This is not how I had envisioned the evening ending. I anticipated a few more stolen touches, a slap on the bum, perhaps a little touching. Certainly not a striptease, and the two of us pleasuring ourselves in front of each other.
He keeps surprising me. And I love that about him.
