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I grinned back. "Lucas Ford, you have never been humbled a day in your life. Except for maybe this morning." I started giggling. The wedding dresses were so shiny and amazing, I'd almost forgotten about this morning. Lucas Ford had been whacking off.
I'd caught a glimpse of him, and I'd been seriously impressed. Which, as one might imagine, wasn't an easy feat for a working girl. I'd thought I'd seen 'em all.
But Lucas had been large. Thick. Hard. Oh, so hard. I'd watched him stroking himself, coming, and I’d been mesmerized.
"Blake." His voice interrupted me. "You promised me you'd drop it about this morning. So stop thinking about my dick and go find a wedding dress."
I felt a blush creep up my neck. "I wasn't thinking about your dick." I leaned forward and hiss-whispered at him while Mina fluttered somewhere behind me. "But yes, sir. I'll go find a wedding dress."
He crossed his arms against his massive chest. "I told you to stop calling me 'sir.'"
He sounded as though he was going to come after me, and even though I wouldn't have minded, I hustled to the back to try on the dresses. Mina didn't need to witness our dysfunction, or whatever it was that was growing between us. An unlikely camaraderie. An uneasy alliance. And a growing lust, at least on my part.
Why did I have to see his dick? That was all I was going to be thinking about all day.
But then I went into the dressing room, and Mina handed me the first dress to try on. And like the good blonde that I was, all other thoughts vanished as I inspected the gorgeous dress. I fingered the fine, beaded material and wondered what it would be like to wear something so elegant and shiny on my wedding day.
But it was the third dress I tried on that made my heart stop: I knew it was the one when I saw it.
"That's it! That's the one," Mina said, clapping her hands together, before I'd even said a word.
I beamed at her. "I think so, too! How'd you know?"
She held the bodice of the dress tighter and turned me back toward the mirror. The long gown was covered in intricate lace that shimmered. I had to examine the dress closely to make out all of the ornate details. It was absolutely stunning.
There was a twinkle in Mina's eye. "Same way I know that man out there is the man of your dreams. And that you're the woman of his. Some things are just meant to be."
"Oh. Huh." I smoothed the dress and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "I bet you say that to all the girls," I said playfully, but my heart was suddenly racing.
"No, dear, I don't," she said. "I love it when people get divorced. Repeat business." She swooped my hair over one shoulder and adjusted the dress. "But I don't think you two will be back. Unless you do a vow renewal someday. And I have some lovely dresses for that."
"Holy guaca-guaca." Nikki pulled out a long, strapless red gown embellished by a fabric rose. "Isn't this something?" She fingered the flower with her fake nails, practically skewering it.
"It's lovely." I swallowed hard. "Could you maybe put it down?"
"Aw, Blakey, stop your worrying." Nikki snapped her gum and tossed her blond curls. "They love us in here."
The fact was Nikki was right. Lucas had arranged for three escorts—Nikki, Helena, and Christie—to meet us at the salon to pick out bridesmaids' dresses. Mina hadn't stopped smiling. Same thing with Lucas, who was tipsy from too much wine at lunch and the attention of excited escort-bridesmaids.
Nikki was the one I'd spent the most time with. She was the closest thing I had to an actual friend. She was short and curvy, with long curly blond hair and pouty lips. Helena was tall and model-thin, with cheekbones that could cut glass. Christie was in the middle height-wise, with what she referred to as an "ample bosom" and wavy chestnut hair. The four of us were considered Elena
's top escorts.
"Girls, pick out whatever you like," Lucas had said. They fussed and cooed over him, thanking him profusely and gushing about the store and the upcoming wedding.
Lucas had beamed at them. It'd been a retail rollercoaster ever since.
My coworkers were in the back, trying things on, but they kept catwalking their wares out front for Lucas to admire. Helena—who was six-feet tall with cascading raven hair and an ass you could rest a martini on without spilling it—came out in a skintight, black, strapless bridesmaid dress.
"Very nice," Lucas said, too enthusiastically for my taste. "Very nice."
A stab of something utterly foreign pierced me—jealousy. I glared at him as Helena grinned, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and sashayed back to the dressing room.
He finally noticed my glare. "What?" he asked, flushing.
"This is our wedding," I hissed. "Please stop drooling over the bridesmaids."
"I'm not drooling," he said, looking abashed. "I just like that dress."
