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She went to the master bath, pinned her hair, and applied makeup from the cosmetics she kept at Jack’s apartment. She made a point not to go too heavy, all too aware that the dress had a slutty edge toit.
They can’t call us slutsanymore.
She couldn’t help it: she felt like a hooker, and not a high-priced oneeither.
“Sorry, Karen,” she murmured to the mirror. “Just calling it like I see it, not that I have a problem with sexworkers.”
When she was done with her makeup, she opened Jack’s walk-in closet and scanned the shoes she’d left there over the past few months. She reached for a pair of black flats, reasoning that they would take the sexiness of the dress down a notch, thenhesitated.
Jack obviously had something specific in mind. Did she want to tamp it down or playalong?
She lifted a pair of strappy Louboutins — bought by Jack for their trip to Split — from the floor, slipped them on, and reached for a simple black clutch on the shelf above the drawers holding Jack’s underclothes andsocks.
Jack was still in the chair when she returned to the living room, his expression placid, as if he were simply waiting for her to dress for another dinner in thecity.
He didn’t get up when she entered the room and she stood patiently as he looked her over, used to his scrutiny and the desire that flared to life between her legs as he engaged init.
Finally, he crossed the room, pausing for a long moment in front of her. Her body was clamoring for him, his scent assaulting her nose, winding its way to her throbbing sex, desperate to release the orgasm that had been lurking there for over aweek.
She closed her eyes when he reached for her, wanting to savor his touch. Instead she felt him pull the pins from her hair. It brushed her back as itfell.
He arranged it around her shoulders. “That’s better. Shall wego?”
She nodded and followed him to the door. When they got there she gave in to her self-consciousness and reached into the coat closet for a light trench coat Jack had bought her atBurberry.
She would play his game to a point, but she couldn’t bring herself to traipse through the city in full makeup, a nightgown and heels on a summer night when everyone else was wearing casual sundresses and flats orsandals.
He put his hand on the door and leaned down to speak in her ear. She braced herself for him to say something about thecoat.
He bit her ear instead, and a moan escaped her mouth, moisture rushing to her sex. “I’m going to let you come tonight, Nina. Are youready?”
