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I stand up. “I hate it when you’re right.”
She smiles. “There’s a blue dress over there you should consider.”
I go to where she’s pointing and pull it off the rack. She’s right. I should consider it. Skin-tight, knee-length, royal-blue lace, long sleeves. It’s a perfect dress. Perfect to be peeled off prior to sex. Or cuddles, I add, reminding myself what this means.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “No looking at the price tag.”
I check the label and, seeing that it’s my size, take it to the register. I hand it and the card over before she can tell me the price and leave like my ass is on fire.
Outside, I take a deep breath. Holy. I just spent a ridiculous amount of money on a dress from a card that doesn’t even have my name on it.
“Well, that was like watching a cow try to fit in at high school prom,” Dayton quips, taking my elbow and guiding me three stores down.
Manolo Blahnik. Oh. Okay. This I can get on board with a little better.
We try on almost every pair in our sizes before I settle on a simple black pair of heeled pumps with glitter ankle straps. Then I grab my phone and dial Tyler’s number.
“Is my card still in one piece?”
“Yes.” Bastard. “I admit, your faith in me is overwhelming.”
“Your temper is awful when you’re offended. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the blue underwear incident.”
“That was unexpected. So was this, but whatever. You are aware this breaks the rules, aren’t you?”
He laughs. “Baby girl, we’ve already broken every rule we ever had. This is the most unconventional sex-only relationship in the history of the world.”
“I suppose.”
“So, did you buy anything?”
“Surprises are fun, aren’t they?” I smile. “Hey, when did you want to do that shoot?”
“So you bought lingerie,” he hums appreciatively. “How about you bring your sexy little arse back to the hotel room and we’ll get started?”
My lips curve. “Don’t wear tight pants. It could be uncomfortable for you, honey.”
“Wear pants? Who said I’d be wearing pants?”
Dayton helps me change in the car. Or rather, she holds her coat between us while I do. Given Tyler’s reaction the last time I showed up without clothes on, I’m ready to take it a step further.
I’m going to make sure this shoot is nothing but pure torture for him.
I shove my clothes in one of my bags and wrestle myself into my coat. The bones of the light-pink corset dig in as I contort my body to maneuver myself into the thick fabric of my coat. One of the straps clipped to the top of one of my stockings comes undone, and Dayton reaches over and redoes it.
“Here,” she says. “Do this and they’ll stay on. Trick of the trade.” She does some odd fabric thing I’ll never remember and orders me to turn over so she can do the back ones. I let her do it.
“Thanks.” I throw her a smile as we pull up outside the hotel.
“Have fun.” She grins and waves as she drives away.
Okay. Bathroom.
I enter the hotel lobby and detour to the restrooms to the right. I tug my makeup from my purse and do a quick touch-up, making sure I don’t have stray mascara or bronzer anywhere. Satisfied with my quickie job, I run a brush through my hair and fluff it.
I leave the bathroom and head toward the elevator, excitement filling me. So I’m thinking of the last time we had a shoot like this. The time we met for the second time. I remember it so well—the shock, the need to run, the necessity to stay.
I never could have guessed that it would take us here. I never could have wanted to guess it.
