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Lorenzo raises the partition of the Escalade before I even unzip the garment bag, closing me off in the back.
“You sure you don’t want to head home first to change, Mrs. Sartorre?” He asks through the intercom.
“Nah, I don’t want to be late,” I grunt as I kick off my boots and start shimmying out of my black jeans. “You know how the tyrant gets.”
Lorenzo chuckles from his side of the partition as I shrug off my cardigan.
“And, Lorenzo, for real, when are we gonna switch to just Tempest?”
“Mrs. Sartorre works just fine for me, ma’am.”
I roll my eyes as I peel the rest of my clothes off, blushing at being nude in the back of a moving car, even if the partition is up and the windows are movie-star tinted.
“Ma’am? Fucking seriously?”
I yank open the garment bag and grin as heat teases up my neck.
My husband hasfantastictaste in fashion, I have to say. The dress is gold and slinky, with barely a single thread looping around the back of the neck to keep the whole thing from sliding off. Which wouldn’t make that much difference if we’re being honest, given that the whole dress is half-see-through.
Which, I suppose, is why it’s hanging alongside a pair ofveryracy black lace lingerie meant to be worn under it. The bag also contains a pair of knee-high, lace-up black boots.
He knows me so well.
“How about by summer, Lorenzo? Can we shoot for that for going to a first name basis?”
“Afraid not, Mrs. Sartorre.”
I roll my eyes, sighing as I slip the lingerie on and the slinky gown.
“It would be agreatChristmas present.”
There’s a pause from the front seat.
“That’s a maybe!” I crow, howling with laughter.
I lace up both heeled boots and then reach into the depths of the garment bag for the final touch, just as the car stops.
“We’re here…” Lorenzo coughs brusquely. “Miss.”
Hey, it’s a start.
I pull on my gold and black mask and step out of the car.
“Don’t wait up!”
Outside the SUV, I feel my pulse quicken and my core tighten as I look up at the unassuming building with the unassuming dark wood door.
The doorbell is silent out here, along with the rest of the quiet, unassuming side street I’m standing on as a fine mist begins to rain down.
The door opens, and as I step into the dim interior, I shiver as a tall, built man with broad shoulders filling out a shut-up-and-fuck-me tuxedo steps in front of me. His piercing blue eyes eviscerate me, like he’s stripping the lace from my body. His chiseled jaw grinds, like he’s determining my fate here and now.
He reaches for me, and I feel a pulse throb deep inside of me as his powerful hand grabs my hip possessively and pulls me into him, enveloping me in his clean, slightly spicy scent.
“You know my husband would kill a man for touching me like this.”
“Would he?” The man growls, his teeth flashing as he leans in close to me. “Well, I like him already.”
“I’m pretty sweet on him myself.”
