AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Kate
Brandi sprays the back of my head with another round of hair spray. “That ought to do it!”
Sitting in the desk chair of my and Damon’s room, I pat the low bun at the nape of my neck, which is surrounded by a single braid. “Think it stands a chance against the humidity?”
“Probably not. But thankfully, we’ll be inside a yacht. And once we’re tipsy enough to be on the outside of the yacht, we won’t give a shit about what our hair looks like.”
Can’t argue with that logic.
Brandi is undeniably stunning in an emerald green gown that’s just long enough to cover her sparkly silver heels. Small silk cuffs fit loosely across her shoulders, and the cut over her chest accentuates her ample cleavage perfectly.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her thoughtfully.
“Me, what about you?” She yanks me out of the chair and up on my feet. “The black dress, the shoes, thecape. Those boys aren’t going to know what hit ’em.”
I peer behind my back at the sheer black cape fastened to the top of each shoulder. It cascades down past my hips, creating a flowing train that lightly sweeps the floor. The dress itself stops midway down my thighs, showing off the strappy black heels that tie halfway up my calves.
“Are you positive I don’t look like I’m going to a funeral?”
Brandi takes my fussing hands in hers, preventing me from doing one more wrinkle sweep. “Trust me. I’d be shocked if Patrick Vance isn’t fawning over you all night long.”
“Right. The CEO I’m supposed to be impressing.”
A frown pulls at my berry-colored lips.
“Don’t be nervous. We’re going to have a great time,” Brandi assures me.
But I’m not nervous to meet Damon’s bosses. I’m nervous to miss the mark.
He doesn’t just need a date. He needs a woman on his arm with class. Someone he can tote around like a special ornament for things like fancy yacht dinners. But none of them realize that I’ve been born and bred to be this particular type of female—and though Idespiseit, Damon is depending on tonight to better his career, and I don’t want to fail.
A knock sounds on the door. Damon and Chuck were told to come get us at six o’clock on the dot, and they’re right on time.
The lock outside the door beeps before the pair enters the room.
My heart beats erratically, but not from nerves.
Chuck whistles low, turning eyes straight to his lady before smiling at me. “You two certainly clean up nice.”
Brandi smacks his arm, and he grabs for her. They collide in a tangle of kisses and groping limbs, and I laugh when Damon skirts around them.
I check him out top to bottom, wishing I didn’t adore the way his eyes suddenly spark to life or the tilting corner of his sensual mouth.
He kissed me yesterday. Planted a big, fat complication right on my mouth, and at first, I was too shocked to move.
But then he waskissingme.
Not the kind of sloppy, inexperienced kiss I received from Thad my very first time, but the kind that demanded. The kind that gave as much as it took, without abandon, and guided me with it until I was feeding from every breath and stroke.
“Hi,” Damon says.
“Hi, yourself.”
Damon’s maroon dress shirt, paired with black dress pants and black shoes, taunts me by accentuating his traps and biceps—my favorite muscle groups. A pair of gray suspenders stretch across his broad shoulders, and never in my whole life would I have thought them to be sexy until now.
I home in on his exposed forearms, thanking the island for the warmer weather tonight before reaching up and straightening the black bow tie at the base of his neck.
