satin
number clings to every inch of me until it fans out at my hips. The red skirt,
covered in black skulls flares out, puffed out with layers of fluffy black tulle.
Opening
the curtain, I am met instantly by Trey. “Put these on,” he says, placing a
pair of black Christian Louboutin’s, covered in silver spikes, on the carpet in
front of me.
“You’re
the boss.”
Slipping
my feet into the shoes, I make my way down the red carpet, heading for the lit
up mirrors. “Move those hips, and ass, girl. “Yessssss!” Trey shouts, like he
is head cheerleader at the Super Bowl. “Work that mirror like it’s gonna buy
you dinner!” Trey shouts, making me jump.
My
eyes snap straight ahead, taking in my reflection. With each step, my smile
grows. The dress moves with me, the skirt swishing with each sway of my hips.
“Wow,” I breathe, turning to take it in from every angle.
“And
then some,” Trey says, dropping to his knees and fluffing out the bottom of the
skirt. His eyes meet mine in the mirror. Springing to his feet again, he
gathers my hair in his hands and holds it up off my neck. “Flawless. Oh girl,
you’re a dime. A perfect ten.”
“You
think so?” I ask, but whether Trey answers me or not, I couldn’t say.
My
eyes wander down the mirror, landing on Dominick’s reflection. Leaning against
the wall beside the gold chaise lounge, his eyes are locked on me. His chest
rises and falls, calmly, but the look in his eyes is anything but. The hunger in
his eyes as he watches me has butterflies flapping in my stomach. A feeling
that I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Not
since I was seventeen.
I
am far from innocent, and it’s no secret that I have had my fair share of
sexual exploits, but that’s where it always ended. Fuck, get off, part ways.
The system is simple and yet it has been effective. No one has ever made me
feel the way Dominick ever did. I made sure of that.
All
these years, it has been easier to hate him. I balled up all the hurt and pain,
locked it in a box, refusing to let it out. Sadly, it seems, being this close
to him has made it harder to keep that box safely latched. If only getting him
out was as easy as letting him in had been. I wish he was capable of feeling
even a fraction of how much he hurt me, or could see any of the damage he had
caused.
Instead,
I’m sure he’d dismiss it now, just as he did then.
His
mouth opens just enough for his tongue peek out and run across his lips. Lips
that I know feel shockingly sweet and soft across my skin. I have dreamt of
that mouth more times that I care to admit. Even now, I can’t escape the
memories of how I felt the first time he kissed me.
However,
nothing is sweet about the way he is currently staring down every inch of me
like a ravenous predator.
Squaring
my shoulders, I shake off the butterflies and memories. Smiling at Trey, I nod.
“I guess this one is a yes.” Turning, I head back for the dressing room to
change into another of the outfits he picked for me. Slipping out of the dress
and placing it back on the hanger, I remind myself that Dominick Bradford
doesn’t exist to me. Mack is just a man doing his job.
Nothing
more.
Digging
through the items hanging in front of me, I smile at the jet-black fabric on
the hanger. Slippng it over my head, I pull it down my body. Closing my eyes, I
take a breath to get myself together and step out.
A
growl that I know has to have come from Dominick has my eyes flying open. I
stumble in my heels, shuddering at the animalistic noise. Luckily, Trey is right
there, grabbing my arm to steady me. My focus goes to the mirror, and I nearly
stop breathing. The tight, black mini dress barely covers my ass and fits like
a glove. An oval cut out on each hip shows off the music note tattoos I got on
my eighteenth birthday.
“Not
happening,” Dominick says, clearing his throat.
Meeting
his eyes, I bat my lashes innocently. “You don’t like this one, huh?”
He
shakes his head.
number clings to every inch of me until it fans out at my hips. The red skirt,
covered in black skulls flares out, puffed out with layers of fluffy black tulle.
Opening
the curtain, I am met instantly by Trey. “Put these on,” he says, placing a
pair of black Christian Louboutin’s, covered in silver spikes, on the carpet in
front of me.
“You’re
the boss.”
Slipping
my feet into the shoes, I make my way down the red carpet, heading for the lit
up mirrors. “Move those hips, and ass, girl. “Yessssss!” Trey shouts, like he
is head cheerleader at the Super Bowl. “Work that mirror like it’s gonna buy
you dinner!” Trey shouts, making me jump.
My
eyes snap straight ahead, taking in my reflection. With each step, my smile
grows. The dress moves with me, the skirt swishing with each sway of my hips.
“Wow,” I breathe, turning to take it in from every angle.
“And
then some,” Trey says, dropping to his knees and fluffing out the bottom of the
skirt. His eyes meet mine in the mirror. Springing to his feet again, he
gathers my hair in his hands and holds it up off my neck. “Flawless. Oh girl,
you’re a dime. A perfect ten.”
“You
think so?” I ask, but whether Trey answers me or not, I couldn’t say.
My
eyes wander down the mirror, landing on Dominick’s reflection. Leaning against
the wall beside the gold chaise lounge, his eyes are locked on me. His chest
rises and falls, calmly, but the look in his eyes is anything but. The hunger in
his eyes as he watches me has butterflies flapping in my stomach. A feeling
that I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Not
since I was seventeen.
I
am far from innocent, and it’s no secret that I have had my fair share of
sexual exploits, but that’s where it always ended. Fuck, get off, part ways.
The system is simple and yet it has been effective. No one has ever made me
feel the way Dominick ever did. I made sure of that.
All
these years, it has been easier to hate him. I balled up all the hurt and pain,
locked it in a box, refusing to let it out. Sadly, it seems, being this close
to him has made it harder to keep that box safely latched. If only getting him
out was as easy as letting him in had been. I wish he was capable of feeling
even a fraction of how much he hurt me, or could see any of the damage he had
caused.
Instead,
I’m sure he’d dismiss it now, just as he did then.
His
mouth opens just enough for his tongue peek out and run across his lips. Lips
that I know feel shockingly sweet and soft across my skin. I have dreamt of
that mouth more times that I care to admit. Even now, I can’t escape the
memories of how I felt the first time he kissed me.
However,
nothing is sweet about the way he is currently staring down every inch of me
like a ravenous predator.
Squaring
my shoulders, I shake off the butterflies and memories. Smiling at Trey, I nod.
“I guess this one is a yes.” Turning, I head back for the dressing room to
change into another of the outfits he picked for me. Slipping out of the dress
and placing it back on the hanger, I remind myself that Dominick Bradford
doesn’t exist to me. Mack is just a man doing his job.
Nothing
more.
Digging
through the items hanging in front of me, I smile at the jet-black fabric on
the hanger. Slippng it over my head, I pull it down my body. Closing my eyes, I
take a breath to get myself together and step out.
A
growl that I know has to have come from Dominick has my eyes flying open. I
stumble in my heels, shuddering at the animalistic noise. Luckily, Trey is right
there, grabbing my arm to steady me. My focus goes to the mirror, and I nearly
stop breathing. The tight, black mini dress barely covers my ass and fits like
a glove. An oval cut out on each hip shows off the music note tattoos I got on
my eighteenth birthday.
“Not
happening,” Dominick says, clearing his throat.
Meeting
his eyes, I bat my lashes innocently. “You don’t like this one, huh?”
He
shakes his head.
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