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How the hell did he…
It fits perfectly.
Even if the dress is way skimpier than anything I’ve ever worn. It shows off my shoulders above quarter sleeves, hanging from the back of my neck and dipping in the front to display my cleavage. The back is open, way lower than anything I’ve ever worn.
Not to mention the length, stopping just shy of showing my panties.
I love it, though. The way it makes me feel… sensual. Powerful.
Suddenly, I feel like I fit into the immaculate scenario around me. Fit with him.
The pristine leather of the car. The elegant event we’re heading to.
His fitted suit, jet black. His hair, styled back, trimmed on the sides, feathering back with just a flip of hair teasing the top of his forehead. Everything in black would normally seem dull, but not on him.
Everything about him is clean. Perfect. Calculated to the decimal.
Except for the two buttons left open on his shirt, allowing for it to flare open just a bit, showing off a hint of his incredibly muscled chest.
His razor sharp clavicles stand out below the column of his neck. My eyes are drawn there, to the crease where they meet, where I can imagine licking…
No, I will not lick my lips and give myself away.
No, I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me drool over him.
“All done? No tantrum?” I can hear the smug grin in his words.
“Shut up. How did you get my measurements?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time. The ladies at Rustique owed me a favor. All I had to do was get your size from a couple of the brands you wear.”
So now he’s got me running through every encounter at the office, trying to imagine when he had a chance to check my clothing tags.
He sniffs a little laugh like he can read my mind. “Geneviv has had plenty of chances to figure it out, too.”
Stupid. And obvious.
I feel like I spend most of the time around him trying to think of what he’s planning and what I'm going to say next. Trying to figure out and anticipate what he expects me to say, what to say instead, and then wondering if he anticipated what I came up with!
It’s maddening. And distracting. So much so that I don't realize that we've already parked and he's staring at me expectantly.
“We're… here.” It drops out of my mouth like a lead weight. I wish I didn’t sound so nervous.
“Yes, we're here. The way you get distracted makes me wonder how you ever got anything done in your old life. Seriously, Hellena.” Now I know he's just fucking with me, as I see that ever so slight twitching at the corner of his mouth.
It’s a tell I’m starting to recognize.
I’ve been in such a habit of letting him get a rise out of me that I almost fall for it.
Instead, I take a deep breath.
Closing my eyes for a second, I tease my lower lip with my teeth. “Evan… I was just waiting for you to tell me what to do. All you need to do is give me instructions and I’ll obey, sir…” I say it in my most sultry voice.
He swallows and takes a breath, feigning boredom. No way that actually worked on him, but stranger things have happened. Annoying him is enough of a win for me.
I let my eyes veer down to his lap where I see a hint of the shape of him. It must be my imagination that he looks tense, holding very still.
“Shall we?” I ask, smirking. He straightens in his seat slightly as we side-eye each other. Thank goodness the AC is on. That look could make me sweat through my new dress.
