Page 16 of Hating the Boss

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Back inside.”

I laughed and did as she instructed, coming out in a form-fitting black dress that hit at my knees, but was a little more flirty in the back with a slit that ran up my thighs.

“That’s more like it!” said Brittany, nodding enthusiastically.

I did a little twirl, the champagne making my head dizzy, before I stepped back inside to try on more dresses.

I was still searching for the one.

The one that would knock the socks off of Brad Ashcroft. I knew it was ridiculously inappropriate to be dressing for him, but I wanted those gray ones on me again. I wanted to see the quick glimpse of lust I had seen yesterday. I just wanted to feel wanted. It had been a long time since I had felt that. And even when I felt it, looking back, I wondered if any of it was real.

Matt had done a real number on me.

My confidence.

I hadn’t been with anyone since him, and that had been three years ago. I had tried going on dates, but no one had made me feel like he had. Maybe my friends were right in saying he love-bombed me. That was what men like him do. They ruin anyone else for you because they made you feel so good.

And he did.

Until he didn’t.

I pushed him out of my head and grabbed a sapphire green dress from the rack. It was different than anything I owned. Its color eye-catching. I slid it over my head and reached around the back to pull up the zipper. I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror and smiled.

This was it.

The dress was structured with long sleeves that hit just below my wrists. It plunged low, revealing the inner curves of my breasts. The fabric cinched my waist before traveling down as it hugged my hips and ended at my mid-thigh. It was professional, with a hint of sexiness.

Okay, maybe more than a hint with that amount of cleavage.

I put on a pair of nude patent leather pumps with red soles that the attendant had brought in. They were the perfect finishing touch, making my legs look long for my petite frame. I sucked in a breath and stepped outside for the judging panel.

Brittany’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God.”

“Holy shit,” whispered Jessica.

“I think that means you like it,” I said, biting back a smile as I looked between them.

“I think you’re going to get pregnant in that thing!” exclaimed Brittany.

Jessica swatted at her and I laughed out loud.

“I’m getting it,” I said, turning back to the fitting room.

“Get it in every color!” Brittany called after me as she stood up and shook her butt at me. “In fact, I might go look for one in my size.”

“I’m coming with you!” said Jessica.

Brittany helped her into her wheelchair and whisked her out of the fitting room area, leaving me alone. I slipped back into the fitting room and looked at myself in the mirror. I imagined Brad seeing me in it, and my heart picked up its pace in my chest.

I ran my hand across my collarbone and down the center of my chest, my skin prickly under my soft touch. I imagined his eyes falling there. Imagined his fingers trailing against me. I sucked in a quiet breath, getting lost in the gray of his eyes, in his phantom touch.

Moving my hand down my abdomen, and further, I ran my thumb against the fabric between my legs. My back hitched slightly, lost in the daydream of being in Brad’s office as he gave in to his temptations.

Slowly.

Teasingly.

My fingers reached the hemline of my dress, and disappeared underneath, pulling the jewel-green fabric upward slightly. I stepped backward, until my back hit the mirror, spreading my legs slightly. My fingers met the mesh thong that was damp with my lust-filled thoughts. I ran my thumb across the thin fabric, feeling the slit between my lips. I imagined Brad’s long fingers exploring there, my skin tingling against the pads of his fingers.