Escaping the Past

Lou shrugged. “But you have great legs.”

Liz waved her off. “We all have something we want to change. Besides, you have great legs, too.” She fished amongst the pile of clothes again and pulled out a tiny jean miniskirt. “I think this will look fabulous on you.”

“I don’t know, Liz,” Lou said, holding the miniscule piece of fabric up to her body. It fell just six inches below her crotch.

“Oh, try it on and see how it looks.”

Lou put it on and tugged the miniskirt’s hem southward but was unable to get any extra length.

“It’s not going to grow on you. I promise.” Liz picked up a modern version of a hippie tube top and handed it to Lou. It was light blue with complimentary streaks of color that danced across the fabric, completely off the shoulder. “If you wear this one, you’ll have to lose the bra.”

Lou clutched her bosom. “I can’t go out without a bra.”

“Lou,” she said gently. “You have got a rack most women would kill for. Or pay a lot of money for, like I did.”

“Your boobs aren’t real?” Lou asked incredulously.

“Nope. I was born flat as a board.”

Lou laughed out loud.

Lou put on the top and surveyed the effect in the mirror. She unhooked the bra and took it off. The gathered tube top clung to her breasts and gentle folds of fabric poured around her hips in a jagged edge. She had to admit that the effect was stunning.

She turned and faced Liz. “What do you think?”

“That’s the one,” she replied, nodding her head. “Now for the hair and makeup.” She expertly applied foundation, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, and a touch of lipstick. Liz sat her on the closed toilet lid and flipped her head upside down, drying it while she was inverted. Then she sat her up and ran her fingers through, fluffing it. She picked up a warm curling iron and rolled small ringlets of the hair around her face. Then she piled some of the hair on top of her head and secured it with a clasp. She stepped back, surveyed her work and sprayed the finished product lightly with hairspray.

Lou turned and looked into the mirror. She gasped and said, “Damn, you do good work.”

“It’s hard to mess with perfection, Lou. I just enhanced what you already have.” Lou stepped into the room and surveyed herself in the full dressing mirror on the back of her door.

“Will this get Brody’s attention? Better yet, will it keep his attention?” she muttered.

Liz heard her anyway. “Let’s go and see, shall we?” She held out a pair of thong sandals to Lou and offered her some accessories. She took the sandals and pulled them on her feet. She turned down the accessories, opting to wear the silver necklace Brody had given her instead.

The two women walked down and the stairs whispering. “Are you sure this skirt’s not too short?” Lou asked breathlessly, her heart fluttering in her chest.

“Positive,” Liz said as she pushed her through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” Brody breathed, standing when he saw her for the first time.

****

She walked through the doorway and Brody felt his pants tighten as he looked her up and down. She usually possessed such a subtle beauty that Lou all made up was somewhat shocking. He started down at her feet, appraising the leather thong sandals that fit between her perfectly manicured toes. His gaze moved up her ankles and calves, taking in her thin yet defined shin muscles. He moved past her knees to her long, firm thighs. Her tiny jean skirt barely left anything to the imagination. Yet that imagination was running wild. Damn, it was going crazy.

Silky, nearly transparent fabric floated around her hips. A tight fitting top hugged her breasts like a second skin. Her nipples tightened as his gaze ran over them. He licked his lips.

His gaze traveled up to creamy shoulders that were left bare. Her dark hair tickled those shoulders. His gaze lingered as he saw her reach up to finger the dream catcher necklace he had given her. He took in her hair, partially piled atop her head, as it touched her face. Liz had brought out the color of her eyes and made her lips look perfectly kissable. That was all he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t want to go to The Pour House. He didn’t want to be in a room with other people.

He wanted to be all alone with Lou so that he could drink in the sight of her and appreciate her in the way he wanted—completely naked.

This was a totally different side of her. Everyone knew Lou was beautiful, but you usually noticed her inner beauty first, her laughing eyes, kind nature, her quick wit. Now, all he could see were legs stretching on endlessly, heavy breasts he ached to touch, and a perfect mouth he wanted to kiss. Her hair begged to be let down from its clasp atop her head.

John finally broke the silence by stating loudly, “Well, daggum, Lou! You look purtier than I’ve ever seen you!” He walked over and picked her up, spinning her around. The skirt rose up dangerously high.

Lou scolded John, putting her hand on his shoulders and smacking at them. “Will you put me down?” she shrieked, laughing.

She stepped back and took in John’s appearance. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” John wore jeans, a button down shirt tucked into those jeans, one cowboy boot on one foot, and his cast on the other.