“You should look into driving to Tyler or something,” she said then. “They have a lot more people than we do. Or Shreveport even.”
I helped her stand back up after she was done, and then resettle her skirt.
“I applied in Tyler, Longview, Shreveport, and a few other places,” I explained. “I’m at a loss.”
She washed her hands and then turned to survey me.
“I don’t want you to go.” She frowned. “You’re my only female friend.”
I hugged her tight, and she hugged me right back.
She sighed.
“I want to take this dress off and burn it,” she finally admitted. “I’m so over it.”
“I’ll take mine off if you take yours,” I teased.
Her eyes lit up.
“Would you?” she asked, looking more eager than ever.
I frowned. “Royal, it’s your wedding. If you want to take your dress off, do it.”
She turned around and presented me with her back.
“Fuck yeah,” she said. “I don’t want to be in it anymore.”
“Do you have something to change into?” I wondered then.
“Yes,” she said almost immediately. “What I was going to wear to the airport.”
Once I had the ties down her back loosened enough for her to slip out of it, she pointed to the bag in the corner.
“Get me that,” she said. “Then go change, too.”
The idea definitely had merit.
“My bag is in my car,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “While you’re out there, go tell my husband he can change. I know that he has a change of clothes as well.”
And that was exactly what I did.
Going out to the reception hall where people were starting to gather, I looked around for Justice and found him talking to Lock.
“Is there a place I can change, too?” Lock wondered.
I nodded. “You and I can go to the groom’s changing area. I suppose you’ll be all right going to the bride’s?”
Justice grinned and hauled ass in the direction I’d just come from.
Moments later I saw him slipping into the dressing room.
“They’re about to do it,” I teased.
Lock’s eyes lit with amusement.
“Probably,” he said. “That’s likely why they put an hour between the wedding and reception.”
***
“If you don’t mind, I’ll change first. I have to take about eight thousand bobby pins from my hair, and I’ll do that while you’re changing.”
He eyed my hair.
“Why so many?” he wondered.
I shrugged. “My hair is heavy. It takes a lot more to do an updo for me than it does for every other girl. Where one girl can get away with one hair tie, I sometimes have to use three.”
He eyed my hair.
“Okay,” he said. “Use it.”
I grinned at him and headed to the bathroom, carelessly kicking the door closed behind me.
I heard the door close, but it kicked back open without my knowledge.
Which meant I had an audience as I hiked my dress up my legs and placed my foot onto the closest stool.
Skimming my hands up the dress, I clumsily unhooked the garter and the stockings from each other. Once that was done, I started on the shoe.
It was as I was starting on the second garter that I glanced in the mirror and saw Lock staring.
He wasn’t even shy about it, either.
I could make out his intense gaze through the six-inch gap in the door.
Licking my lips, I inadvertently started to draw it out, slowly skimming my fingertips down the length of my thigh.
My nipples pebbled when I saw his hand go to his crotch and readjust his cock.
I licked my lips and pushed my stocking down with slow, methodical movements, all the while keeping my eye solely on him.
Sadly, when my shoe came next, I lost his gaze because the shoes had the finest buckles that required paying attention to get them unbuckled.
When I looked up again, his gaze was no longer on mine, and I couldn’t see him through the crack in the door, either.
It was as I started to reach for the zipper of the dress that I realized I would need help to get out of the torture device.
Grinning, I walked to the door and looked out of the crack.
“Lock?”
He appeared out of the shadows.
So, he wasn’t completely not looking anymore, I just wouldn’t have been able to see him staring.
“Can you come here and unzip my dress?” I asked.
I watched him swallow hard, the bob of his Adam’s apple amusing.
“Sure,” he rasped, sounding as if he’d been asked to fuck me instead of unzipping my dress.
I smiled inwardly, loving his hesitance.
When he arrived at the door, I opened it even farther and stepped back. When he was fully standing in the door, I presented him with my back.
I felt the lightest of touches at the top of my spine, and my breath caught.
“Tiny fucking zipper,” he muttered, sounding slightly strangled.
He fumbled at it for a few moments, before I felt the zipper go down, and the dress start to gape.