The roads are kind to me, and I make it across town in good time, arriving, as planned, ten minutes early to pick up Lainey. I want to go to her door and escort her down to my car, like a true gent. Tucking the small gift box in my inside pocket, I push the buzzer for apartment number eight. I hear the locks of the door release immediately, with no word through the intercom from Lainey to check that it’s me. I think nothing of it and let myself in, heading up the stairs. I tap lightly on her door and stand back, having a quick brush down of my suit, before clearing my throat and standing tall and straight. But I won’t lie, I have a few flutters going on in my stomach. And my heart is pulsing a little with anticipation to see her. The effect she has on me is a weird mix of puzzling and exciting.
The door swings open, and the first thing I see is Lainey. In her underwear. Gorgeous cream lacy stuff. I step back, eyes glued to her chest, and try my hardest not to swallow my tongue. Good Lord above.
“Wow,” she breathes, taking the words right out of my mouth, pulling my eyes up her body to her face. It’s as flawless as the rest of her, with minimal makeup, and her eyes are popping madly, her lips full and glossy. “You look heavenly,” she sighs.
Me? I look heavenly? Has she seen herself? I’m so awestruck, I lose all concept of time and why I’m here, as I stare at her delighted face while she drinks me in. She’s stripping me of my designer suit with her eyes.
“You’d better come in,” she says, wandering off down the corridor. “I’m having a wardrobe crisis.”
Her arse. Peachy, perfect globes that need my teeth sinking into them. I reach up to the doorframe for support as my gaze travels down the hallway with her arse. If I step foot over the threshold of her apartment with Lainey inside looking like that, we’ll never make it to the wedding. My dick is shouting behind my trousers, demanding I put it inside her right this minute. “I’ll just wait here,” I call as she disappears into her bedroom. I’m taking the safest option. I can’t trust myself.
“No, I need your help.” She appears again and ushers me with panicked hands. “Please.”
In her bedroom? What’s she trying to do to me? “Lainey, honestly, putting myself in the vicinity of a bed right now would be very stupid.” Or in front of a door, a wall, a table, a counter top . . . any fucking place. Jesus Christ, I need to get out of here before my perfectly pressed suit gets cast aside and trampled all over the floor. “I’m going to wait in the car.” Before I can think to step away, she’s marching down the hallway, paining me further. Her boobs are bouncing beneath the cream lace, and it’s all I can do not to cup my groin to dull the pulse there.
“You’ll just have to resist me,” she declares, taking my hand and tugging me along to her bedroom.
“That’s an unfair expectation.” I don’t put up much of a fight as I stumble along behind her, scowling at the bed when I’m pulled into her room.
“Be strong, Tyler.” She drops my hand and moves toward her wardrobe. “This or this?” She gestures to something behind her. I don’t know what, because my eyes refuse to leave her breasts. “Ty?”
“What?”
“Which one?”
I look past her and see two dresses hanging on the door of the wardrobe. I cock my head, scanning the material of each. Both are lovely, one gold, shimmery and short, and the other cream, fitted and very short. “The cream one.” I nod my approval.
“Really?” She looks at my choice, frowning. “But it’s cream.”
“And?”
“And we’re going to a wedding.”
“And?”
She sighs and snatches down the gold dress. “You’re a fat lot of help.”
“What?” I ask incredulously. “I just told you which one I prefer.”
“Tell me why you prefer it.”
“No,” I answer quickly, watching as she shimmies into the gold material. My cock is growing by the second. “Where’s the zip on that thing?” I’m planning the latter part of my day with Lainey. The best part. The part when I get to strip her down and eat her alive.
“Here.” She turns away from me and points to the back. “Will you help me?”
“Really, Lainey?” I sigh, my head dropping on my neck. She’s doing this on purpose.
“Really.” She looks over her shoulder to me, a small coy smile pulling at her lips. Yes, she’s definitely doing this on purpose. I wouldn’t hold it against her . . . if we didn’t need to be somewhere. It crosses my mind, for a split second, to ditch the wedding . . . and my suit . . . and Lainey’s dress. And then my mother’s disappointed face crosses my mind, pulling my wayward thoughts back into line. “Hurry, or we’ll be late,” Lainey whispers, her chin resting on her shoulder as she gazes back at me.