Once done with the makeup, I undressed and placed my neatly folded clothes in the closet. I took my time rolling on the stockings, enjoying the feel of them on my skin. The silk was gossamer thin, with a line that ran up the back. They had a wide band of lace at the top and some type of adhesive rubber that made them stay in place. Slipping on the platform Louboutin’s, I walked into the closet to fetch the dress. The image in the tall mirror startled me. I didn’t recognize the person standing there. My legs looked shapely in the sexy stockings, my lips plump from kissing, and my eyes were full of sparkle.
A vague memory of my engagement dinner crossed my mind. I was laughing at something Aleksander had said when I caught my reflection in a mirror. The same lively anticipation stared back. The situation was entirely different back then, there was promise in the future. All I had with Sebastian was the present. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking there was any future for us––that door was firmly shut. I could play pretend for a evening, but I was not Cinderella. There would be no marriage to any prince in this story, and probably no happy ending.
The Roland Mouret dress fit as if it were made for me. It was sleeveless and fell just above my knee with an interesting pattern of folds all over, like origami. I decided to leave my hair down––I rarely did, it was too long––and parted it to the side, letting it fall over my shoulder.
I was securing one side with a pretty black comb when Sebastian walked in and came to an abrupt halt. He was so shockingly handsome that an uncontrollable smile spread across my face. Effortlessly elegant, he wore a pale grey gabardine suit with a crisp white shirt. His face was unnaturally still as we stared at each other.
“You look––” he whispered. Reaching me in two long strides, he pinned me against the full-length mirror before I could blink. “You look too good to stay home, or you’d be underneath me right now,” he mumbled between kisses that trailed down my neck. Two strokes of my bottom and his hands stilled, his eyebrow raised in question. “What’s this?”
“My underwear.” He pulled his lips between his teeth, fighting a smile.
“I’m aware of that––what I meant was, why are you wearing them?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Take them off.” I stared back, blinking. Was he serious? “Now.”
A shiver raced through me, quickly followed by blast of heat. Not accustomed to wearing such high heels, I had to grip his arm for balance while I stumbled out of my trusty underwear.
“The bra.”
“Sebastian––”
“Turn around,” he ordered, removing my bra with the dexterity of someone who was practiced at it. The memory of his hot palm remained on my skin as he zipped me back up. It was mortifying how quickly he could reduce me to a puddle of need. “Come.” Another order.
Hastily, he dragged me from the room and out of the apartment. In the elevator, he quickly enfolded me in his arms. He couldn’t keep his hands off me any more than I could resist touching him, pressing me as close as we could possibly be fully clothed. He placed kisses on my nose, my temple, my mouth between mumbled words I couldn’t discern. My desire fed off of his––just as feverish and uncontrollable.
When the elevator rang and the doors opened, we broke the kiss panting. A busty redhead stood before us staring openly, her overfilled lips pursed. She was dressed in a white, banded dress that brought her cleavage front and center. Sebastian’s expression transformed immediately. His Royal Highness was back. She stepped inside the elevator while her eyes raked up and down Sebastian’s body in flagrant appreciation. I didn’t care for it one bit. Mine. The thought came out of nowhere.
“Sebastian?” Another American.
“Lucinda.” His tone was cool, standoffish.
“You look…well.” She did nothing to mask the surprise in her voice. Her dark blue eyes immediately turned icy when her gaze settled on me.
“Never felt better. You?” he asked with no real interest, his attention still on me.
“Just got back from L.A. I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I’ve been busy,” he murmured in a blatantly lascivious tone that, I won’t lie, I was delighted to hear. The elevator reached the parking garage and the doors slid open. Sebastian threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me out. I stole a quick glance behind us, and found Lucinda slack jawed.
“Good seeing you, Lucinda. Say hi to Patrick for me.” He was a consummate actor. All the little nuances of his expressions, the ones he thought he hid so well, had become a native language to me.
“Slow down. I can’t walk in this dress.”