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“Your credit card,” Javier said, a world of sass in it.
Carter smirked. He didn’t look at me as he said, “She already has it.”
We were walking away from them a beat later when Javier took my arm with a delicate touch and said loudly, “That’s my girl.”
Both men chuckled at our retreating backs.
For some reason I wasn’t offended by the implication. The way he teased about it made it feel so unserious, and I found that empowering.
“I know you’re only eighteen,” Javier said in a casual tone as we walked, “but that man is going to marry you. It’s what you want, right?”
I blushed profusely at that, feeling unaccountably sad. “You have that all wrong. He doesn’t even want to have a relationship with me at all. I think I embarrass him. And us sleeping together . . . it was my idea. I seduced him. He still hates that he couldn’t resist me.”
Javier seemed unfazed by everything I’d said. “That man is whipped. Anything you want him to do for you, he will. If that’s not a relationship, I can’t tell you what is.”
I didn’t try to explain it to him any more than that. Instead I let myself wish for the short duration of our stroll that he was right and I was wrong, though I knew it was a delusion. Carter would do anything for me, but it was out of obligation, out of his own innate goodness, not because he was in love with me.
He was deeply in lust with me, though, and I was going to let that be enough. It was still the best thing that had ever happened to me.
The boutique Javier brought me to was intimidating, to say the least. It was small and exclusive, the walls lined with beautiful lingerie, the racks full of expensive designer clothing. The tall blond woman that approached us the second we walked into the store looked like the type that wouldn’t even let someone like me in the door.
However, she got one look at Javier and squealed with delight. “Javier! Who’s this? Where’s Bianca? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in here without her.”
“That’s because I’m her honorary stylist when she’s in town. But this week she’s in New York with James and the kids. And this is my lovely friend Nova. Nova, this delightful woman is Adele. Nova needs something gorgeous to wear on short notice. Like, we have less than an hour, and I still have to drag her to the salon for quick hair and makeup.”
Adele eyed me top to bottom but not in a bad way. It was more a pleased, measuring look. She crooked a finger at me. “Nova, we’re on too much of a time crunch to be shy with each other, so come with me.”
I followed her into the dressing room, the sound of Javier on his phone booking me last minute salon treatments echoing behind me.
“Strip,” Adele said with a smile, “I’ll be right back,” she added and left me in the dressing room.
I was down to my sports bra and panties when she strode back in with an armful of clothes.
“Can I assume you’re dressing with a particular special someone in mind?” she asked, thrusting a slinky black dress at me.
I couldn’t exactly deny it. “Yes.”
She smiled a Cheshire cat smile and handed me a hanger with almost nothing on it, just a series of small silk ribbons and three delicate, beautifully embroidered roses.
I held the two items in my hands and stared back and forth between them.
“I’ll need a real bra,” I pointed out. My breasts were too large to go without in public and not have it be obscene.
“Just put it all on,” she said without missing a beat. “You’re going to love it, I promise. You’re busty, but you’re also young and perky. The dress has built in bust support so the lingerie is all you need. While you do that I’ll go next door and grab your shoes.”
She didn’t need an answer as she was already gone before I could open my mouth. I wrapped myself into the lingerie with some difficulty but as soon as I saw my reflection in it I knew I’d be wearing it tonight.
I was almost naked in it aside from the lovely floating roses placed over my nipples and one just above my sex, not hiding it but accentuating it.
Carter was going to lose his mind when he saw it.
I pulled the little black dress on over it and fell instantly in love. Adele knew what she was doing.
It was sexy but classy, the neckline sweetheart style and not too low, but the slit in the thigh high enough to be daring. And sure enough, my chest was even supported by a hidden shelf bra in the clever getup.
The back was nearly bare, pairing perfectly with my nearly nonexistent underthings.
I didn’t look like a teenager anymore. I looked like a femme fatale seductress and I loved it.