“Jesus, you’re so crass. Just hurry up, will you?” I lift my butt and put it back down. I pull my t-shirt down to gain some modicum of modesty. Gretchen smacks my hands away.
I hear the front door to our condo open and close. Morganna’s working voice echoes down the hallway. “Stay still. I’m going to rip this last one off. It’s on the side so it’s going to hurt,” Gretchen warns. I throw my arms over my face, completely embarrassed, and brace for the pain.
“This is the beginning of a horrible porno,” Morganna drawls from the doorway. I groan.
“It was her idea!” I bark out, my eyes still closed.
Gretchen rips the last of the wax off. The screaming pain rips down my leg and then all the way up to my head.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” I grab my throbbing crotch and pull my shirt down to cover it before I sit up on the table. Morganna, dressed like a nun, is stifling a giggle. Morg isn’t the giggling type, so that says a lot about this situation. Gretchen is just staring at me with huge eyes, like she’s waiting for me to swing a baseball bat in her direction.
“Assholes! Everyone is assholes,” I say, dashing for my bedroom. One look at my landing strip and I know that I need to turn on the hazard lights to ward off airplanes from landing in this airport. I am so pissed off at Gretchen and myself for agreeing to her absurd plan.
I pull the sexy lingerie out of my over night bag and stuff a silky pajama top in its place. My plans are completely ruined. My crotch is throbbing with an unwelcome sensation. I’m not sure I can even dance, or walk in high heels without looking like I have a stick up my ass.
“God dammit, Gretchen!” I yell. She told me she knows how to do this. The only reason I let her do it was because I’m so worried about everything being perfect tonight. Sex with Maverick has been on my mind constantly since, well, since the first day I laid eyes on him. Now, it’s different. I can tell he has feelings for me, I also know he’s fighting them off. It’s the only reason I can come up with for a straight man to hold out on sex for so long. He wants me. I’ve ruined the damned night. I’ve ruined everything.
As I shimmy into the red, sequined mini dress, I vow not to let a burning crotch ruin his night. I will power through this like a Navy SEAL. I will not complain or whine. I won’t even beat the shit out of Gretchen for it. Right now, at least. I also realize I cannot wear underwear. It adds to my devil appeal. Right? Completing my look is a pair of devil horns and red lipstick.
Gretchen is nowhere in sight when I exit my room and find the sexiest man alive sitting on my couch. He looks out of place in a setting so plain, mundane. It’s like even my subconscious knows he should be doing something more manly, more dangerous, something more like…me. He’s dressed from head to toe in white. Both dimples are out as his gaze travels over my body. He stalks over to me in only a few strides. I wince a little when he picks me up and places a dry kiss on my lips. He sets me back down, letting my body slide down his. No panties. I have to remind myself, before I unwillingly give the world a peep show.
“I went for a pure look. To balance you out,” he rasps in my ear. Goosebumps break out all over my body. I feel another kiss on my neck. He backs away, holding my hand, to better appraise me. I laugh.
“You are far from pure, T.H.”
“I like when you call me that,” he says, following me back to my bedroom. I know he’s watching my ass, so I make sure to stick it out a little further.
“Well let me get my bag so I can spend the night at your house, yelling T.H. all night long,” I say, peeking over my shoulder. He’s not looking at me, though. He’s looking at my room and my things like they are artifacts in a freaking museum. “Like my room?” I ask. He nods, runs a finger over my dresser, and then faces me.
“I like it a lot. They say a room says a lot about a person. But I’m inclined to say a dress says more about a person.”
I slip on one of my red heels. “What does this dress say about me?” I put my other foot in the shoe, and Gretchen’s hack job throbs a little. A tiny cry escapes. His eyes immediately narrow. I won’t let a little tender skin ruin my night. I smile through the pain.
He pulls me tight to his chest. “It says you want to torture me all night long,” Maverick growls. His eyes flick to my bed. “It says you don’t even want to go to the party.” He backs me up to the edge, his hands skimming the bottom of my dress. Oh God. It can’t happen right now. I need the night to recover a little. I can’t do this now. I want to, but I can’t. Gretchen made sure of that. I push back on his broad chest. He lets me. I slip past him and grab my leather overnighter off a chair.
“Actually, I do want to go to the party,” I say. He takes the bag from my hands, but looks insanely confused. It’s better than him knowing I have a second-degree burn where I want his dick. “Later though.” God, it even sounds like a lie. He catches on right away and his confusion turns into something else.
He asks me at least five times if I’m okay during the ride to the bar. I reassure him I’m just excited to see his house and for the party. He peers at me while he drives, something he never does. I realize I won’t ever be able to get anything past Maverick. He’s not calling me out on my lies, but he knows I’m dishing them out. I wonder what he thinks is going on. I know with women what we think is always way worse than what actually happens. It’s just our way. I feel guilty. My cell chimes with a text from Gretchen as we pull into the valet parking.
Ur mom called the house after you left. U need to give her ur cell #, Winnie. PS) so sorry. I hope M can still engage landing gear.
I’m surprised my mom called. She never calls anymore. I didn’t think she knew how to work a phone anymore. I thought number five did it for her. Hell, maybe he did tonight, too. I type back to her as I exit the car, feeling where every hair follicle once was.
No landing gear tonight. I can barely walk. What did Kathy want? You owe me anyway.
She was upset. U need to call her 2morrow.
Great. That sounds like a freaking nightmare. She probably drank too much and wanted to talk about how my life was turning into her poor, miserable existence. It wouldn’t be the first time. I debate texting Gretchen back, but realize Maverick is studying me. He glances at my phone. No more confusion in his eyes. He looks angry. The hairs on my neck rise at the sight of him.
“Ready to go in?” I smile and put my cell in my clutch. I’ll talk to Gretchen later. My mother…maybe never. My focus should be on the man I’m with right now. The man who looks absolutely edible. The man who I am going to have to confess Gretchen’s mortal sin to.
“Are you done with your phone?” he asks, with more irritation than I’ve ever heard from him. Maybe even a hint of sarcasm too. I just nod because we’re already in the club, and it’s loud and full of sparkles and wigs and all the crazy-ass slutty costumes that are typical on Halloween. Air conditioning blows to keep all the swaying bodies cool and a slight chill blows up my dress. It gives a little relief. I tuck my hand into Maverick’s elbow and let him lead us to the back where we have a table in the VIP section. The nun and the pope are already there. The pope has the nun pinned to the back of the booth, his hand groping her boob. I scoff.
“You are going to hell. The both of you!” I yell. Morganna looks at me, startled, but her eyes float right back to Stone and go all gooey. It’s one of the few times she doesn’t have her phone in her ear.
“Speaking of going to hell. I need to talk to you.” Maverick pulls me to the other side of the curtain to an empty booth shielded from both the dance floor and from Morganna and Stone.
He forces me against the wall just by proximity. The smell of his soap envelops me. I inhale greedily.
