Page 76 of Trustfall

“Promise me you won’t,” Luke says quietly. “Promise me you won’t do anything that makes you feel bad because you think I want it.”

“I promise,” I say, and I mean it.

He puts his hand on my leg and squeezes, looking over at me for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. We turn into the parking lot of the auto repair shop.

“So when is this shindig?” he asks, reaching over and clicking off my seatbelt.

“Saturday,” I say. “I know it’s not a lot of time, but I can get you a suit if you need one and?—”

“It’s okay, Em. I’ve got it covered.”

“Okay,” I say. “Dinner later?”

“Sounds good. How about my place in an hour? We can have leftovers from last night.”

“Great.” I lean over and kiss him on the cheek, but he turns and holds my jaw, deepening the kiss. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, and a dull throbbing suddenly intensifies between my legs.

He releases my mouth and rests his forehead against mine, his hand still cupping my cheek. “You’re on edge already, aren't you, baby?” he says in a low whisper, taunting me. I nod my head. “Good. Because I’m gonna tease the fuck out of you later.” He moves his head back and drops his hand to my thigh. “You’re gonna beg me so sweetly for it, but I’m not gonna give you what you want. You know why?”

“W-why?”

He moves closer, speaking directly into the shell of my ear. “Because I want you to be so desperate for it that you’re shaking and panting. Fucking aching for my cock.”

“And what if I want it right n-now?” Goosebumps erupt all over my skin as he inches his hand closer between my thighs.

“Too bad. You have to wait. Can you wait for me, Emory?” He flashes a vicious smile, his straight white teeth sparkling. “Wait like a good girl, and I’ll make it up to you later.”

With that, he pulls his hand back and nods toward the car door, signaling for me to get out. I fumble with the handle and almost trip over the edge of the car as I haul myself out.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I shout before slamming the door, but he just shakes his head and chuckles. He doesn’t back out. He idles there, watching me talk to the mechanic, pay, and get into my car. Then he follows me home.

26

EMORY

I fluffthe bottom of my floor-length white lace gown, trying to inch up the back a little so it doesn’t look like a train. You would think after years, my dad or at least one of his assistants would come up with a new theme. But no—every year, it’s the same. Black and white. With the tacit understanding that men wear black tuxes and women wear white gowns. In other words, everyone looks like they are getting married. It’s beyond ridiculous, but when I tried to talk to my dad about it once, he essentially told me to stay in my lane.

So here I am, in a fucking wedding dress, trying to make it appear to look less like a wedding dress. I wish I could be like Allie, who says fuck the patriarchy and wears a black knee-length bodycon dress that fits her like a glove every year. For some reason, my dad lets it go. If I pulled a stunt like that, he would never let me hear the end of it.

I didn’t think about this awkward detail when I asked Luke to be my plus one. He’s going to think I’m crazy. I also forgot to mention to him that my dad always insists on sending a limo to pick me up. Of course, I have to look the part of a successful CEO’s daughter. I can’t possibly come rolling down the driveway in my Acura.

The mere thought of Luke makes my knees weak. He made good on his word the other day, teasing me to the point that I was begging and pleading with him. I think I even told him I would name my firstborn child after him. He seemed really amused by that, but he still didn’t let up. Not until he knew I was holding on by a thread. Then he made me explode. My clit throbs and goosebumps rise along my arms at the memory. I shake my head.Keep it together, Emory.

Allie comes into my room and looks drop-dead gorgeous as usual. She’s wearing her skin-tight black dress and black Louboutins. She even traded her glasses for contacts tonight. Her makeup is bold, with subtle smoky eyes, intense black liner on the tops of her lids, and perfect scarlet-stained lips.

“Damn, girl. You look…”

“Thanks,” she winks as she looks me up and down. “Oh shit. Did I miss the rehearsal dinner?”

“Funny,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“My gift was backordered,” she goes on. “Spoiler alert: I got you the blender. Everything else on your registry was ugly or already taken.”

“If you’re done, can you please button me up?”

“Oh, you mean the buttons running down your wedding dress?”

I sigh. This is going to be a long night.

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