Page 57 of Speed Crush

I plan for lace and garters but find weaponized seduction instead. I think I’m blushing the entire time I am in their "Beginner’s Armor" section.

A woman with flawless brows and stilettos smiles at me. “Shopping for yourself or… preparing for a special someone?”

I blink. “A project.”

She arches a perfect brow.

I panic. “An…independent study.”

“Wonderful,” she purrs, steering me toward a table of lacy bralettes and matching panties that look like they’ll disintegrate if you evenbreatheon them wrong. “Then you’ll want something that says‘confident, curious, and ready to destroy him.’”

So, naturally, I buy three sets.

The first is blush-toned lace—innocent in color, sinful in execution. The second is navy blue with strappy sides and a gold clasp I still haven’t figured out. The third? Black push-up bra with tiny bows and a pair of zero modesty panties with a slit.

I may never wear that last one.

But because I need theoption.

And because I’m thorough, I don’t stop there.

I buy condoms… variety pack. Enough for a healthy adult couple and a backup stash for someone who might panic mid-foreplay and drop one down a vent.

And because I’m a data-driven kind of girl and yet I’ve not seen Noah’s “equipment,” I ask the saleswoman about the mentioned sizes on the boxes.

She’s more than happy to bring out... visual aids. A few, actually. She lined up dildos like it was a tasting flight and asked me to gesture where I think he lands.'

I’m mortified. I may or may not have mimed the way he felt against me. In the end, we both agreed: XXL condoms. Just to be safe. Probably very safe.

Ribbed, ultra-thin, temperature-sensitive, and one box that says “Suede Touch. For Her.” which makes me blush so hard the saleswoman offers me water.

And yes. I get reading material.

A slim, tastefully illustrated booklet titled“Pleasure Mapping: Finding His Yes.”With sticky tabs.

Because if I’m going to give Noahme, I want to learnhimtoo. All of him. His tension points. His weaknesses. The places that make a man sigh, or groan, or maybe lose control entirely.

And since it’s splashed all over the tabloids—his various previous dalliances with other women—I feel a little competitive. I don’t just want to be another body.

I want to bethe one he remembers.

The one who makes him rethink every touch that came before.

So yeah.

I shave—legs, underarms, and yes,down there. It’s awkward and a little risky, but the results? Kind of amazing.

I spend an embarrassing amount of time marveling at how soft I feel before I talk myself into booking a bikini wax for later.

Thank you,Pleasure Mappingchapter six—apparently the best way to boost confidence is to feel like you could slide across a marble countertop in nothing but your skin. And I want to go into this feeling smooth, smug, and mildly invincible.

I even lotion and gloss. Choosing to wear the navy-blue lingerie set with the strappy sides and gold clasp that I hope Noah won’t take too long to figure it out. Then my softest jeans, the scoop-neck thermal that hugs my curves just enough to make me brave. Mascara. A whisper of perfume behind my ear.

Today isn’t careless.

It’sintentional.

If he wants me, he’s getting all of me. Not in pieces. Not in denial.

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