Page 80 of Forget Me

She shook her head. “No way. There’s not enough fabric here. And all that sparkly shit? It’ll make me look like a disco ball.”

“Try it.” I held it out to her. “Indulge me.”

She didn’t answer, only shut the door in my face.

I wiped down the counters in her kitchen and started the dishwasher. After ten minutes, she hadn’t emerged, so I tapped on the door. “Everything okay?”

“I can’t get the zipper up. But I don’t think I like this one. It’s too…”

When she didn’t finish, I asked, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Since you’ve already seen me naked and…”

The dress had stolen the ends of her sentences, and when I stepped into the room, she stole my breath.

In the lamplight, the sequins shimmered like sunset over the water. The bodice gaped over her chest. I aligned it with her shoulders and slowly zipped it from below the swell of her ass all the way to her nape. As I went, the stretchy dress snugged against her like a second skin.

Fluffing her curls around her shoulders, I peered at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was a long-sleeved faux-wrap style with a slight flare to the skirt that puddled at her feet.

“I—I don’t think—” She turned, and her upper thigh poked out of the long slit.

When I spoke, my voice was hoarse. “What don’t you think, Mimi?”

“It’s not very…professional, is it?”

I swallowed. “You’re stunning. And the dress is appropriate for a gala like this.”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip.

I stepped out of the frame and snapped her picture. With her teeth capturing her plump lower lip, she was a man-eater in that gown.

Sidling closer to admire her in the mirror, I ran my hand over her ribs, all the way down to her hip. The sequins were bumpy and rough against my palm, but the curve of her body was irresistible. I stroked the long line of her back, following the zipper down her spine and over the arc of her ass.

When she hummed in pleasure, I molded my body to her back and tugged her curls to one side. I kissed her neck, and she sagged back against me. On a whim, I raised my phone and snapped a mirror selfie of us, not bothering to look at the screen to see if I’d captured us both. I curled my other arm around her waist and slid it up to cup her breast, weighing it in my palm. I snapped another photo.

“I guess…I guess this dress is the winner for you?”

I kissed up to her earlobe. “You’re exquisite, no matter what you wear.”

“I could wear my college sweatshirt and leggings, and I’d be exquisite?”

“Resplendent.” I nipped her earlobe, and she gasped.

“One of your henleys and my fat jeans?”

“Your fat jeans?” I pulled off her earlobe, momentarily distracted.

“The baggy jeans I wear when I have my period and I’m bloated.”

I caressed the curve of her belly and teased at the opening of the slit just below her hip. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on.”

“You can’t be serious.”

I captured her gaze in the mirror as I inched my fingers inside the slit to stroke her upper thigh. “You’re beautiful to me all the time, Mimi. And baggy jeans give my hands more room.”

I brushed the front of her panties with my thumb, and she shuddered.

“Unzip me. I want your hands on me. Now.”

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