Page 65 of Desperate Crimes
Only I don’t think Hades ever bought Persephone silk lingerie in her exact size or built her a personal garden of black roses and starlight.
So maybe I win.
Or maybe I’ve lost my mind.
Either way?
I can’t stop thinking about him.
I splash some water on my face and pat my skin dry and walk into the bedroom.
Bed’s made. Curtain’s still drawn. And Nico isn’t there.
I bite my lip and glance at the vanity, where a pale pink silk bralette and matching panties wait for me, neatly folded like a gift.
I hesitate for a moment, then reach for them.
They're gorgeous.
Delicate.
No underwire, thank God.
I’ve always hated the tightness of it, the way it digs into my skin.
This? This feels like heaven.
And I can’t help but wonder if it’s all real or not.
How much does he know about me?
How much has he seen and collected over the years?
I slide the bralette over my breasts, and it fits perfectly.
Lifts without pinching.
Cups me just right.
The panties are buttery soft, trimmed in lace that hugs my hips without cutting into them.
My body feels sinful and soft, wrapped in silk and something I shouldn’t enjoy—but do.
I glance at the tag.
Kisses by Kylie—the best couture lingerie made specifically for plus-size women, but available in every size.
My heart stutters.
That’s my brand. My favorite. Michaela’s, too.
We always order the new releases before they even hit the site. There’s no way this is a coincidence.
I frown.
Nico was ready for me.
For everything.
