Page 30 of The Sweetmate
We’ve finished our lunch when there’s a knock at the door. “It’s for you,” I tell Lisa.
“Is that your way of telling me to get the door?”
“Nope, I can answer it. But I’m giving you a heads-up that it’s going to be for you.”
Lisa gives me a skeptical look, but she stands. I enjoy the view of her backside as she walks to the door.
“What did you do? Casey! What is all this?” Lisa opens the door wider for everyone to enter the room.
“Let’s see the dress!” I requested a fitted and short dress. I’m eager to see Lisa in something showing a little more skin. Am I being a selfish dick by using this to my advantage? Absolutely.
One of the people holds up a black garment bag. She unzips it to reveal a pastel blue dress.
Lisa chokes. “No. I’m sorry. No. I can’t.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask as I walk toward them with my hands in my slacks pockets.
Lisa stares at me with shock. “Does it come in a size dignity?”
The lady holding the dress places a hand on Lisa’s. “Let’s try it on. For fun.”
“Fun,” Lisa grumbles, but she follows her to the bedroom. She turns to me and mouths, “I’m going to kill you.”
I chuckle as I take my seat on the couch to get ready for the show. Lisa in that dress is going to be the highlight of my day.
“Go ahead and send in hair and makeup,” the lady from earlier calls out.
I guess she decided to wear it. Not like there are many other options. “We do have time to get another dress if you’re uncomfortable, cupcake,” I call out.
“No, dear. This dress is fine.”
Dear? I force a laugh, not entirely sure how I feel about that. Her change in mood has me suspicious. I sit there uncomfortable for over an hour. I’m on pins and needles. But when Lisa walks out, I have to take a deep breath before I can speak.
“You’re not wearing that tonight,” I say in a low command. My voice is filled with need and possessiveness.
The dress accents all her delicate curves. Her skirt rides up her thighs, so very close to a place I’ve been fantasizing of tasting. The blue color suits her dark hair and eyes, and that pink lipstick would be a lovely color smeared on my cock. I’ve only ever seen her in flats or sneakers, but now she’s wearing fuck-me pumps that show off her calves.
“I’m wearing this dress. After all, you picked it out, dear.” Lisa then makes a mock kissing sound. “And I love it. Thank you.”
Well, this backfired. I’m not a violent person, but the thought of other men ogling her has me murderous. Fake girlfriend or not, she’s mine. She may not feel the same way about me, but for these next couple of days, she agreed to be mine. And I still don’t share.
My voice comes out strained when I say, “Can I speak to you? Privately.”
“We don’t have time. You’re still not ready. You’ll have to tell me on the way.”
I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.
Her eyes shine with desire. “What are you doing? You’re not the only person in the room. We have guests.”
“We’ll see ourselves out.” The crew takes their leave, but Lisa calls out, “You don’t have to go!”
They ignore her plea and wave bye. The click of the door echoes in the room. I make quick work of my pants. I can feel my pulse thrumming everywhere. I stand before her in my black briefs. “Follow me to the bedroom so we can talk while I get ready.”
She fidgets and I love how her confidence and wound-tight personality is unraveling. I’d enjoy making her squirm longer, but she’s right—we’re on a time crunch.
“This is inappro—”
“That dress is. Yet you’re still wearing it. Not that I’m complaining, but let’s not cherry-pick when we’re going to follow the rules.”
