Page 104 of Love Lessons
“Yeah well. Our meeting is tomorrow. Eight a.m. And I need to talk to you beforehand,” O’Doul says to our backs.
“Text me,” Ian grunts. Then he’s unlocking the door and pulling me inside.
“Isn’t that rude?” I ask. “Don’t you need to talk to him?”
“No, he gets it. Shh,” Ian says. “I’m going to kiss you up against this door now, and nobody better dare interrupt me.”
And then he does.
* * *
Ian’s placehas furniture now, and I approve—particularly of a giant bed I can see from where I’m standing in his living room.
We’ve only made it about twenty feet into the apartment in fits and starts. Somewhere along the way, we’ve shed his tie and his jacket, my purse, and all of my hair pins. And now I’m working on the buttons of his new shirt.
“As much as I enjoy this dress, I’d like to remove it now,” he says, his hands curved around my hips.
“Okay,” I slur. “There’s a zipper.”
He grins. “I’m good at those. But I’m probably going to see your tummy, and I know how you hate that.”
“Oh,” I say. But suddenly I just don’t care. “I guess you’re going to have to see it at some point.”
His eyes are full of tenderness as he looks down at me. “Swear to God, contessa. There are benefits to showing me your tummy.”
“Like what?” I have to ask.
“Shower sex is the first thing that leaps to mind,” he says. “That’s a whole genre we haven’t once explored.”
“Youarefull of fun ideas.”
“See? You gotta trust me. Now let’s have this zipper.”
I turn around. Clever fingers find and unfurl the zipper. Ian holds the straps of my dress as I carefully step out of it.
Then, holding my breath, I turn around to face him in nothing but a strapless bra and lace panties.
His eyes slide down my body, but there’s no disgust there. And then a smile lights his whole face. “Contessa! The only surprise here is that your panties don’t match that bra. What would the other stylists say?”
“Ian!”
He lays the dress carefully onto the sofa and then scoops me up off my feet. I wrap my arms around him as he carries me into his bedroom. “You are as beautiful as the day is long,” he says. “Was that so hard?”
“No,” I admit. Not now. Not when I trust him.
He lays me down on the bed, and I forget all about that dumb scar.
* * *
An hourlater we’re draped together, completely naked and spent. The light has long since faded outside, and it’s dark in Ian’s bedroom. Nobody can see that scar anymore.
But it’s still on my mind. “I would like to explain why I was so reluctant to let you see me.”
“Yeah, I still can’t get over it. A black bra and red panties?”
I poke him in the hip, and he laughs.
“That dress required a backless bra. I had limited options.”
