Текст книги "At Last"

Автор книги: Whitney Gracia Williams

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 9

Jonathan

I watched as Claire stepped away from me, as she pulled the band from around her ponytail and tossed her hair back.

Within seconds, the song she’d selected began to play and soft, vibrating bass sounds filled the room.

She slowly lifted my tie over her head and seductively moved her hips. Then she brought the tie in front of her chest, twisting it between her hands, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

She struck the floor with it, biting her lip. “Is it hard for you to let me be in control for a change?”

“You’re not in control.” I smiled.

She put a hand on her hip and strutted over to me, leaning forward and whispering in my ear. “That question was rhetorical, Jonathan...Do I need to get you a dictionary so you can learn what that word means?”

I reached out to bend her over my lap, but she moved behind me and started massaging my shoulders—blowing kisses against my neck as her hands found their way down to my chest.

Just as I was starting to get used to her soft rhythm, she moved her hands away and sashayed around me, slowly unbuttoning the white dress shirt.

When she reached the last button, she playfully opened the shirt to show off the black ‘fuck-me’ lingerie, then she closed it again. She repeated this at least six times, until she finally slid the shirt off her body and tossed it across the room.

As the song reached the second verse, she dropped down to the floor, and stretched her legs up to the ceiling, spreading them into a wide “V.” Then she brought her legs together again and bent them, bringing them close to her chest before she flipped her whole body over.

Seductively smiling, she sat up on her knees and ran her hands across her breasts—squeezing them and shutting her eyes.

I was trying my hardest not to get up and grab her, desperately trying to keep my hands at my sides as she continued to smirk at me and move across the floor.

“Something wrong, Jonathan?” She stood up and dragged one of the bar’s chairs a few feet across from me. “You’re not usually this quiet...” She sat on the chair with her back facing me and rolled her head around, tossing her hair all over. Then she bent all the way backwards, using her hands to brace the floor, and before I knew it she’d flipped over and was crawling up into my lap.

I caressed her hips with my hands, but she grabbed them and moved them away as she started to grind her hips against me—purposely rolling against my dick.

“I thought about you today at work...” she whispered into my ear.

I was losing it. She was too fucking good at this.

She leaned back and spread her legs wider. “I thought to myself—I wonder how he’ll fuck me after I’m done...Will it be with him on top?” She moaned as she gyrated against me even harder. “Against the wall? In his lap?”

I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before...

She brought her lips close to mine like she was going to kiss me, but she quickly moved away and stood up, walking over to the wall.

She pressed her back against it and stretched her arms up high, twisting and turning her hips to the beat, knowing damn well she was getting to me.

I leaned forward and reached out for her, but she kicked my hand away.

“I’m not finished.” She narrowed her eyes at me and turned around, bending over so her ass was in my face.

I can’t take this shit anymore...

I stood up and pulled her against me, but she broke free and pushed me back down into my chair. Before I could tell her that this dance was over and push her up against the bar, she bent down between my legs and unzipped my pants.

The song was repeating itself for the third time, but she didn’t make a move to change it. She simply unzipped my pants and removed them before pulling something out of her bra—a bottle of some type. She poured whatever it was all over my dick and rubbed her hands all over it, making me shut my eyes and groan.

The next thing I felt were her wet lips touching my tip, her soft tongue slowly swirling around.

“God, Claire...” I ran my fingers through her hair as she took me deeper and deeper into her mouth, as she brought me to the verge of a climax.

Before I could cum, I pulled her up and looked into her eyes, in complete and total fucking awe.

Kissing her lips, I picked her up and carried her to the other side of the room.

I laid her across the bar and spread her legs apart, tearing her lace panties off.

She moaned as I pressed kisses up and down her thighs, as I grabbed her by the ankles and tossed her legs over my shoulders.

Before she could take another breath, I gently sucked her clit into my mouth and ran my tongue along her folds, teasing her with every lick.

“Ahhh...Ahhh...Jonathannn...” She was squirming, trying to sit up, but I pushed her back down.

I kissed her swollen wet lips like I was kissing her mouth—pushing my tongue further and further, rolling it around relentlessly. Each time she screamed, I caressed her clit with softer kisses, never moving my mouth away from her.

Her hips started to shake and she started breathing heavily, saying my name as she got closer and closer to her orgasm.

I felt her legs trembling—quivering, and I knew she was seconds away from coming so I lifted my head up and stepped back.

Smiling, I joined her on top of the bar’s counter and snapped her bra off.

She sat up and looked at me in confusion. “Why...Why did you...Why did you stop?” She panted.

I blinked and spun her around, positioning her on all fours. I skimmed my hands against her sides and pulled her hair back. Then I pounded into her with no mercy, listening to the cries of pleasure that were coming from her mouth.

“Fuckkkkk....Jonathannnn...”

“You are so fucking sexy, Claire...” I kissed the back of her shoulder and I tugged on her hair even harder. “And mine...”

I moved my hands to her breasts and squeezed them, harshly twisting her nipples as I pounded into her again and again.

She screamed louder and started to slump forward—nearly collapsing, so I drew back and flipped her over.

I slid into her again and gazed into her eyes. “I love you...” I felt her tightening around me as she reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Say it back.” I slowly thrust in and out of her, watching as she started to lose control. “Say it back, Claire.”

“I...I love...I love you too...” She cried out and held onto me as we came at the same time.

Her chest was heaving fast and she was breathing heavily.

I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, muffling most of her murmurs. I kissed every inch of her face and placed a long, warm kiss against her neck.

When her breathing finally slowed down, I slid out of her and pulled her into my lap.

“Are you okay?” I brushed her damp hair away from her forehead.

She nodded.

“You should’ve told me you were taking classes. I wouldn’t have been upset about you coming home late because of that.”

“I...I wanted to surprise you...Did you like it?”

“I loved it...” I kissed her lips again and positioned her in my lap. “And I’m going to love fucking you in every position you mentioned for the rest of the night.”

I woke up alone and rolled over in bed, reaching for Claire, but she’d disappeared. Just as I was about to get up and look for her, she walked into the room holding a breakfast tray.

“Are you ever going to tell me how breakfast is always magically fixed and waiting for us every morning?” She set the tray on the nightstand.

“No.”

“You have a contract with a caterer don’t you?” She picked up a piece of toast. “That’s why you never cook breakfast—only lunch and dinner...”

“Was that supposed to be a question?”

“Do you plan on answering it?”

I pulled her back into the bed and kissed her lips. “I’ll tell you one day.”

She tried to get up, but I pinned her down and kissed my way to her neck.

“Wait...We need to talk...” she murmured.

“About what?” I continued kissing her.

“I’m getting my tubes untied next week. I want to try and have another baby—your baby.”

“Excuse me?” I sat up and narrowed my eyes at her. “What did you just say?”

She burst into laughter. “I wanted to make sure you were paying attention. It was a joke.”

“Please don’t tell another one.”

She propped her head on a pillow. “I don’t want to have sex again until after we’re married. I was thinking about it the other day and...”

My mind hadn’t processed anything beyond that first sentence.

I saw her lips moving, caught a few more of her words—“intimate” “special” “genuine”—but that first sentence had blown my mind.

“What do you think?” was the next thing I heard her say.

“What do I think about what?”

“About being abstinent until we get married.”

“It’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make any damn sense. Because I didn’t ask you to be my wife so I could not fuck you. It’s. Not. Happening.”

She sighed. “I want our first time as a married couple to be special...”

“It will be special.” I ran my hand across her thigh. “Very special.”

“I want it to be like our first time...”

“I fucked you in a kitchen our first time. What are you saying, Claire?”

“You know exactly what I’m saying.” She sat up and kissed me. Then she spoke very slowly. “I don’t want to have sex again until we’re actually married. I think it’ll be good for us—it’ll test our commitment to one another.”

I was silent. Shocked.

After the amazing night we’d had, I couldn’t believe she was saying these words to me, that she was even asking me to do something like this.

I shook my head. “I can’t...”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“Both.”

“Jonathan...”

I pulled her into my arms, close enough that we were lip to lip and our eyes were perfectly aligned. “I’m addicted to you, Claire,” I whispered against her mouth. “Fucking addicted. Not one second goes by that you’re not on my mind. Not. One. Second. When deals are coming across my desk, I’m wondering how your day is going at your shop, wondering if you’ll laugh or smile at the note I sent with your flowers. You have no idea how hard it is for me to stay in my office when you text me about going on your lunch break, no idea how much I have to restrain myself when you’re not home by six and hosting another late night meeting.”

She sucked in a breath and I ran my fingers through her hair, whispering again. “I go through withdrawal every time we go our separate ways because being without you for one second is damn near unbearable. So, if I’m being completely fucking honest about what you’re asking me to do—I can’t.”

There was a thick silence hanging in the air between us, and before she opened her mouth to break it, I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“It would make me happy if you would do this for me—if you would at least try... I’ve been thinking about it for a while and it’s something I really want us to do...”

“Claire...” I shook my head and sighed, wishing I could find the asshole who’d filled her head with this nonsense. “If I agree to this, if I fully commit to this absolutely ridiculous idea, I want you to know that I will not give in until after we’re married.”

“I’m so very honored.”

“No matter how much you beg—and you will beg because I know you better than you know yourself, I will not have sex with you until after we’ve said I do.”

“Thank you very much.” She smiled and kissed me, and I had to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap.

“Since we’re going to have a pretty boring afternoon...” I picked a silver box up from the nightstand and handed it to her. “You didn’t get a chance to open your anniversary present yesterday.”

“You didn’t get the rest of yours either.” She pointed to a strange white patch on her left foot. “Peel this off.”

I raised my eyebrow and slowly peeled back two layers of gauze and tape. There was nothing underneath it, nothing but—I stopped.

“I had my freedom date tattoo removed. I’ve been getting pieces of it etched away for months...” she whispered. “I don’t want any part of my past in our future...”

I looked at her bare foot, running my fingers against where her divorce date used to be. Then I looked into her eyes, not saying anything—hoping she could simply see how much that meant to me.

Sighing, I pulled her closer. “Open the box.”

She smiled and gently pulled at the silver ribbon, purposely taking her time. Then she popped the top off and read the small handwritten note aloud: “I loved you the first time I saw you, I loved you the first time I met you, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life—Jonathan...”

She ran her finger against those words a few more times, and gasped as she pulled the sparkling silver necklace out of the box.

I’d thought long and hard about what to get her for our first anniversary since we’d come so far from where we used to be: She no longer questioned our age difference or had any hesitation about other people knowing she was mine. In fact, she was the happiest I’d ever seen her and she talked about our “forever” more than I did.

“How much did you pay for this?” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re more than worth it.” I took the necklace from her hands—a glittering diamond strand with an infiniti charm and the word “love” etched within its loops. “I’m adding the same charm to your other necklace next week. I want to add a new one to it every year.”

She smiled, and then she shook her head. “I never said it back that day, Jonathan...Why is this our anniversary when I never said it back?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The first day you told me that you loved me last year—when we were in the Jacuzzi together, I never said ‘I love you’ back...I didn’t tell you until months later at that conference...”

I sighed and pulled her close. “You said it in your sleep that night. More than once...You say it in your sleep now...”

She blushed.

“Where are your friends taking you for your bachelorette party? Is there a reason I didn’t get an invite?”

“Because you’re not invited.” She laughed. “They haven’t told me where, but I’m pretty sure we’re going to Vegas. Helen keeps talking about getting lucky. Where’s yours?”

“Vegas.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ll be seeing me while you’re there.”

“I’m pretty sure it does.” I smiled. “How long will you be gone?”

“A week. I have to meet them at the airport tonight.”

“You’re flying on a commercial plane? With other passengers that you don’t know?”

She nodded.

“Interesting.” I pushed her down onto the bed. “Well, since we can’t have sex anymore, there’s one thing I need to do to you before you leave...”

Chapter 10

Claire

I was sitting in the back of the town car, smiling and running my fingers across my newest necklace. All I could think about was last night—the way Jonathan looked at me while I was dancing, the way he kissed me once I was finished.

“Is there a reason you’ve been holding that smile for half an hour?” Helen raised her eyebrow.

“What smile?”

“The ‘I’ve been thoroughly-well-fucked’ smile.” She rolled her eyes. “I know it all too well. And are those fucking hickeys?” She leaned over and touched the bright red marks on my neck.

“Hickeys?”

“That asshole marked you on purpose didn’t he? Because you’re going away for a week and he wants every man to know you’re unavailable, right? He’s so ridiculous!”

I laughed and looked out the window as we approached the airstrip—reading the huge pink banner that was draped across the entryway of the plane: “Claire’s Last Weekend of Freedom”

Helen told me that she’d originally bought first class tickets for the flight, but Jonathan had called her hours ago and insisted that we use his jet.

“Do you have your passport, Claire?” Helen looked at me as Greg opened the backdoor.

“Why would I need my passport?”

“Because we’re going out of the country and you need a passport to get in and out of the states. Please tell me you have it.”

“Out of the country? I thought we were going to Vegas.”

“Vegas? Seriously, Claire? I went there last year—been there, done that. We’re going to Costa Rica!”

“What?!”

“Why do you think I’ve been making such a huge deal about this? I want you to experience ultimate bliss. Let’s go.” She tugged me towards the plane.

“But I told Jonathan we were going to Vegas.”

“You’re not supposed to tell Jonathan anything. This is a bachelorette party, Claire. Whatever happens in Costa Rica, stays in Costa Rica—unless he has an American VISA and I want to bring him back for a week or two.” She winked and gestured for me to get on the plane.

I stepped aboard and took a deep breath, squeezing my way past two carts of alcohol. On the very first seat was a huge bouquet of white lilies and a card:

Dear Future Wife & Exotic Dancer,

I’m not thrilled about the next few weeks of torture, but I do hope that you enjoy your bachelorette party. (Just not too much.) I’ll be in the penthouse suite at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas this week if you need anything.

Your Future Husband & Awed Fan,

Jonathan

PS—I love you.

I smiled and noticed that there was something else in the envelope—a small packet with four red pills and another note: “To help you sleep on the way there and back—Jonathan”

“Welcome aboard, ladies!” I heard Helen say as high pitched laughter filled the cabin.

I turned around and found myself face to face with Helen’s other set of best friends—Kimberly and Bobbie Jo. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a magazine—perfect makeup and hair as usual, which was fitting since they were both former supermodels.

She’d met the two of them years before she met me, and she always bragged about how she helped them to sue Maybelline for millions of dollars.

I still remembered the first time I’d met them, the time they dared me to do a body shot with a complete stranger and encouraged me to “gently brush up against his dick...just to see if it’s as big as it looks...” They’d claimed that that was step one to getting over Ryan, step one in showing him who was better off.

I can’t be left alone with the three of them for A WEEK...Where the hell is Sandra?!

“Nice seeing you again, ladies. I’ll be right back.” I smiled and slipped away to the restroom. I immediately pulled out my phone and called Sandra.

It rang six times before she picked up.

“Hello?” She was whispering.

“Are you on your way to the airstrip? The flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

“Ohhhh, no. I am so sorry, Claire...”

“You’re not coming to my bachelorette party? Are you serious?”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was packed and ready to go this morning but...I’m engaged now!” She squealed. “Michael popped the question and he’s taking me to France tomorrow! Can you believe that?” There was a man’s voice in the background. “Wait, wait. It’s Claire. Give me ten more seconds.”

“Ten more seconds?”

“I really am sorry, Claire. I’ll make this up to you, I promise. I’ll take you out for drinks and a night on the town the second I get back.”

“You can’t leave me with Helen and her friends...It’s one or the other—I can’t deal with all of them.”

“They’re your friends too, Claire.” She was rolling her eyes—I could tell. “Maybe hanging out with them more often will stop you from being so uptight.”

“You think I’m uptight?”

The line went dead.

Ugh...I shook my head and the door opened.

“Phone sex?” Bobbie Jo stepped inside and flipped her long, honey colored tresses over her shoulder. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“The door was closed, Bobbie Jo.”

She shrugged. “I used to have phone sex all the time—back when I was doing shows overseas and no one around me spoke any English. I would call home just so I could get fucked over the phone.”

“I wasn’t having phone sex. I was talking to Sandra.”

“No need to explain. If I was engaged to Jonathan Statham, I would have sex with him any way I could—any time I could. I bet he fucks like a champion.”

Oh, god...

“Claire? Bobbie Jo?!” Helen called out from the cabin. “We’re about to take the first shots of the night!”

I stood up and followed Bobbie Jo out of the restroom, silently reminding myself that this trip was only a week and that even though they were all wild, I wouldn’t let them talk me into doing anything that would make Jonathan upset.

“Here you go, Claire.” Kim handed me two shot glasses. “You look a lot happier since I saw you last year. You’re glowing.”

“Thank you.”

“If I was having sex with a billionaire every day I’d probably be glowing too...” Helen picked up a bottle of vodka and filled our glasses. “Speaking of which, is his friend Corey single?”

I rolled my eyes and tossed back both shots. I had the sudden feeling I was going to need to be drunk all weekend.

Helen quickly refilled my glasses before holding her own drinks up high. “To men with huge dicks, never-ending sex, and to Claire’s last days as a single woman!”

We all laughed and tossed back the drinks seconds before the flight attendant asked us to take our seats.

I sat down and sent Jonathan one last text—“Going to Costa Rica for the week, Love you,” and swallowed two of the pills he’d given me. Before I knew it, I was staring at the back of my eyelids.

“How do you pronounce the name of this place again?” Kim sighed.

“Peninsula Papagayo.” Bobbie Jo enunciated each syllable. “The Gayo rhymes with I-yo.”

“I’ll just keep saying Costa Rica...”

I rolled over on my beach blanket and looked off into the distance. Peninsula Papagayo was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever explored: The waters that surrounded its coast were as blue as its sky, the lush greenery that stood behind the resort stretched for miles and miles, and pure, white sand covered all of its beaches.

We’d only been here for three days, but it’d been way more relaxed and laid-back than I thought it would be.

When we’d first arrived and checked into our private estate—an opulent six bedroom, four bathroom villa that sat right on the waters, Helen had given me a travel brochure and told me to choose whatever I wanted to do.

I was shocked that she’d even asked for my suggestions, but per my request we’d gone sailing, bungee jumping, and taken a five mile hike on a wildlife trail. In between snorkeling, kayaking, and sight-seeing, we’d relaxed on the beach and downed countless umbrella drinks to pass the time; I honestly hoped the rest of the week would be the same.

Bobbie Jo tapped my shoulder. “Are you relaxed enough to finally have some fun now? Or do we need to do another recreational activity? More tropical bird watching perhaps?”

“It was a wildlife hike. Those birds were beautiful.”

“They were also boring!” She rolled her eyes. “We’re going out every night for the rest of the week because I refuse to do anymore touristy-bullshit. Starting tonight, you’re going to dress like you’re single, dance like you’re single, and since you aren’t married yet—you’re going to act like you’re single.”

“Agreed.” Kim stood up and covered me with her shadow. “No more lame outdoor shit, no more beach-napping, and no more late night calls to Jonathan.”

“I haven’t called Jonathan...”

They both crossed their arms and gave me blank stares.

“I only call him once a day.”

“He’s in Vegas right now!” Kim practically screamed. “Vegas! He’s enjoying himself to the max and you should be too!”

“I am having fun...”

The two of them pulled me up and walked me towards the shoreline, slipping their arms around me like they were holding me up. Then they pushed me into an oncoming wave.

“We’re going to keep doing that until you wake up and realize where the fuck you are.” Kim laughed. “No more calling Jonathan. Okay? Helen has been planning this trip for weeks and she really wants you to have a good, sexy time. That’s why she went back to the room for the afternoon—she’s planning what we’re going to do tonight.”

“She went back to the room with a half-naked bartender...”

They both burst into laughter and joined me in the water.

“Okay, so maybe she got bored from doing outdoor activities for three days straight.” Bobbie Jo shrugged. “But tonight, all of that changes. Got it?”

Later that night, Helen slipped into a sundress and smiled. “I am now an official member of the thoroughly well-fucked club! Today’s romp goes down in my top ten fucks of all time.”

“I thought you didn’t keep count.”

“I don’t keep count. I do rank though.” She laughed and handed me a huge strawberry margarita. “Are you ready to finally start your bachelorette party?”

“It’s not going to be anything crazy, right?”

“Of course it is.” She rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and drink that so I can get you to the first surprise.”

“Wait...Are Bobbie Jo and Kim coming with us? Why did they ditch me after the beach?”

“Drink the damn drink, Claire.”

I sighed and downed the drink in three huge gulps—wincing at the incredible amount of alcohol that was mixed in.

“Okay now, here...” She pulled me up and secured a blindfold around my eyes. “Step forward...Watch your step...Step up a little bit...Okay now keep moving forward...”

I didn’t know where the hell she was taking me, but half an hour later she was still leading me around.

“Thank you sir,” she said to someone as she pushed me forward.

A cool blast of air hit my face and I could feel the smooth floors of an indoor building. I kept following her directions until she suddenly grabbed my shoulders and held me still.

Clearing her throat, she removed my blindfold and I realized I was standing in the middle of a massive spa and salon. There was no one else around except Bobbie Jo and Kim, and they were standing on the other side of the room, waving at me.

“Before we can get the real party started, Kim and Bobbie Jo are going to give you a much needed makeover.”

“What? I don’t want a makeover.” I waved my ring in front of her face. “And I clearly don’t need one.”

“Sweet, naïve, and foolish Claire...” She shook her head. “You’re making married woman mistake number one and you’re not even married yet. No man wants to come home to the same woman month after month. You have to switch it up every now and then. Keep him interested, make him remember why you’re the—yeah...Feel free to fill in all the shit I don’t believe in right there.” She laughed. “I personally love your style and your hair, but you’ve been wearing it the same way for four and half years so it’s time for a change. Besides, I highly doubt two supermodels will screw you over.”

“Are you going to stick around and watch?” I noticed her stepping backwards.

“Claire, there’s a vaginal steaming spa right down the hall. The treatment is supposed to tighten my walls and make sex ten times more pleasurable. Where do you think I’m going to be?”

“You’re a terrible friend.”

“I love you too.” She walked me over to Kim and Bobbie Jo. “Please don’t scare Claire too much. She’s practically innocent.”

They laughed and shooed her away.

“Sit down here.” Bobbie Jo helped me into a salon chair. “You have very good symmetry, Claire. I’m not sure if I ever told you that before.”

“Thank you very much.”

“No, no, no. I was talking about you, not to you. This is business.” She grabbed a tweezer and plucked one of my eyebrows. “Look at this, Kim. These brows aren’t in line with her natural shape. We need to fix that now so they’ll be shaped perfectly when she gets married.”

“You’re right...What about her hair? I’m not really feeling this color.”

I cleared my throat. “No. I like my red hair.”

Kim raised her hand and gave me a look. “We know beauty, Claire. We’ve worked with the best, dated the best, and we’ve fucked the best. We know exactly what we’re doing.”

“The red can stay, but it needs more volume—way more volume.” Bobbie Jo looked at me like I was an impossible project. “I’m thinking auburn highlights and a blowout.”

“And a deep mask facial...”

“And a mud bath...”

“And a major exfoliating process... ”

The two of them kept listing treatment after treatment, talking about me as if I wasn’t sitting right in front of them.

A waiter appeared out of nowhere and held out a tray of champagne glasses. I took two and sipped them as fast as I could.

“Claire?” Bobbie Jo tapped her chin. “We’re trying to figure out what color we should paint your lips...Tell me something, after you get done giving Jonathan head do you spit or swallow?”

I spluttered my champagne into the air. “Excuse me?”

“She swallows.” Kim laughed and helped me stand up.  “Good for you, Claire! Spitters are quitters!”

Jesus...

Bobbie Jo tossed her head back and laughed. “Sinful red for you it is!”

They led me over to the shampoo bowl and for the next hour, I lay back and let them do at least ten different protein treatments. When they were done, they took turns brushing soft, autumn colored highlights into my hair, promising me that Jonathan “would fuck [me] on the spot” once he saw the ‘new and improved’ me.

I’d given up on protesting any of their suggestions; I’d accepted their “We know what we’re doing” and “You’re dealing with the best” mantras. Even when they insisted that I let them place some type of sea-food inspired gunk on my face, I didn’t bother telling them that I hated seafood. I just held my breath and got it over with.

“Okay, now relax...” Kim pulled a steaming hot blow dryer through my hair. “This is the most important part. This is where we make you look fuckable.”

As she teased, combed, and curled my hair, Bobbie Jo hummed and applied makeup to my face, demanding that I purse my lips every few seconds.

I suddenly felt my phone vibrating and pulled it out of my pocket.

I was hoping it was Jonathan, but it was a number I didn’t recognize. A text. “Heard you’re on vacation in Costa Rica—must be nice...We need to speak as soon as you get back. I’m not taking no for an answer so be ready to TALK—Ryan.”

“Is it Jonathan?” Kim sighed.

“Um, no.” I deleted the message. “It’s not Jonathan. Just someone with the wrong number.” I shut my eyes and sat still as they continued to work, trying not to think about Ryan and whatever the hell he wanted to talk about.

How did he get my new number?

“Okay, we’re all done.” Kim sounded happy. “Now it’s time to help you into the right dress.” She put the blindfold over my eyes again and led me into another room.

For what felt like another hour, she and Bobbie Jo literally dressed and undressed me until they finally agreed on what I should wear.

“Turn around, sexy.” Bobbie Jo took off my blindfold and spun me around. “What do you think?”