Mama clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.
“What are you praying for now?” I asked in feigned exasperation.
My mother’s eyes remained closed. “That you don’t mess this up by choosing the ugliest dress and not allowing them to comb your hair.”
Carter raised a brow. “You that stubborn?”
“I mean...what’s ugly is relative.” I placed a basket in his hand. “Fix your face and at least put tissue paper at the bottom of each. You can do that, can’t you?”
Although he did what I asked, his curious gaze lingered on me.
Mama and I prepped for the gala like it was my wedding day. After all, it was my debut as the new woman on ex-NFL superstar, veterinarian, and philanthropist, Carter St. Patrick’s arm. My nerves kept me from eating, or I was on the toilet. If I ever went on a diet again, it would be the " get ready for the ESPN Christmas Gala " meal plan.
“Don’t you look good.” My mother praised as she opened the door when he rang the doorbell at seven, while I stood in the center of the room behind her.
Destructively handsome to my pussy delicious would be a more fitting description of the man in his tailored black tux with velvet lapels. How his hungry and admiring gaze seared every inch of me, Carter was just as pleased by my appearance.
After a lengthy argument, I persuaded him to let me choose my dress and accessories on my own. My mother’s prayer worried him because he’d picked up on my stubbornness when I felt pressured. I told him he had to trust me and that I wouldn’t do anything to make either of us look bad. I recognized that being with him wasn’t like being with the average man.
The fitted long, thin-strapped black, sparkly Versace dress that crisscrossed over my back dipped to right above my ass. My hair had been straightened with a couple of added pieces, creating the illusion that I had longer, thicker hair, and then pulled into a loose bun. I only wore diamond-encrusted hoops and a matching bracelet Carter gifted me as an early Christmas present. I splurged on black, red-bottom heels. The makeup artist accentuated my cheekbones and light brown eyes. Thecrimson color made my slightly pouty lips alluring. I turned around slowly, itching to smile. “Do you like?”
Mama started walking backward. “I’ll give you some space.”
Carter couldn’t drag his eyes from me. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She quirked a brow and touched my arm. “You owe me.”
The moment we were alone, his hand rested on my lower bare back long enough to snatch me to him and growled, “Fuck going to the gala. The minute another man stares at you, it’s over, and I don’t want to fight. We’re going back to my place.”
Pleased at his rapt attention, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I told you to trust me. And I didn’t do all this to get naked.”
“Oh, you can keep the dress on while I fuck you.” His hand slid down my back to cup my ass before he whistled, “A thong and you expect me to stay sane this whole night?”
I pulled him out of the door. “We can sex all night after the gala.”
The cool air raised goosebumps, and Carter asked, “You don’t have a wrap or a jacket?”
“And cover this dress? I’ll be fine, and after we’ve made our entrance, I’ll use yours.”
He kissed my nape. “Thinking we need to go to every black tie event I’ve been invited to if this is the Brooklyn I get.”
The driver held the door open for us in the Black Cadillac Escalade. “Good evening, Dr. Kelley. I’m Charles, your driver for tonight.”
“Good evening.” I eased into the back seat, and the driver had barely closed the door on Carter before he pulled me into his lap. Luckily, we had a privacy window blocking the driver’s vision of us.
“You’re going to mess up my hair and make-up.” I fussed while loving his rather rough treatment of me.
As the driver pulled away from the house, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small dark object, and took a silver egg out of the case. “Open your legs.”
“Is that what I think it is?” I whispered while I pulled up my dress.
“He can’t hear us.” Carter sounded amused before he put the egg into his mouth and then easily pushed it inside of me. “You must be already wet.”
I held his hand to my pussy. “I get wet just thinking of you.”
He inhaled deeply before he said hoarsely, “Two hours and we’re out. An hour if there’s no dancing.”
The heaviness and the smooth feel of the egg inside me only made me hornier, and I started kissing his cologne-scented neck. “I don’t think I’m going to make thirty minutes.”
