We drive past blingy boutiques, and even if they’re not me, they are dripping with class, and they are dripping with style.
Finally, we pull over, and Harry gets out fast. He walks around the limo and holds my door wide. “Out.”
“What?”
“Chop, chop!”
I climb out, still wearing my black leather trousers, my tight T-shirt, and trainers.
I look around, then follow him in his fancy navy suit. “I feel like a peasant.”
Harry looks back at me and tosses over his shoulder, “Your words, not mine.”
We cross the fancy road, and I mutter away to myself. As we walk past the most amazing fashion brands in the world, he yanks my hand. “Come on, woman.”
It’s hard to keep up, but he slows, looking confused about where to go. Suddenly, he stops as if lost. “Look, it’s a fancy event, and I have a black dinner suit. The country’s top movie executives and finance people will be there. I need you to look amazing.”
I squint at him.
“Okay, as good as always.”
I put my hands on my hips and give Harry a look. “So how do you want to do this? You lead or follow? I’m thinking, follow, if you want it fast and with style.”
Harry steps aside, offering me his elbow. “Three things. I always like it fast, and I always like it with style. Plus, I am paying.”
I frown. “Are you sure about that?”
“Hundred percent.”
I relax. I just bought some cool street wear on Melrose, but Rodeo is not going to be an affordable fashion-buying experience.
19
SAMANTHA
Thirty minutes, and nine gowns later, I spin in front of a gold-framed mirror. The Christian Dior gown is beyond classy. It is black, it has style, and it is timeless.
“Too hot?” I ask, spinning.
“Too sexy,” I hear from Husky, once Grumpy, in the corner.
“It’s not sexy, what’s with you?” I ask, confused. Our eyes meet, and I raise a brow.
“Look, if you got out every now and then, you’d be less, you know, all fired up and finding anything hot…”
Grumpy growls like a caged wolf.
“I’m just saying,” I tease him. “I have a few friends in town. They could help you out.”
Our eyes meet, and his go dark. He walks up behind me, and we look at each other in the mirror. “I will not fuck any of your friends to, you know, calm down or whatever.”
I sigh inside, feeling relieved. It was a weird bluff and stupid of me. Harry steps closer, close enough to kiss my neck. “I don’t want your friends.”
Before I can say anything, I feel him closer. His hands then rest on my hips. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and he is ready. Ready to take me. I lean back and feel his chest. Our eyes hold, and I know this is it.
Kiss my neck.
Kiss my neck.
