I don’t respond immediately, trying to think of what to answer. I shouldn’t make her doubt herself minutes before we leave, but I also try to be truthful whenever possible. “It looks nice, yes,” I say. “I prefer it wild and messy, though.”
She laughs. “Well, gala night calls for the opposite of that. But don’t worry, it’ll return to normal as soon as it gets wet.”
“Good.” I bend to kiss her, but she avoids me.
“Lipstick,” she explains.
“You mean I won’t get to kiss you the entire night?!”
“You’ll get to kiss me all you want after. Now, before we go,” she says, ripping herself away from me and twisting around. “Can you see my panty line?”
I look down, never one to refuse an opportunity to stare at her ass. “A little, yes.”
“Ugh, Mason’s friend was right. I can’t wear anything under this dress.”
She hesitates for a second before reaching through the slit high on her thigh. I watch as she shimmies it down her legs and then picks it up. With the delicate black lace in hand, she wonders what to make of it. “Give it to me,” I suggest.
“How naughty of you, Mr. Coleman,” she teases while handing me her discarded underwear.
I ball it up and slip it into my pocket. “It’ll serve as a reminder of what awaits after the gala,” I explain. “Now, can we go?”
“Yep. I just need to grab my coat.”
I offer her my arm, chivalrous, and she hooks hers with it, grinning with delight. Once we’re out on the street, she gapes at the limousine double-parked in front of her building’s entrance—a little surprise I planned for her.
“You got us a limo?!” she exclaims.
“It’s your first gala, so I thought I’d give you the fullexperience.”
With an incredulous giggle, she walks to the driver standing by the door. He opens it for us, I let her in first and then quickly join her in the luxurious space. There’s a bottle of champagne and two flutes waiting for us in an ice bucket, and I pour us two glasses once we’re off.
Andrea struggles to find a proper thing to toast to, so I suggest, “To your pretty dress and to me ripping it off later tonight.”
She snorts, and when I try to tap my glass with hers, she prevents it. “No, we need something better. Hmm… To forgiveness and growth.”
That’s definitely a good one for us, so I allow her glass to clink with mine. While she only takes a sip of her champagne, I down mine in one go.
“Are you nervous about tonight?” she intuitively asks.
“Not exactly, but I hate these evenings. The crowd, the noise, the overload of things happening everywhere… Plus, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea. I know you didn’t want me to miss Eva’s gala, but I promise I would have been fine not going, freckles.”
“But I wouldn’t have. I don’t want to be a bitch who doesn’t let anyone near you. Not when you work so hard to prove how much you love me, and how you couldn’t possibly want anyone else. You deserve my trust, Lex. You’ve earned it ten times over. And tonight, going there together is my way of showing you how much I mean it.”
I don’t know why it affects me as much as it does, but my chest tightens at her words. What she said all those weeks ago about having to win her trust back is still fresh in my mind. Knowing I did feels like the most amazing of gifts.
When I bend over to kiss her, she twists away. “Lipstick.”
Fuck, right. “Can I kiss you here?” I ask, grazing the soft expanse of her throat.
“Knock yourself out, baby,” she approves, tilting her head to the side to give me better access.
I bend and kiss her right there, sensing the pulse of her heart right against my lips. She sighs when I lay a second, more insistent kiss. Then I do it like I would her mouth, using my tongue and teeth, doing the best I can with what I have.
“Lex, I’m not wearing underwear,” she reminds me.
“As if I could fucking forget.”
“If I get out of this car and there’s a wet spot on the back of my dress, I will build a doghouse with my own hands so you can sleep in it for the next week.”
