I pursed my mouth and climbed on my high horse. “So you already just assumed that I have nothing better to do with my time, that I’m just waiting around at your beck and call? Let me remind you, Mr. Billionaire, that though we may be married, I am not your wife. I am not your arm candy. I am not your sex toy.”
“Whoa,” Chris said, “I just want you to come to a black-tie party with me, not dress up in a sexy ice-cream-girl outfit and make me a banana split.”
My brain helpfully supplied me a graphic image of his thick, erect cock under the sheets.
Not helping!
“Please come!” Chris begged, grabbing my hands. “This is an important event for me. Everyone knows I’m married. I cannot show up without my wife. People will talk. You know how these upper-class high-society types are. Any sign of weakness, and it’s like piranhas at the Golden Corral buffet.”
He wassoattractive. I was a sucker for a pretty face.
“You’re really going to throw me to the wolves?”
“No,” I said, “but I want something out of it. I don’t work for free.”
“Anything,” Chris said. “What would you like?”
You.
No.
“You can have anything,” he promised. “Within reason.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t know what I wanted.
Yes, you do. You want his banana split.
I racked my brain. I just wanted the high ground. “You can owe me a favor.”
He smirked. “Like a sexual favor?”
“I hope you will have better manners at this event.”
* * *
Chris disappearedinto his oversized master suite when we arrived back at the penthouse. I went into my bedroom, where a rack of obscenely skimpy dresses were waiting for me.
“That asshole!”
I snapped a photo and sent them to my friends.
Grace:Can you believe the nerve of this man!
Brea:OMG those are Kenzie Sky dresses! They’re like five thousand dollars each!
Sophie:Wear the blue one!
Elsie:Black. Nothing better than a little black dress.
Grace:Excuse me, I’m not wearing these. They’re practically stripper dresses!
Brea:Don’t listen to her, my pretties! You’re hurting the dresses’ feelings.
Ivy:Just pick the least revealing one.
Elsie:Not the gold one. That looks like you’re going to a swinger party.
I tried on the dresses one by one, each one making me more furious than the last. Not only were they ridiculously sexy, they were too small. One of them was so tight I wouldn’t be able to wear any underwear with it, or walk more than an inch or two at a time to avoid flashing people.
