I already chose an outfit. SomethingIbought. It’s a dress, but not the kind Alex made me wear. Not a flimsy, cute little thing with a floral pattern. No, this is navy blue, halter neck. Backless, midi-length with a slit halfway up my right thigh. It’selegant and classy. Sexy with how it hugs my frame and far from girly.
After years spent hiding my scars behind baggy clothes, and weeks of the hated baby-doll outfits Alex bought me, I’m finally finding my own sense of style.
The look in Carter’s eyes whenever he sees me naked has helped me overcome my insecurities. I’m no longer ashamed and I’ve stopped heaping concealer over the scars. He loves me just the way I am.
It’s time I learn to love myself too.
???
The VIP area inScarlettis different toDelta’s. Carter spent many hours designing this space and now I’m sipping a mojito in a high-end velvet loveseat, I love how it turned out.
We’re at the same level as the main club, separated from the dance floor by huge one-way mirrors. There’s a VIP-only bar and six bouncers strategically standing guard.
I smile at the oblivious dancers staring at themselves in the mirrors. They have no idea we’re here and people do funny things when they don’t realize they’re being watched. Women check their moves, practice coquettish looks, pull their dresses higher to show off more skin, while men mostly flex their muscles.
The VIP area is packed with lower-ranking soldiers, not important enough to join Carter, Dante, and their men in the back office. Aside from the mafia men, Carter’s introduced me to a few police officers sitting three tables away, some attorneys, journalists, boxers, and even the manager of the bank where we thought Alex had hidden the evidence.
They’re all enjoying the open bar and the women he hired for entertainment. Layla’s on the dancefloor with a few other girls, all of whom arrived with Dante’s entourage.
I considered following her out there, but the plug shifts whenever I move, so I stayed put. I’d probably end up having an orgasm in the middle of the dancefloor... no, thank you.
Although, if Carter doesn’t wrap up the meeting soon, I might do just that because I’m so incredibly hot and wet that every move sends tiny sparkles along my nerve endings.
Twenty more minutes pass before Carter exits the back office with Dante at his side and the rest of their entourage following suit. Broadway veers left, summoning the bartender, Koby stops by the table of hammered police officers, and everyone else returns to their seats from earlier.
“You look flushed, pretty girl,” Carter says, dropping down beside me. He drapes one arm over my shoulders, tugging me closer, and the plug inside me shifts, causing another fit of shivers.
“I take it you like your new jewelry.”
My fingers whiten around the glass. “Can we go home?”
“Not yet. Two more sizes.”
“What?! That’sfourhours!” I whisper-shout. God, I might not survive this. “I don’t think—” I pause, biting the inside of my cheek when Carter drags me even closer and I see stars. “It’s too intense, every time I move, I’m almostthere.”
“That’s the point, Hailey. Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me away from the table, ignoring his men’s curious eyes. Every step I take is measured. Each might shift the plug into that sensitive spot. I doubt I’d be able to hold my orgasm in check.
Carter pulls his phone out, tapping a short message as he stops by the elevator.
“Home?” I murmur, leaning into his chest.
“No, Hailey. I left the plugs in my car.”
I grit my teeth, still as a statue while my body hums with the need for release. The elevator dings and Carter ushers me inside. As soon as the metal doors slide shut, he pins me against the wall. His lips coming down on mine, the aftertaste of Bourbon on his tongue lighting up my mind. He moves his knee between my legs, spreading me open, and shoves his hand under my dress.
“So fucking wet,” he tuts, expertly rolling my clit under his fingers. “Give it to me, pretty girl. You’re so worked up you can barely hold yourself upright.”
“But...oh God!” I grip his biceps, my hips moving as I press myself further into his fingers, drunk on the overpowering need. “Ca-Ca...Carter,” I gasp, trembling all over. “Cameras.”
“Way ahead of you. They’re off. Now—”
He doesn’t get to give the order. He doesn’t get to count down. The moment he confirms no one’s watching I stop fighting and the orgasm slams into me so hard my vision blurs.
Carter takes my mouth, drinking every moan, one hand clasped around my back to hold me closer, the other still between my legs, every featherlight touch making me shudder.
“Wait here.” He stamps a kiss on my forehead and only when he moves me into the corner do I open my eyes.
We’re at the lowest level. He grounds the elevator, marching over to the passenger side of his car, less than twenty yards away, pulling a black velvet drawstring bag from the glovebox.
