The last four days have been murder on my self-control. Vincent, the bastard, has taken great delight in teasing me at every opportunity before leaving me at my door with a chaste kiss and a promise to call the next day.
He always calls, taking the opportunity to slip in a sly innuendo and the odd sexual tease. I’m sick of being respected. I want him to take advantage of me already, for as long as my body will allow, in every position it can contort into.
“Are you finally going to do the deed?”
I rise from the sofa and glare at the little bag on the coffee table.
“Here’s to hoping. That lingerie cost a goddamned fortune.”
I’d buckled under Bee’s advice and taken a trip to VS this morning. The little black bustier and matching thong are a last ditch effort to break Vincent’s control, and with the price tag they’d come with, I really hope it works.
“Mama Bee will never steer you wrong, Sis. I wore something similar one time after Eric and I had a huge fight. He ended up apologizing to me, and I’m woman enough to admit I was wrong that time.”
I grin and grab my bag, swinging it to and fro as I make my way to my bedroom, Bee hot on my heels.
“I’m gonna help you exfoliate and get your wax job looking like a million bucks,” she says, giving me the chills. “And don’t cry so much about it this time. Beauty is pain.”
My skin literally shrinks when she disappears into the bathroom and comes out bearing her gloves of torture and tweezers.
This is going to be painful.
Chapter Eight
“You seem nervous.”
I swallow back a snarl and shake my head, keeping my gaze trained on the traffic streaming beside us as Vincent pulls up in front of his town house.
I am nervous, and not because I don’t look great. I really do. Bee had exfoliated and moisturized me so thoroughly my skin is literally glowing, and done something really sexy with my blonde curls that make me look like a beach goddess.
I look and feel like a million bucks—I just wish it would give me a magical power when it comes to the whole seduction thing. I’m not exactly experienced, and the one time I’d gone all the way—the night I’d lost my virginity to Rob Green…oh, and my epic flop with Graham, that makes two—I hadn’t exactly been a sex goddess.
I’ve read books and watched porn and surfed the net, but I am way in over my head with a man like Vincent. His very pores exude sexy, while I feel like Cinderella with a thirty minute curfew before I turn into the pumpkin.
“Dove, what’s the problem?” he asks after coming around and opening my door.
“Nothing,” I say, preceding him through the front door. “I’m just a little preoccupied. I have to go over to Vern’s tomorrow, and that security thing…” I say, waving his concern away.
He eyes me skeptically and takes my coat, whistling when he reveals the skin tight plum jersey dress I’m rocking with a pair of sky high heels.
“That dress is—are you intending to paint in that?”
A smile breaks free, quelling my nerves, and I raise a brow.
“Are you saying I can keep it on tonight?” I ask cheekily, chuckling when he growls and firmly shakes his head.
“Not on your life. Have you had dinner?”
“Yeah, I grabbed Chinese with Bee and Eric.”
Maybe that’s why I’m in such a funk all of a sudden. I’ve always liked Eric, but tonight I’d seen a side to the guy that gives me the willies. I now understand why he’s been lavishing Bee with clothes and shoes and every accessory money can buy. He wants to have control over everything she wears, everywhere she goes, and tonight, everything she eats.
I feel like a royal failure as a friend that I hadn’t noticed how much weight Bee has dropped in the last couple of weeks, and now that I have, I know why.
Eric had gone mental when she’d tried to order her own food, and I’d watched her pick at a portion that wouldn’t fill a five-year-old before finally shoving it aside.
When I see her tomorrow I am so having a heart to heart with her about that asshole.
“Dove, I’m trying to be patient here, but your mood is starting to worry me,” he finally sighs, making me aware of the time that’s passed while I’ve been wool gathering.
Of course he’s annoyed. It’s not like me to ignore everything around me, especially not him. Nope, I’m usually so hyper aware of him I hang on his every breath. Like a goddamned dog waiting for a treat.
I get really annoyed then, and I lash out, feeling as insecure about this situation as I know Bee feels right now.
Why should I be the one chasing him? I’ve done everything he wants, gone to his parties, worn his choice of clothes, and I’ve spent days throwing myself at him.