Wild Temptation (Wild, #1)(66)
I open the lid and shove aside the tissue paper. Pale-pink chiffon fills my gaze—not quite baby pink but not quite peach. With shaking hands, I reach out and grab the thick straps. I lift it out, standing as I do.
It’s low cut. Very low cut, actually. There’s no way I can wear a bra with it, but the flowing material from below the bustline falls until roughly my knees. I stare at it for…ages. I don’t know how long, but I only stop when my arms begin to ache.
I… Wow.
I carefully lay it out on the sofa, shoving Angus to one side so he doesn’t ruin it. He meows affectedly and jumps back onto his window ledge.
My eyes find a small envelope in the middle of the box and I lift it out.
You told me you couldn’t go to the party because you’d have nothing to wear. Like you wouldn’t fit in there. You would and you will, and I wasn’t kidding when I said you could wear a paper bag and still look gorgeous. You will.
Still, you need more convincing. So here—a dress that will go with those Louboutins perfectly. I want you in it when I pick you up on Saturday night at 6:30.
You should never feel inferior to the people you’ll easily outshine.
T
Wow.
Wow, wow, wow.
That’s about the only thought I can form at the moment. In fact, I can’t do anything but fight the burn in my eyes.
No wonder he was so pissed off tonight. I’d be angry at me, too. I wish he’d fucking told me he’d done this—at least then I could have apologized for something I didn’t know I was doing on a date I didn’t know was happening.
But still. The guy bought me a dress because he doesn’t want me to feel like I don’t belong at his cousin’s party. And then I was a bit of a bitch to him.
I drop the paper and grab my phone. My eyes fill with angry, guilty tears as I bring up my text messages and click on his name.
You are the sweetest asshole I’ve ever met. Thank you.
His response is almost immediate.
No coming round to kick my ass?
Not this time. I’m sorry about earlier.
Me too. I was a bit of an ass.
A bit?
Ha. Funny girl. By the way, Liv?
What?
It was still a date.
My lips curve infinitesimally. “I know,” I whisper.
I know. Not much of a first date. You’ll need a do-over on Saturday.
My phone rings. His name flashes on the screen, and I answer. Before I can say anything, he says, “Saturday will be the best first date of your damn life, woman. Don’t doubt it for a fucking second. Be ready for six thirty or I’ll be forced to spank you.”
He hangs up on my gasp.
Holy.
Crapping.
Hell.
I’m wearing the dress.
And I’m late.
And I’m not particularly caring right now, because Tyler Stone in a suit is the sexiest thing this side of the motherfrigging universe.
The deep-navy jacket is tailored to him and hugs him perfectly while his matching pants are perfectly pressed but still show the curve of his tight ass. From shiny shoes to a perfectly knotted black tie, he looks fucking hot. Really sexy. Handsome. I don’t even know.
“Are you done looking yet?”
“No.” I drink him in with my eyes once more. “I think I might have to go commando. You and a suit together should come with some kind of panty-wetting warning.”
A smug smirk curls his lips. “Get in the car, Liv.” He opens the door and it bumps me into his body. “And we’ll see if I can’t do something about those wet panties.” He practically shoves me into the back seat and presses a button on a small intercom. “Drive for a while.”
He practically shoves me into the back seat and presses a button on a small intercom. “Drive for a while.”
That’s it. No questions asked. Drive while I do whatever I’m planning to do to the woman in the back of this car.
Tyler shifts in his seat and stares at me. Every part of me.
“I knew this dress would be perfect for you.” He takes my clutch from my fingers and drops it on the seat behind me. “Didn’t realize how much I’d want you out of it though,” he whispers, coming closer. “It’s been too long since I tasted you.”
“It’s been, like, three days.”
“Precisely.” His eyes burn into mine. “Too long. Lie back.”
When I don’t move, he presses his hands against my shoulders and pushes.
“I said lie back. Now.”
Helpless to fight both his heated command and his strength, I lie back against the seat. I hook one arm over the back to steady myself and curl the fingers of my other hand around the edge of the seat.
Tyler’s fingers creep up my legs and across the silky smoothness of my stockings, edging my dress up. He pauses when he reaches the top of them and rubs his thumb along the lace.