Page 9 of Tame Me

Because if that hell had never happened, then this year would never have happened, either.

I smiled as I sipped my wine and turned my attention to the future rather than my past. My immediate future involved a smoking-hot cowboy, reminding me yet again of just how good life was. The lovely affirmation was like a balm to my soul, and I eased back, pushed my shoulders beneath the water, and closed my eyes.

The water was barely lukewarm when I finally hopped out and dried myself. I released my hair and fiddled around with it for a while, trying a new style Lolita had suggested I wear next Saturday night.

Separating out my fringe, I pulled a portion of hair back and plumped it up, creating some height at the back of my head, and pinned it in place. Then, using my curling wand, I put loose curls into the length that fell down and around my shoulders.

My arms were aching by the time I’d finished, but it was worth it. The new hairstyle was fancy. Perfect for a night out with Billy and perfect for one of my new outfits.

After applying a touch of makeup, I decided I’d wear the new dress Lolly had insisted I buy for my Friday night in Mildura.

I pulled the dress out of the closet and placed it on the bed. It was a wrap dress, a style I’d learned suited me very well. The color was red, not as bright as fire engine red, and not as deep as blood red—it was somewhere in between and was patterned with white spots. The neckline was fairly low, showing off ample cleavage, which was something I would never have done before this year.

I chose a white lace G-string and, for a little cheekiness, decided not to wear a bra. I curled the dress behind my back, wrapped the belt around, and tied it off in the center, at my waist.

For accessories I chose my long string of fake pearls and wrapped them around my neck three times, twice close to my neck and once long enough that it fell between my breasts. I chose matching earrings and a bracelet, and a pair of white six-inch-high stilettos.

When I stood before the mirror, I was fascinated by my appearance. It was still so hard to comprehend that it was my reflection. I spun around, allowing the skirt to flare. I looked beautiful, but it was more than that—I felt beautiful, too. The smile on my face was genuine and impossible to remove.

With those wonderful feelings coursing through me, I grabbed a white clutch, tossed my bits and pieces into it, and strode out my door.

Billy was in room fifteen, just two doors up from my room. I knocked once, and barely two heartbeats later, he opened the door.

His jaw dropped and he blinked. His reaction was the pinnacle to my already wonderful feelings. He kissed my cheek, and I inhaled his sexy, familiar scent. With his hand on the small of my back, he led me into the room and the door closed behind us.

Two champagne glasses were nestled next to an ice bucket on the kitchen counter, and assuming they were for us, I strode that way, placed my clutch onto the counter, and slipped into the barstool. The split in my skirt fell aside, revealing more of my legs than I’d usually showed, yet I resisted the urge to cover myself. I was pleased I didn’t when I saw Billy glance at my legs.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look handsome yourself.” For the first time, Billy wasn’t wearing jeans. Instead, he wore dark blue slacks and a crisp white button-up shirt, which he’d tucked into his pants. His belt buckle was a large silver oval decorated with a bucking bronco and a rider.

He reached for the champagne. “I took the liberty of ordering us a drink. Would you like one?”

“I’d love one, thank you.”

Despite Billy’s cotton shirt covering his upper body, it was impossible to miss his toned muscles as he worked the cork from the bottle. It released with a loud pop, slamming into the ceiling, and bubbles spewed from the bottle.

“Oh, shit.” Billy raced to the sink, and we both giggled as we worked together to clean up the mess.

The incident was a nice relaxant, and after that, the conversation flowed freely.

We sipped our drinks out on the balcony and talked about all sorts of trivial things. The champagne warmed up my insides and loosened my curiosity, and soon I was doing Lolita’s trick, and asking Billy heaps of questions.

It was lovely just chatting, and I could’ve stayed there all night if my stomach hadn’t started grumbling. I tried to ignore the pain, but it was impossible. “So, where are we going for dinner?”

“Oh.” The startled look on Billy’s face indicated he’d forgotten all about food. “I found a nice-looking steak restaurant around the corner.”

“Steakside?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Is it okay?”

“It’s lovely.” My stomach made little mewling noises in approval.

“Shall we take a walk then?” He stood and offered his hand, helping me rise to my feet. I drew up to his chest, placed my hands over his defined pecs, and gazed into his gorgeous molten-honey eyes.

Barely a breath later, I closed my eyes and our lips met. I melted into his embrace and curled one hand up around to the back of his neck, urging him for more. Our moans united, as did our tongues. His fingers caressed my cheek, and as he reached around my back with his other hand I drew up on my tippy toes, positioning our hips together.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, but it said so much more—I want. I need. It was a kiss that said our relationship had slipped right on past casual, and as I pushed my tongue into his mouth, probing to taste more of him, I was delightfully happy that it had.

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