Page 56 of Embracing Us

Chapter twenty-four

Linda

Rhiann sits at my dressing table, applying another coat of mascara to her lashes. She leans forward, peering into the mirror, precisely covering each lash. Not dressed yet, she’s been stalking around my room in her bra and knickers as we debated what to wear. Max appeared ten minutes ago, opening the door and promptly turning around to leave again.

“I think you should wear that red dress, Linda,” she says, again. “You look smoking hot in it.” I stand, staring in the full-length mirror at my reflection. The bodycon dress clings to my curves, highlighting every dip before finishing halfway down my thighs. The deep V-shaped neckline emphasises my breasts which are pushed up fully in my best bra. The dress isn’t mine; it’s Rhiann’s, and probably a size too small. But it stretches, so she says that doesn’t matter.

“I’m married,” I repeat for the tenth time.

“So, you can be married and still look fucking hot.” The second bottle of champagne we opened has started to take effect. “Show all those men what they’re missing out on.” She winks exaggeratedly, then overbalances and almost falls off the stool.

“At the rate you’re going, we may not even make the club.” She laughs loudly, her breasts vibrating in her bra. “You need to sober up a bit.”

“Nonsense,” she exclaims, waving my comment away. “Let me put my dress on and we will be going.” She stands, totters over in the huge heels with thin straps she’s wearing to the bed and picks up the tight black dress that’s been laid out in preparation.

“Are your feet sore already? We’ve not even danced a step,”

“No, no. This is the way I walk. I call it my sexy strut,” she retorts, then wiggles her ass at me. It jiggles merrily. She picks up the minute-looking dress and eyes it sceptically. It looks made for a doll, not a full-sized adult woman.

“That’s more like an ankle-breaking wobble. If you don’t break your leg, you’ll break your neck,” I say.

“I’m more concerned that this scrap of material will expand enough to cover my assets. I don’t want to be flashing the goods before someone makes an offer.” She grins and lifts her eyebrows. “I could do with some action. I’m sure there will be cobwebs down there it’s been so long.”

“Finding you a man will be my number one priority this holiday.”

“I don’t need a man, Linda,” she replies with a wink. “I need his cock.”

Thirty minutes later, we are navigating the stairs down towards the bar in the hotel. I went with the red dress. Rhiann is right – I look hot. This is my first night out since becoming a married woman without my husband. In all honesty, I could count on one hand the number of girls' nights out I’ve had in the past ten years.

As we enter the bar, Max looks up from the cocktail he’s making. His eyes darken as he takes in my appearance, the familiar look he gets when he sets his sights on me flitting across his face. Rhiann and I walk over, climbing up on a barstool each. She smiles broadly at him.

“Doesn’t your wife look fuckable this evening,” she says.

“Completely,” he agrees with a glance in my direction. “New dress?”

“It’s Rhiann’s.” He nods, then continues to stir whatever he’s making. It looks lethal, and judging by the number of alcoholic beverages laid out across the bar, it will be. “What are you making?”

“Something you won’t be drinking,” he replies. “It will knock you flat on your back.” He flashes me a sexy smile. “And I’m the only thing on this earth, Linda Gordon, that is allowed to put you on your back.” My breath catches in my throat. He can be so naughty when the mood takes him. “Do these lovely ladies want a glass of wine?” He looks between my friend and me.

“Yes, please,” we reply together. He reaches up, taking down two wine glasses suspended on racks above his head. His t-shirt lifts, exposing his flat stomach, the defined abs clear to see. Rhiann’s eyes widen, and her mouth drops open slightly as she openly ogles my husband. I lean over to her, tapping her shoulder with a single finger. She glances at me.

“He’s mine,” I whisper. “Eyes off.”

“Please tell me he has a brother,” he mutters, and I shake my head. “A cousin?” she adds hopefully.

“Neither, sorry.” If Max hears the exchange, he doesn’t let on. He pours us a glass of wine each, then retreats from behind the counter and starts collecting glasses that are scattered around the room. It’s not busy, but a few groups of women are in, enjoying a drink with friends. As he places the empty glasses on the bar beside me, his hand pinches my ass.

“You look incredible, Beautiful,” he says. “Wait till you get home later. I’ll be ripping that fucking dress from your body. If any man approaches you, you have my permission to kick him in the nuts. Maybe I need to send a security guard with you tonight.” I turn to face him, biting my lip exaggeratedly.

“There is only one man for me,” I tell him. “No one else would ever stand a chance.” Rhiann hisses audibly through her teeth. We both focus on her, interested in what the issue is.

“Are you two always like this?” she asks.

“Like what?” I say, unsure of what she means.

“So,” she pauses. Her mind whirling as she contemplates what to say as it mixes with the copious volume of alcohol in her system. “In love.”

I laugh out loud, then turn to Max and kiss him gently on the lips. He lifts a hand to my hair, twisting a strand between his fingers.

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