Page 5 of About Last Night

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MINUTES LATER, they were still struggling to get all the pieces in place. Marie grunted behind her and jerked the bustier tighter. "Inhale and hold it."

"I thought you said this was a little big," Janine gasped, afraid to exhale. "I think you detached a rib."

"For Steve's sake, I hope this thing is easier to remove than it is to get on." With a final yank, Marie straightened and backed away. "Where are those black heels you bought when we were at the mall a few months ago?" She walked to the closet.

"You mean those shoes you made me buy because they were such a great deal but they weren't such a great deal because I've never worn them?"

"Yeah."

"On the bottom shelf in the orange box."

Marie went to the closet, and emerged, triumphant. After Janine stepped into the shoes, she stared in the full-length mirror at the pink-and-black creation: the boned pink satin bustier pushed her breasts to incredible heights and left her shoulders bare above black ruffly trim. Black laces crisscrossed her back, and Marie had tied them off with a large bow at the top. The matching panties were cut high on the legs, veeing below her navel, and trimmed with more frothy lace. The black garter belts connecting the bottom of the bustier with the top of her thigh-high black hose were drawn so tight, she was sure if they popped, she'd be maimed for life. "I look like a call girl."

Behind her, Marie laughed. "You look awesome! You hide that fab figure of yours. Believe me, Steve won't know what hit him. You two will be so exhausted after tonight, you'll have to postpone the wedding."

Maybe it was the effects of the wine, but she had to admit she was feeling pretty sexy, albeit a little shaky, in her stilettos. "But what will I do?"

"I'll drop you off at the resort, and you can surprise him."

She looked down. "I'll be arrested if I walk into the hotel like this."

Her sister went back to the closet and returned carrying a black all-weather coat. "Here."

Janine shrugged into the coat and belted it.

"See—perfectly innocent," Marie said. "No one will ever know that beneath the coat is a red-hot siren getting ready to go off."

"But what will I do for clothes tomorrow?"

"Are you serious? You two won't leave that room. Don't worry, I'll come early and bring your outfit for the rehearsal dinner. Now let's get going before you lose your nerve."

Janine grabbed Marie's arm. "I think I should call his room first."

"But this is supposed to be a surprise!"

"But what if he isn't there? I mean, what if the guys stay out late?"

Marie checked her watch. "It's after midnight, and it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the resort."

"But if they went out, the bars are still open."

Her sister sighed. "Okay, you can call his room, but no talking—if he answers, just hang up."

"Agreed." She picked up her phone and searched for the hotel, then connected the call.

"Medallion House," a man said. "How can I help you?"

Janine swallowed hard. "Steve Larsen's room."

"Please hold."

When the phone started ringing, for the briefest second she hoped he wouldn't answer, to let her off the hook. Shewasalittle tipsy, after all, and things would most likely make sense again in the morning. Their relationship was strong, and their sex life would probably be great after they were married.

But on the third ring, he picked up the phone. "Hello?" he mumbled, obviously roused from sleep.

A thrill skittered through her at the sound of his smoky voice. He wasn't out at the strip clubs with the guys after all—not that she'd been worried.

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