Page 35 of Vicious Sentiments

“These aregowns,” I whisper to him, not trying to draw any attention from the snooty women running the place.

“Just try something on. It will be fun.”

“If I was going to the red carpet,” I hiss, slipping a tag between my fingers.

My eyes bulge when it says eighteen-thousand dollars. I immediately drop it and turn around, determinedly heading towards the exit.

Firm hands clasp my shoulders and march me back around. “Live a little,” Julian whispers in my ear.

There is no appeasing him. It doesn’t matter how many times I walk in circles around the store, he wants me to try one on. After ten minutes of refusing, he plucks a dress from a rack, one of a kind, and grabs my hand.

In the back, a cylinder of mirrors and tufted benches circle a podium that I assume is for tailoring. He lays the dress in my arms and positions himself in a seat, hands clasped behind his head.

“If it makes you feel any better, we won’t buy it.”

I huff and whip back a curtain to change.

The dress fits like a glove, as if it were made for me. I stare at myself in the mirror and despite myself, do a small twirl. The ends flare out, trailing after me. I lift my hair above my head and raise my chin, thinking if Marney was here she would be snapping pictures. I feel like I’m going to the Oscars or a gala, or the white house for crying out loud.

“Are you really going to deprive me?” Julian says from the other side of the curtain.

I bite my lip, pick up my train, and pull the curtain back.

Embarrassment instantly burns my cheeks. I feel like a girl playing dress up. But Julian’s eyes glimmer, slowly soaking in my body. Without taking his eyes off of me, he stands, closing the space between us and brushes the hair back from my shoulder.

“Gorgeous.” He spins me around to face the mirror. In awe, I take us in. Between the dress and his chiseled jaw hovering above me, his lean arm latched around my waist, we look like a celebrity couple.

With a fever in his eyes, he whispers, “Isn’t this fun?” He tucks his lips next to my ear. “I would never steer you wrong.”

My knees grow weak feeling his breath in my ear, and as if he expected it, his arm tightens around me. His cheek brushes against mine and I lean into him. The feel of his solid body pressed against my back makes me lightheaded and I can’t help myself as I turn my head, tilting my chin up.

Julian’s eyes smolder as they sear into mine. His face is only a breath away from mine. With the proximity I can already imagine what his lips will taste like and if I don’t get to find out exactly, my heart might explode.

His head dips and my eyes flutter closed in anticipation, my body giving out as he holds me tight. I feel the faintest touch of his lips on mine, like velvet and sin, but he doesn’t press them, just grazes, parted and teasing, his breath seeping through, tickling my tongue.

A tiny squeak of desperation escapes me, and I feel his lips shift. I open my eyes to find a wicked smile.

“Not yet, baby.” He speaks into my lungs and then pivots, kissing my cheek.

* **

I’m left wanting as we grab a bite to eat. Well, it was supposed to be a bite to eat but Julian has ordered me three different things. A club sandwich, chili cheese fries, and chicken strips. The place is a quaint outdoor area, and despite the menu, still costs a fortune.

With a self satisfied smile, Julian sips his iced tea as I swoop between dishes, shoveling it all in, trying to fill the void that his lack of kiss caused in me. That, and everything is so good, and I’m starving. The last few meals I’ve had have stretched my stomach, putting all the years of surviving on scraps behind me.

“I’m not that hungry,” Julian quotes me.

“Not yet, baby,”I counter, just a touch of bitterness in my voice.

I’m not used to being rejected, having never been the one to go for it. It’s not a good feeling. Couple that with the small amount of power I gained from shutting down Cape, and then having it devastated by the kiss on my cheek, I’m feeling annoyed.

What’s even the point of waiting till I am eighteen? A made up number by society when in actuality our brains aren’t even fully developed till we are twenty-five anyways.

I think I should get to make my own choice. I’ve never wanted a kiss, not a single time I can ever remember wanting one, instead having them forced on me, and for once I finally,finally,want one and I’m turned down. The injustice of that alone puts a scowl on my face as I take a bite of the sandwich.

“Does that upset you?” His tone is playful.

I don’t answer, since he knows damn well it does.

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