Page 33 of Personal Escort

She’s out of view completely now, and I can hear her talking to herself as she sorts the first dress out. “This one might need a bra… Damn it. Where is my strapless… Oh, fuck it, I’ll go without.”

That should probably be filed under too much information, but my dick does not agree. He is more than willing to provide fashion commentary on how the dress looks with or without a bra.

He is an animal.

I close my eyes again.

“Okay,” she says, her voice louder, and I open my eyes.

“Wow.” I sit up straight and lean forward, taking in the knee-length cocktail dress. It’s a warm yellow, floaty and perfect. She looks like sunshine and happiness in it. “That’s gorgeous.”

And she doesn’t need a bra in it. My pants get tighter at the slight sway of her breasts beneath the fabric.

She does a little twirl. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

She stops and frowns at me. “You changed your camera.”

“I did. I put you on my computer with the push of a button. We’ve got an app for that.”

“Fun.” She grins. “Busy doing CEO stuff while I changed?”

Like imagining her naked? “Yeah. Always gotta multi-task.”

She spreads her arms wide. “Okay, so this is option one.” She holds up her index finger. “Be right back.”

She dashes into her room, and again the door doesn’t close all the way.

Again, I stare at that space and hate myself for how hard I get at the glimpses of her body.

This time, I’m watching when she pokes her head out of her room and looks toward the camera. I see the nervous moment of hesitation, then the way she draws on an inner strength and pushes herself into the hallway.

“Show me,” I growl, and she gives a shy smile as she swishes her way toward me.

This dress is on a whole other level. It’s sexy and magical, with a tight, fitted bodice covered in an overlay of some sort, then an endlessly long skirt that billows and flows as she walks, revealing a teasing slit up one side.

More leg to drive me wild.

When she stops in front of the camera, it’s like she’s at the end of a catwalk, arms akimbo and her face a fierce mask.

“You like this one best,” I say confidently.

She lifts her chin. “Yes.”

“I do, too.”

That’s what she wanted to hear—and it’s the truth.

She beams at me, then ducks her head.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t know if it was too much. If I could pull it off. It’s so…”

Sexy. It’s the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen in my life. Or maybe that’s just because Cara is in it.

“It’s a bit out there. A statement, maybe. And I realized…this is the type of dress I’d pick to actually get married in, you know? I worry I’m wasting it on a mock event.”

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