Page 2 of One Night Bride
The set did look kind of granny-like when I saw it through the lens of a vacation where I hoped to pick up a man, but they’d worked well under my work outfit. I grabbed the tiny panties Vee threw at me and wiggled into them, relieved I’d remembered to book a waxing appointment yesterday. These things left it all on display.
“What bra?” I asked, surveying what she’d put in the suitcase and what had ended up in a rejection heap on the floor.
“No bra! Girl, you are twenty-four years old. Those tits aren’t going to be perky forever. Have you seen Yedda at the beach?” Vee’s whole body shivered at the mention of the old lady in town who owned the National Cat Protection Society. We all loved her, but her skin did lack the necessary collagen to keep things in place. Gravity was a cruel bitch. “You need to put them front and center while you still can! Besides, the straps on this dress are too thin for a bra. Embrace your inner slut. I know she’s in there, silently screaming in agony when you put on those suit pants.”
“I wear suit pants because I have a job, Vee. It’s that thing you do to make money, so you can live your life and not leech off Mom and Dad forever,” I said dryly.
Vee clutched her chest in shock. “Ouch!” Then she gave me a dirty look. “I know what a job is, big sis. I’ve been in school.”
I slid the sundress over my head and shook out my long black hair. “I know and graduating in three years is awesome. It’s just the applying for grad school that has me concerned. Don’t turn into one of those career students who goes from degree to degree, but never starts a career. It’s just a piece of paper at the end of the day.”
Vee sniffed. “I won’t. In fact, one of my professors has taken me under his wing and is providing excellent guidance.”
A warning bell clanged in my head, but maybe that was just my normal caution because of my vocation. “A male professor, huh? Well, just be careful. Keeping students re-enrolling pays his salary.”
Vee’s cheeks pinked, which I thought interesting. The girl never got embarrassed. My phone dinged with a different sound, a reminder that I had to get in the car right now if I was to get to the airport in time. I’d have to question Vee later.
“I have to go,” I muttered, slipping my feet into tan peep-toe stilettos and grabbing my laptop bag.
Vee jumped, shoved something into my suitcase and zipped it shut for me. “I’ll drive!”
“It’s okay, I can park my car at the airport.”
Vee nearly ran out the door, my suitcase rolling behind her. “No way. The twenty-minute drive will give me time to pump you up.”
I followed after her, shaking my head while I went over the list of things I had to accomplish before I left town. “Pump me up for what?” It wasn’t a horrible idea. If she drove, I could fire off a few more emails before I had to shut my phone down for the flight.
“For your sex-cation of course!” Vee nearly shouted on my front porch, waiting for me to lock up the house. Thankfully, my neighbors were far enough away, they probably didn’t hear of my upcoming sexual debauchery.
Hefting the laptop bag higher on my shoulder and depositing the house keys in a pocket where I’d remember them, I surveyed my house and the stunning view overlooking the ocean. I loved my home and my job, but for the next forty-eight hours I’d ditch the pant suits and dive headfirst into the ocean of sin called Lake Tahoe. Vee didn’t even need to give me a pep talk. I was already one hundred percent in on the plan to blow out the cobwebs between my legs.
I looked down when I heard Vee grunt. She just barely got my suitcase in the back of her tiny Volkswagen Bug. Stepping down the stairs carefully in my heels, I went around to the passenger side and climbed in, probably flashing all the dolphins in the ocean with this short dress.
“Okay, so let’s talk about selection,” Vee said, starting her car and heading down my driveway. “You don’t necessarily want the richest guy in the room. They can be so full of themselves they don’t put much effort into the act, you know what I mean?”
I grinned, enjoying this conversation, as long as I didn’t stop to think why my baby sister knew so much about this topic.
“But I don’t want a fuckboy either,” I stated, thinking about that one guy I’d had a brief fling with who dressed nicer than me and wore his cap backwards.
“Oh God, no. They’re the worst!” Vee agreed. “You need a guy who’s hot and confident, but still willing to put in the effort to make sure you come five times before he does. It’s like hunting a unicorn, but I know they’re out there. They gotta be.” Vee trailed off, looking a little lost in her own thoughts.
“I don’t know. Ashley seems to have found one, based on her stories.” My lips puckered just forming words that sounded complimentary about that woman.
Vee snorted again. “That woman is so full of shit her skin’s tan. She’s marrying Marc because he’s got money, not because he knows what to do in the bedroom.”
“I don’t know. She says he’s blown her world.”
Vee slapped the steering wheel. “Did you see them at the fair the other day? He had on gray sweatpants!”
Wow, Vee was really upset. “So?”
She gaped at me. “He almost single-handedly ruined men in gray sweatpants for me! There was nothing there. Like, smooth as a baby butt. If he’s rocking Ashley’s world, trust me, it ain’t with his micro dick. Maybe he’s got a forked tongue or something.”
I tossed back my head and laughed. God, I loved this girl. All that jealousy I’d been harboring over Ashley snagging a man vanished, quite like Marc’s dick. I may want a man, but I wanted Mr. Perfect, not Mr. Rich or Mr. Just Okay. I made my own fortune, so I didn’t need nor want to marry for money. I wanted a man who lit my freaking veins on fire with a single glance. Someone who made my brain dance with excitement in conversation. Someone who could fill my lonely nights and lonely heart.
Or at the very least, some excellent dick for forty-eight hours.
“I think I’ll hold out for the unicorn,” I sighed, hoping I’d find him in Lake Tahoe.
