Page 5 of Desirable

When I try on each dress, I imagine myself walking down the red carpet on Parker’s arm. It’s a vision too strange to fully accept. Each time I slide a dress down my shoulders and off my body, I wonder what it would feel like to have Parker do the undressing, how it would feel to have his mouth on mine while his fingers delve between my thighs.

All week, I've been mulling over the proposal and if agreeing to it was the right call. If I'm honest with myself, agreeing has less to do with the money and more to do with being around Parker again, though that amount of money is a huge bonus. What sort of man would rather hire a woman to be his date than actually find a girlfriend?

Part of me is still afraid that this is a dream or an elaborate prank, and when I go downstairs, he won’t be there.

So, on the night of the gala, I wait until five minutes after he said to meet before going downstairs. I only did my hair three times, undecided if I wanted it up or down or a combination. Ultimately, I decided to pin my brown hair into a high bun.

My stomach twists with fear and anticipation and just a little bit of lust when I see the limo waiting outside my apartment building, and I hesitate at the sight of it. What am I doing? These people no doubt run in different circles than I do. How am I going to keep up with people who easily spend twice my salary on a car they will drive once a year?

The driver gets out and opens the door to the backseat, breaking my reverie. Gathering my dress up, I step forward, careful of the cracks in the pavement and my sky-high heels.

I can see Parker inside the limo with his phone in hand and head down. As I approach, he turns and looks at me. I think he does a double take as he soaks in my appearance. I was given dresses in so many different colors, but this was the one I wanted most. If this arrangement is going to be short-lived, I wanted to wear this one first.

The black fabric with silver thread woven through it is soft. It looks like moonlight when it glitters, and it makes me feel just like that, something that will dance just out of reach no matter how badly you want it. The skirt is predominantly sheer, with a slit that runs from the floor up past my hip. Clever layering keeps me from revealing too much. The same can't be said for the top, which is completely sheer. There is no bra in existence that I could have worn. The delicate material means that not even boob tape can save me.

Parker knew what he was doing when he picked this dress. If he wants a woman on display, that's what he'll get.

I huddle into my jacket more tightly before stepping into the limo.

"Were the dresses to your liking?"

I open my jacket to let him see the dress in full. His eyes dip down between the plunging neckline to my breasts. The car is warm, but I can feel my nipples harden under his gaze.

"Did I choose well?" I ask, surprised by the breathlessness of my voice.

His hand reaches out and lightly traces the line of my throat with his fingertips. He follows the edge of the fabric until he reaches the swell of my breast.

There is nothing tentative as he slides his hand between the fabric right to my pebbled nipple. My breath catches, and he pinches it, drawing an edge of pain and pleasure. My body clenches around nothing, and I want him to do it again, while I'm straddling him and he’s buried inside me.

"I think this dress was an excellent choice."

"I trust you wanted me on display?"

"In a way. You will draw attention, which will guarantee that my sister will be blowing up my phone, asking questions about who I'm with. I'll ignore her until we’re in Shanghai next month, making you officially the first woman to make more than one appearance at my side."

Parker's hand is still on my breast, his fingertips circling to soothe the pain from the pinch.

"I said no sex," I reiterate, but my voice lacks conviction.

"Sweetheart, if we were having sex, there would be less talking and you would be moaning as you came around my cock." His fingers still don't stop.

"Bold claim."

His hand slips back up to my neck, gripping it firmly enough to exert his force over me. He wants me to remember who is in charge, and I want to let him. Parker leans toward me, pressing me into the seat with his lips ghosting my cheek.

"Remember, you're the one who wants no sex," he whispers.

My eyes meet his, and it becomes much harder for me to remember why I said no. There is a gentle knock on the divider, reminding me we aren't truly alone.

Parker withdraws his hand before soothing it down my cheek.

"We're ready," he calls, pulling my jacket closed again.

"No, we're not," I object, and he pauses.

"Second thoughts?"

I open my mouth to respond but instead lean forward and kiss him. My whole body is tense, and that's not going to sell the loving girlfriend image. I mean for this to just loosen me up, a small reminder of why I’m here, why I’m doing this.

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