☼ twelve ☼

                                    

                                          
On my way home, I received three text messages from Olivia.
Olivia: Vivi, please, I'm sorry. Come back. Let's talk.
I rolled my eyes. If I went back, she'd attack me with her lips again, and she'd get even more handsy. And as much as that made me pulsate with desire—another rung of that forbidden fruit ladder; I had a habit, apparently—it couldn't happen. I wouldn't let her rope me in.
Olivia: Okay, I overstepped. We're not together anymore. But it was fun, wasn't it? Why not try, like, no-strings-attached?
I nearly hurled my phone out the window.
The nerve of her, implying we could sleep together with no consequences. Her and I? The drama that would entail? As tempting as the notion of fucking her without consequence was, I knew myself. I knew her. It wouldn't work.
Olivia: Fine. Your silence says it all. I'll see you tomorrow night.
It wasn't a full reprieve—she wasn't done trying to seduce me—but at least, for tonight, I'd be able to rest.
I swore I wouldn't touch myself when I got home, thinking of what might have happened had I not stopped us.
***
I woke early to a string of texts from Axel, all regarding the engagement party to be held that night.
He sent me several vendors to speak with about last-minute details, a few places to pick up decorations for the crew he'd hired, and money for an outfit he saw for me.
For me?
Axel Levine: I know you'll protest, but I'd like you to look nice tonight. Not that you don't usually—but I came across this dress and it immediately made me think of you. Please, at least consider it, would you?
I accepted the money and agreed to stop by the clothing shop to peep at the dress. But I had no intention of trying it on, let alone leaving with it.
Until I saw it for myself.
"This?" I gestured at the outfit set aside by the shop clerk. She informed me it was already paid for, and I only needed to try it on in case alterations were required.
"And if it needs to be altered," the young woman stood behind the cash register and eyed the gown from top to bottom, "I can do that now. Though I will say, Mr. Levine insisted he has an eye for sizes, and this should fit you with no need for modifications."
It was a deep, auburn-tinted red, embellished with black lace, stopping at the knees, slightly flared out. The bodice was tight, low-cut, but tasteful; off-the-shoulder, with long sleeves. The fabric was a delicate satin, and I gawked at the price tag when I saw it.
"Jeez," I said, as I entered the changing room, doubting this exquisite piece of fashion would work for me. It was so luxurious, so beautiful; too beautiful for someone who wasn't part of the bridal party.
And naturally, it fit perfectly. It felt tailored to me, to my body shape.
I gaped at myself in the mirror, watching how the material molded to my curves, how it accentuated my ass and breasts in the most amazing ways.
And then I imagined Axel imagining me wearing this, and I had to remove it at once before I got it all drenched from my bubbling arousal.
I texted Axel that I loved it, and that he didn't have to do that.
But I had no time to reconfigure my shoes and accessories and makeup to go with this new outfit. I didn't have long to get ready—all the errands and meetings ate up most of my time today, and it was already five o'clock. The party was to start at eight, and I needed to get home, freshen up, and hop in another Uber to get across town.