Page 130 of Scorned Beauty

“Dom sent it to me this morning. Color me impressed. He guessed my size perfectly.”

“My cousin the Casanova.” Bianca gave a low whistle. “You’ve got the proportions of a fifties screen goddess and with that red hair…honestly, Sloane, with how long you kept Dom on ice, he might just combust in his tux.”

Imagining Dom combusting sent a pulse of arousal between my legs because I remembered how feral he could be, and I was more than ready for a hard pounding. It was as if my whole body had been encrusted in a layer of salt and needed a sledgehammer of wild sex to get through it. For the first time since I could remember, I used a vibrator last night, imaginingDom’s cock inside me so I could take the edge off. I didn’t want to jump his bones the moment he walked into the foyer. I had a feeling taking it slow wouldn’t be possible after tonight. I wondered if that was why he didn’t try to see me the previous evening after the spa.

“Has he had many girlfriends?”

Bianca side-eyed me after straightening from admiring the lacy underwear. “Is that a trick question? Because I’m kinda tickled that both of you are back together and I don’t want to be a victim to foot-in-mouth.”

“No tricks. I’m genuinely curious. He told me he didn’t have many girlfriends, just affairs like he had with me, I guess.”

“Ask him about it. He’s got this weird dating app for the rich.” Bianca side-eyed me again and her cheeks grew redder. “Honestly, the last thing I want to talk about is my cousin’s sex life. He’s like a brother to me.”

She visibly shuddered. I laughed.

“Okay, let’s get you into the dress! I promised to send pictures to our other girl chat.”

I hefted the garment bag out of the closet. The dress was heavy. I laid it on the bed and pulled down the zipper to reveal a black and ivory gown.

“I forgot how gorgeous it is!” Bianca enthused. “I love the skirt the most.” The voluminous skirt was embellished with different sizes of ivory rosettes over a backdrop of black. I extracted the beautiful creation, almost afraid to wear it. Hell, I could barely eat anything today because I was worried I would not fit in it.

Having the bustier helped. The off-shoulder creation had a fit-to-flare architecture. Bianca aided me in slipping on the gown, from the bottom up, and started the arduous task of working on the dainty lace-covered buttons. I felt her pulling the edges together.

“How are you doing back there? Am I going to fit or am I going to have a wardrobe malfunction?”

“Nah, as many buttons as you have back here…” she muttered. “God, how many buttons are there?”

“Thirty, maybe?”

“A hundred it looks like,” she deadpanned. “You know Dom’s not going to have the patience for this, right?”

“You’re not suggesting he’s going to rip it off.” I was comically appalled, but just imagining his impatience sent waves of heat coursing through my body.

“Just don’t get too attached to this dress.”

“The lady said the lace is antique.”

“Dom doesn’t give a damn whether it’s antique. He paid for it—he’ll have the satisfaction of ripping it off.”

I wasn’t attached to this dress, but my already X-rated thoughts of Dom got steamier. Hearing it rip, I would gasp in outrage and?—

“There.” Bianca broke the direction of my thoughts. “Whew.”

“Are you regretting coming to help me?”

She aimed her phone at me. “Hell no. Sera’s bummed she couldn’t be here, but Matteo had a meeting and she had to look after Gio.”

“Your husbands are probably happy you won’t be babysitting me anymore.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “It was fun.” She smirked. “Besides, I like it when my husband misses me. Now hush and put on your shoes.”

I did so dutifully, stepping into simple ivory pumps made with the same fabric as the gown. The heels were two inches and manageable, especially for someone like me, who wore sensible work clogs all day.

Bianca’s glee was infectious, and it calmed the swarming butterflies in my gut. She snapped several pictures and sent it toour group chat without Dom. The following pings led me to my phone, and when I checked it, Dom had sent a text five minutes ago that he had arrived but to take my time.

That sent me into a spiral of nervousness again. Our first outing as a couple and we had to do it big. I bit my bottom lip with the return of my anxiety.

“Dammit, what am I doing?” I mumbled.