Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
But that's worse. The idea that I somehow tricked him. Trapped him.
Which is bullshit—it takes two people to have sex, especially unprotected sex—even if it's hard to get mad at Ty for something that hasn't happened.
That would never happen—
He was adamant about using protection.
Is he still? Is he safe? He's been with a lot of women.
I shouldn't judge, I know, but it's hard not to feel irrelevant.
I've only been with two guys since Ty. One attempt at a boyfriend. And an ex from high school after my mother's funeral.
I thought it would help make me feel something, but instead I felt more alone.
"Ms. Simms? Are you all right?" Paloma pulls a jumpsuit from the rack. It's a long, black thing with a deep v-neck. Sexy. In a boss bitch way. "Have you thought about how you want to present yourself?"
"A rock star," I say. "I want to look like a rock star."
"Perfect." She smiles.
I have to hand it to Paloma—the woman knows style. She sends me to the dressing room. Pulls items. Asks me to model them.
I let her adorn me in jeans, blouses, t-shirts. Even a few sundresses.
Soft black fabric with a square neck and a high slit.
Short emerald chiffon.
Stiff white sateen.
Then clothes for dinners. She deems jumpsuits perfect. Formal but rebellious. A fuck you to the rich men who expect women to wear dresses at all times.
I change into a fuchsia one-piece with a high neckline and a low back.
Sleek silk.
Expensive enough to cover two weeks of rent.
Is it me? I don't know. I trust Paloma to tell me if it fits into Ty's world, but she doesn't know me. Not really.
I pull out my cell. Snap a pic for Sienna.
She responds right away.
Sienna: OMFG, Indie! Explanation.
Indigo: Am I pulling it off?
Sienna: Mr. London is dressing you. It's a sick fetish of his.
Indigo: Uh-huh.
Sienna: It's a pretty sweet fetish. For you. You can get a lot of free stuff out of it! What's that cost? Oh my god, don't tell me. Not until it's in the closet and we can put it on ThreadUp.
Indigo: Since when do you know about ThreadUp?
Sienna: Since always. Where do you think we live? And yes! You look hot. You just need some dramatic makeup to match. And shoes. But, no offense, Indie, can you walk in heels?
Indigo: I've worn them to work.
Sienna: And sprained your ankle.
Indigo: Only the one time.
She's right, of course. I can barely walk in heels.
But it's not like I'm planning to walk in these clothes.
Or wear them for long. Necessarily.
Indigo: I'll figure it out.
Sienna: Has he seen it?
Indigo: Not yet.
Sienna: You're seeing him again?
Indigo: I am.
Sienna: I want you home at the crack of dawn. Not a second sooner.
Indigo: Maybe I want to make him wait.
Sienna: Carpe Diem, Indie. You might die tomorrow. Would you rather die satisfied or horny?
A laugh spills from my lips. God, I love her so much. She's just… Sienna. Loud and brash and completely sure of what matters in life (soccer, sex, sugary drinks, in that order).
Talking to her, I can imagine Ty is some rich guy I like.
Maybe I can hold on to that. To some hint of normalcy.
Something.
I do want this to be a surprise. But I want to tease him too.
I turn to the mirror. Hold out my cell.
Try a few angles. Click, click, click.
There. This picture is perfect. The slope of my shoulder. The line of the fabric falling to my lower back.
I hit send.
He responds immediately.
Ty: Gorgeous.
My cheeks flush.
I'm glad I'm here, in the privacy of this tiny dressing room, the door blocking out the prying eyes of Ty's assistant.
But then—
I want him here. Stripping me out of my clothes. Running his hands over my body. Issuing dirty demands.
Ty: Are you showing that off tonight? Or something else?
Indigo: It's a surprise.
He isn’t asking enough. He isn’t as desperate as I am.
I need him desperate.
So I do away with the jumpsuit. Try on the lingerie Paloma pulled for me. Snap a picture of the sheer black lace.
It's only a sliver of my skin. My nose to the top of my breast. The black strap. The hint of lace. The Latin quote on my shoulder.
alis volat propris
She flies by her own wings.
Reversed by the camera's mirror.
There.
I don't think. I send.
My blush deepens. My sex clenches.
I grip my phone tighter.
It buzzes against my fingers, sending desire to every molecule of my body.
Ty: Are you trying to tease me, baby?
The pet name makes my sex clench. I can hear it on his tongue. I can feel his hands on my skin.
Indigo: If I am?
My heart thuds against my chest. I close my eyes and see it.
His tie around my wrists, his lips on my neck, his hand on my ass.
Ty: This is the only warning I'm going to give you, Indie. If you don't want to play this game, stop now. Because once you start, I'm not going to stop until you're screaming my name.