Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
While I stood there salivating, Graham took my face into one hand and squeezed. “You are going to be the death of me, looking at me like that.” Then he kissed me until there was no doubt what I was feeling was mutual.
I blinked myself back to reality when he released me. “I need to get dressed. Come inside.”
“I haven’t been able to think about anything but coming inside since you told me about your doctor’s appointment to renew your birth control.”
I rolled my eyes at him for being a perv, even though I secretly loved every dirty word. “I just need a minute to slip my dress on.”
“Would you like help with that?”
I pointed to a chair in the kitchen. “Sit. Stay.”
“Am I a dog? I’m not above begging.”
I disappeared into my bedroom and slipped on the green dress. It was the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned. Graham wasn’t lying when he said the dress was final sale. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be wearing it. But I had to admit, the other dresses I picked out couldn’t compare to the beauty of the one he had bought.
Unlike Graham, who strode toward me with the self-assurance of knowing his place at the top of the food chain, I was a nervous wreck to walk out of my bedroom. The dress was gorgeous; it hugged my every curve and showed off the perfect amount of skin to be sexy without tilting to slutty, yet I wasn’t in my comfort zone. Looking in the mirror, my reflection was beautiful, but what it didn’t reflect was…me.
Whatever doubt I had was almost fully erased when I saw Graham’s face. He was sitting at my kitchen table playing with his phone and stood when he saw me.
“You look fucking incredible.”
“The dress is incredible. I still can’t believe how much you paid for it.”
“It’s not the dress, Soraya. It’s the woman wearing it.”
“That’s sweet. Thank you.”
“Green is most definitely your color.” He reached up and fingered my hair. “I can’t see if your tips match with this hairdo.” I’d pinned my hair up into a French twist, and tucked the colorful ends underneath.
I smiled. “They do. But I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. I’ve never been to a gala before, but something tells me I would be the only one with green in her hair.”
“You don’t like your hair up?”
“I like it better down, actually.”
“Turn around. Let me see.” When I complied, Graham slipped the pins that were fastening my thick tresses out. My long hair fell down in waves. He guided me to turn back around. “You’ll stick out with it up or down, and it has nothing to do with your hair color.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Mind? I’m an arrogant asshole. I quite like it when others envy what I have.”
“Just give me a second to fix it.” I went to the bathroom and smoothed out my hair. I really did like my hair down better. When I returned, Graham took both of my hands.
“So, does it match?”
“Yes. The color is pretty close, don’t you think?” I lifted my tips up against the top of my dress. The greens were almost the exact same hue.
“I wasn’t talking about the dress.”
“Oh. No. Thank you for the Betty Down There, but the curtains don’t match.”
“That’s a shame.”
I smirked. “Really? I thought you might like my set up down there.”
“Your set up?”
I kissed his lips gently, then spoke against them. “There’s nothing to dye. I’m completely bare down there.”
***
GRAHAM WAS RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING; we were certainly attracting attention. Although I doubted any of the women eye fucking the man I was standing next to even noticed my hair. Graham seemed oblivious as he steered me toward the bar.
“You seem to have a fan club.”
“It’s more like a hate club. My business is very competitive.”
I eyed one woman who was blatantly staring at us as we walked. She was wearing a red dress, and her head was following our every step. “Looks more like lust than hate.”
Graham followed my line of sight. He pulled me closer to his side. “Keep away from that one.”
That comment only made me stare longer. “Why?”
“I don’t want her tainting your view on me any more than I accomplish on my own.”
At the bar, Graham ordered his fancy drink and the wine I had at dinner last week. He got a point for remembering what I liked. While we waited, I looked around the room. The Met was an incredible place. I’d been inside before for exhibitions but never in this particular hall. The domed ceilings were a work of art in itself. It was overwhelming to take it all in. The people. The venue. The man standing next to me, most of all.
Graham handed me my drink. “How much money will something like this raise?”