Little Black Dress

by Sarah O'Rourke

  “Very funny, smartass,” Abby replied huffily, gasping as she saw what Lucy had been up to while she’d been getting ready for Whit in the bathroom. “Oh, my God, Lucy!” she breathed, looking at the table Lucy had prepared. Covered in one of Abby’s fancy lace tablecloths, the mahogany table had been set with the fine china and the shiny sterling silverware Whit had given her for their fifth anniversary. Lucy had even dug out her linen cloth napkins from the depths of drawers in her nearby china cabinet. Her baby sister had even put a pair of tapering candles in her crystal candle holders and lit them. “This looks beautiful,” she whispered, tearing up.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” Lucy directed with a scowl at Abby. “It took me fifteen minutes to get your eyeliner right. Don’t mess it up. Besides, setting this up was a piece of cake. I took a class in event planning that trained me for this. For the record, though, I could also set you up for a formal tea or a backyard barbeque, too, if you ever needed it.”

  Abby offered a genuine laugh. “I doubt that’ll ever be something I need, but it’s good to know your many talents are so versatile.”

  “You know it!” Lucy winked. “Now, I’ve got your dinner waiting in the kitchen. Warm it up if you need to. It’s just that pasta Whit loves and breadsticks. I figured you’d be too nervous to eat more than a few bites.”

  “You figured that right,” Abigail murmured as she paced from one end of the elegant table to the other.

  “Listen, sweets, all you’ll need to do is plate up the meal for your man when he gets here and let that little black dress do the rest of the work for you. You’ll be flat on your back in no time. Or maybe you’ll be on top,” she mused, staring at her sibling with a tilted head. “Either way, Whit will end up with his willy right where it’s supposed to go. Just try and relax, Abby,” she urged her anxiety ridden sister. “You’ve been with Whit for years. You are beyond qualified to seduce your husband into confiding what’s been sticking in his craw for the last few months.”

  “Just fuck the truth right out of him, right?” Abby said, summarizing her sister’s earlier advice. “Then, go for the scissors if the truth is too much to endure.”

  “I don’t think it’s gonna come to that, but yeah. I’ll have a shovel waiting on standby, though. Just in case,” Lucy promised with a reassuring smile. Looking at her watch, she grimaced. “As much as I’d like to stay here and spy on you guys through a window, I need to jet. I’ve got a study group later and we’re meeting across town,” she explained in a rush as she darted back into the kitchen to collect her things.

  Following her sister, Abby’s stomach twisted nervously. “You just make sure to keep your phone on tonight in case I really do need that alibi… or an escape plan if this all goes badly,” she warned, waving a hand up and down where the dress clung to her body.

  Lucy chuckled as she pocketed her cell phone and grabbed her bag. “Abigail Layne, that little black dress rocks. And the woman inside the dress could rule the world if she ever chose to try. You’ve got to believe in Whit, but more importantly, you’ve got to believe in yourself. You got this,” she concluded as she came to stand in front of her sister and grip her bare shoulders, shaking her slightly. “Say it,” she commanded.

  “I got this,” Abby murmured reluctantly, looking down at the toes of her strappy black heels.

  “Again, Abs! This time like you mean it,” Lucy insisted firmly, shaking her gently.

  Lifting her head to stare her sister in the eye, Abigail swallowed uncertainly. “I got this,” she repeated a little louder this time, meeting Lucy’s eyes briefly.

  “What?” Lucy asked, her eyes narrowing on her big sister.

  “I said, I GOT this!” Abby yelled finally, getting into the spirit as she met Lucy’s gaze head-on.

  “That’s right, bitch! You do got this! Who owns Whitlock Lehigh’s fucking heart?” her baby sister asked forcefully.

  “I do!” Abby replied vehemently.

  “And who owns his dick?” Lucy questioned sharply.

  “I do!” Abby returned, matching Lucy’s tone as she felt the blood start to heat and pump through her veins.

  “Hell, yeah, you do!” Lucy agreed with a nod. “Now, you go take that fine ass of yours to the living room and meet that man at the door to remind that man who owns his fine body, alright?”

  Abigail nodded as her sister’s warm arms surrounded her and tugged her into her embrace. “I love you, Luce. I really, really do. Thank you for riding to my rescue this afternoon,” she whispered against the shell of her sister’s ear.

  “Hon, you’ve ridden to mine enough times over the years. It’s what sisters do. I love you more than my favorite pair of Chucks, and you know how much I love those damn sneakers of mine. If you need me, I’ll always be there. No questions asked,” Lucy vowed quietly as her arms contracted around her big sister.

  Nodding against Lucy’s shoulder, Abby forced herself to pull it together and take a step back. “Okay, kiddo. Go play with your study buddies. I’ll let you know how tonight turns out — good or bad,” she promised with a tight smile.

  “You better,” Lucy threatened, pointing at her sister before heading toward the door. “If you haven’t called me by noon tomorrow, just remember, I’ve got Mom on speed dial, too.”

  “I’ll call you, you little terrorist. There’s no need to pull the threat of our mother out of the arsenal,” Abby called out quickly as her sister reached the back door.

  “Then see to it that I don’t have to pull that particular gun and call me. Bye, sis,” Lucy sang out before closing the door behind her.

  Taking a deep breath as she stood alone in her kitchen, Abigail fought her mounting panic. She’d been married to Whit for ages. She knew him inside out. Or, she had known him for many years. And even if he’d changed over the years, he was still the same person at his core. Deep down, he was still her Whitlock. “He just has to be,” she whispered as she heard the front door opening. Turning, she rushed toward the sound, knowing with every step that it could only be one person. In spite of that knowledge, she still called out a questioning “Hello?”

  “Abby?” she heard Whit’s deep baritone voice reply. “I’m home!”

  Rushing into the foyer, she skidded to an abrupt halt as her heel caught on the rug. Staring at Whitlock with surprise shining in her eyes, she couldn’t help smiling. “You actually came,” she breathed, reaching a hand out to the wall to catch herself from falling as she felt his warm hand wrap around her upper arm to steady her as she fell against him. Tilting her head back to look up into his handsome face, she thought that perhaps there might be hope for them after all.

  ***

  Whit’s own eyes dilated as he dropped his keys with nerveless fingers on the table beside the door as he gazed at the stunning woman hurrying toward him. Dressed in a familiar dress that clung to every curve she had, his wife looked like a goddess as she neared him, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

  “You actually came,” he heard her breathe a second before she began to stumble and fall. Catching her arm when her feet would have gone out from under her, he nearly groaned when her soft body fell into his, her body fitting against his own in a way that made him ache as Abby’s unique scent filled his nostrils. It was an intoxicating blend of her light floral perfume and a scent that that was completely exclusive to her, and he couldn’t get enough of the smell. Inhaling deeply, his arms automatically folded around his wife’s waist, pulling her closer as his dick hardened against her almost instantly.

  “Of course I came, Abigail,” he said softly, his breath ghosting her cheek and pulling a faint shudder from the curvaceous body nestled against him. “Your message sounded like you needed me. I will always be here if you need me.”

  “Like our anniversary?” he heard her retort icily as her supple body stiffened against his. Dropping his head to meet her eye
s, he could see by her wince that she immediately regretted her hasty, but true words.

  Reminding himself that she still didn’t know why he’d really stood her up that night, he fought his own snippy reply and instead focused on the fact that, by the look on her face, she was sorry for saying something that would start an argument. Capturing her chin in his hand when her head bowed, he lifted until he captured her gaze with his. “Abigail, I’ve apologized over and over again for that night. I don’t know what my problem was,” he lied. “But, I forgot the most important day of our year. Baby girl,” he urged her huskily, using the nickname he’d been calling her since the night he’d taken her virginity, “please, believe me. It was a stupid, awful, disrespectful thing for me to do, but I am truly sorry,” he apologized, every word of his last statement the complete truth. “Please, sweetheart, try to find it in your heart to forgive me. Give me a chance to prove I won’t ever make the same mistake twice.”

  Seemingly dazed by his heartfelt plea, Abby blinked in response as she stood there in the circle of his arms. “I don’t… I’m not sure what to say, Whit. I want us to move past the coldness of the last few months. I really do. That’s one of the reasons why I called you home,” she said, the white lie falling easily from her lips. “I wanted us to…”

  Watching as Abby’s nervousness got the better of her, Whit cupped her cool cheek in his hand and directed her eyes back to his. “You wanted us to what, baby?”

  Instead of answering, Abby chose to show him what she wanted instead, pushing her body against his and wrapping her arms around his neck as her lips pressed against his. He groaned deeply as he felt her tongue sweep urgently against the seam of his lips until they parted, and she slid forward to tangle her tongue with his. Tightening his arms around her waist, Whit sank into their kiss, relishing the taste of her lips after being too long without her taste. Sliding his tongue against hers, he cupped one hand around her neck as he deepened their kiss, desperate to be as close to her as humanly possible for as long as she would let him.

  Finally coming up for air long moments later, Abby panted as she tried to pull enough oxygen into her body to satisfy her lungs. Her breath fell against his lips in soft bursts as she shivered with excitement. Seeing her kiss-swollen lips and bright eyes, he knew he’d excited her body as much as she had his. Watching as reality slowly invaded the moment, Whit held his breath and prayed she didn’t push him away.

  “It’s been a long time since you kissed me like that,” she whispered when she could finally speak again, her voice soft and shaky as she looked up at him.

  “It’s been a long time since you allowed me close enough to kiss you like that, baby girl. I’ve missed watching that hazy look you get on your face after I’ve kissed you breathless,” he admitted, lifting a hand to run his finger down the side of her face. “The only time you look even more beautiful is when I sink my cock into your body. I’ve missed seeing that look on you, too.”

  “Really?” Abby asked weakly, his words melting some of the ice encasing her heart.

  “So much that it kills me, sweetheart. I never wanted this distance between us; I just haven’t known how to bridge the gap. I’ve been scared that one wrong step would ruin everything,” he confided huskily. “I love you so fucking much, Abigail. The last few months have been hell for me, too.”

  Nothing he said made much sense to her. If he’d felt the way he described, why hadn’t he made the effort and shown up to any of their counseling sessions to try and work things out with her? She wanted to ask him, but as she stood in his arms, leaning against the hard planes of his chest, she wanted one thing even more than she wanted an explanation.

  Lifting her hand, she pressed her fingers against Whit’s warm mouth. “No more talking right now,” she declared softly. “Please, Whit, for tonight, just take me to bed and love me again. Can we do that? Just take tonight for us and leave the problems outside our bedroom door until morning?”

  In that moment, looking down into her tearful eyes, Whit knew that in the morning he’d confess everything to her. His plans might fall through and his surprise might ultimately turn into a nightmare for both of them, but he refused to be responsible for another ounce of the pain shining in her eyes. Hell, maybe he should just tell her everything now. “Honey, we can do whatever you want. I’d love to carry you into our bedroom and make love to you until neither of us can move, but if you want me to talk…”

  Abby shook her head violently. “No!” she interrupted harshly. “Not tonight. You’ve had months to talk, Whitlock. Tonight, I’m stealing. Tonight is mine. Nobody and nothing else matters for the next few hours,” she insisted, unbuttoning his suit jacket with jerking fingers before clutching at the lapels of his coat and shoving it over his shoulders to fall to the floor beneath them. “The truth can find me tomorrow, but tonight is strictly for me,” she asserted forcefully, her gaze colliding with his as she wrapped her hand around his tie and jerked his mouth down to hers.

  Her kiss was near violent as her teeth caught his lower lip and tugged, and he was grateful for the slight pain. It let him know that this was no dream. He really was holding his wife in his arms again. Lifting a hand to tangle in her hair, he felt the soft strands slipping through his fingers and he tightened his fist, smiling when he felt Abby gasp against his lips. She’d always loved it when he pulled her hair while they made love. She said it made her feel like a woman… his woman. And tonight he wanted to remind her that she would always be his woman. He’d imprint himself on her soul if he could. “I think we should take this to our bedroom, don’t you?” he muttered against her parted lips as he used his body to press hers against the wall behind her. “Or should I take you right here the first time?” he mused out loud, lifting his mouth to look down into her flushed face. “Should I tear this gorgeous dress off you right here in the foyer, baby girl? Did you think I’d forgotten this was what you were wearing the night I took your innocence?” Lowering his hand to stroke the exposed skin on the back of her right thigh just below the hem of her dress, he smiled when her breath caught in her throat. “You did. You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you?”

  “I-It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” she asked breathlessly, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing quickened and his fingers moved higher up her leg until they hovered just above her satin-covered pussy.

  “It could be a hundred years, Abigail. I’d never forget how you looked in this dress. If memory serves me, I ripped it off you that night, too,” he reminisced a second before his hands went back to the hem and he jerked the dress over her head. Tossing the slinky material over his shoulder, he grinned as he stared down at her mostly nude body.

  “Whit!” Abby gasped as she stood, almost naked, before him.

  “Still as fucking beautiful today as you were the last time I took that dress off you,” he murmured, licking his lips hungrily as he eyed her body. Clad only in a brief pair of black satin panties and her high heels, her bare breasts heaved before him as she squirmed against the cool wall, her stiff, rosy nipples standing stiffly at attention. Lifting a hand to palm one heavy globe, he met her heavy lidded gaze with his own. “I made you mine that long ago night, baby girl. Tell me,” he urged, brushing his thumb against one erect nipple. “Are you still only mine, Abigail? Does all this beauty still belong to me?” he asked, dipping his head to run his tongue over one hardened peak.

  “Oh, God,” Abby moaned, dropping her head back against the wall as she felt Whit draw her nipple between his lips and suckle her gently.

  Chuckling against her flesh, Whit smiled. “I don’t think it’s God sucking your gorgeous tit right now, baby,” he remarked softly as he pressed soft, lingering kisses up her chest and over her neck until he reached her ear. “Now, answer me,” he urged, nipping her earlobe in warning. “Do you still belong to me, Abigail?”

  “Yes, Whit,” Abby moaned as he dragged his tong
ue sensually back down her neck again. “Always,” she admitted shakily.

  “Good girl,” he praised hoarsely, biting her neck gently as he pressed his hardened dick against her. “God, Abigail, I want to fuck you. Right here. Right now. Will you let me have you like that, baby?” he asked, rocking his pelvis against her covered mound. He knew from experience that he was hitting her in all the right places. Years of being together had taught him exactly what his woman craved. Rocking his cock against her shielded pussy, he whispered, “Are you wet for me yet, Abby? If I slide my hand between those pretty thighs, will I find you ready to take me?”

  Breathing hard, Abby nodded. “Yes,” she confessed in a throaty whisper. “I think I’ve been wet since I decided this was what I wanted for tonight. I’ve missed having you between my legs.”

  Hooking his fingers in the gusset of her panties, he ripped them off with one vicious twist of his wrist. “Take me out, Abigail. I want to feel your silky soft hand wrapped around my cock again,” his gravelly voice ordered her.

  Nodding as his fingers slid through the slit of her pussy, her knees shook as his finger circled her distended, swollen clit. “Focus, baby girl, and get that hand around my dick,” he urged again, pressing his lips against the throbbing pulse in her neck as he pinched her little nub sharply in warning. Her hips lifted to his touch as her hand slid between them to unfasten his belt and unzip his fly. Finally finding his hot, hard length, she tugged it into her hand, pulling his cock from the confines of his pants.

  “Oh, Christ,” he hissed when her fist closed around him and slid over his pulsing dick. “That’s fucking it, baby.”

  Smiling, she looked down between them to see his dick, glistening at the tip with a couple of thick beads of his cum. “Mine,” she purred, squeezing her fingers around the burgeoning thickness.