Little Black Dress

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Chapter Six

  She tasted herself on his lips and although she had just come harder than she’d ever come before, unbelievably, the ache was returning. Not touching him was torture, but she figured she’d have her turn after he had his. Like he’d said, they had all night.

  He feathered kisses along her jaw, stopping at her ear. She heard a light curse then felt a small tug on her lobe. He’d removed Emma’s earring. He sucked on that tiny bit of flesh, and she lost all thought but one.

  Him.

  “I’m gonna fuck you now, Katie. You ready for that?”

  “Yes.” God, yes!

  He rolled off her, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom. In three deft moves, he had the package ripped open, the condom pulled out, and had it rolled on. Then he was on her again.

  “Spread wide for me, baby.”

  She did as asked and in a blink he was inside, stretching her wide, filling her deeply. It had been a while—a pretty damn long while actually—and he was large. Thankfully, he paused a moment, letting her grow accustomed to his size.

  “Fuck you feel good,” he growled. “So damn tight.”

  He pulled out then surged back in. Over and over. Harder and deeper. Slower then faster. And she loved every second of it. She was getting close. She gripped the rails of his headboard with tight fists, her legs wrapped around his waist, tightly squeezing as their bodies moved in tandem.

  “I’m not gonna last much longer. You need to come now.”

  She was so close. She felt herself cresting and then his fingers found her clit, and she exploded. White lights flashing, whole body jerking, detonation. With a few more thrusts, she watched as Ethan tipped his head back, his throat working as he shouted her name.

  His dark, piercing eyes found hers a few moments later. “Again.”

  Learning her mistake, that indeed she could come again, she just smiled.

  They lay entwined, their breaths finally evened. Her head rested on Ethan’s chest, his arm cradling her while his fingers played with a lock of her hair. Her fingers were busy as well, skimming the line of soft hair under his navel. Her body was content, her mind peaceful, and her heart overflowing. She’d never been so happy.

  “You know this makes you mine now, right?” His voice was loud and gruff in the quiet of the room. “I’m never going to let you go.”

  She got up on an elbow, looking down at him. His eyes traveled her face as if memorizing every feature. “Promise, forever?”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his eyes warm, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Promise. Forever.” The pad of his thumb ran along the length of her cheek. “Kiss me, Katie.”

  And she did, putting all the love she felt for him behind it.

  *

  One week later

  Ethan walked into the living room, pausing to savor the view of Katie sprawled half naked on his couch. She wore one of his SFPD T-shirts that had risen, exposing a band of smooth, tanned stomach and white lace panties.

  Her giggle drew his eyes from her long shapely legs—one straight, one bent at the knee, her foot flat on the couch—to her face as she smiled at her phone. “What’s so funny?” He took a few steps reaching the back of the couch.

  “My friend, Winnie.” She held out her phone. “Look at the email she just sent me.”

  Ethan raised a brow. “Your black dress in exchange for a bottle of wine? I don’t know.” He flattened his lips pretending to ponder it. “I’m pretty attached to that dress. Maybe if she throws in a large pepperoni pizza, I’ll consider it.”

  Katie took her phone back with another giggle. “I’ll let her know your stipulation. What do you think the odds are Winnie will have the same luck Abby, Lucy, and I had with the dress?”

  Ethan had heard the stories of what was becoming the “iconic” little black dress. He leaned over, gripping her under the arms, pulling her up so her knees were planted on the couch, her face level with his. “I think, if she has half the luck you and I had with that dress, she’ll be one very happy and satisfied lady.”

  Katie wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a sly grin. “How about I slip it on now? Enjoy it one more time before it goes to its new home.”

  He grabbed her by the ass, lifting her over the couch. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he took a moment to enjoy the heat of her pussy against his stomach. He nibbled kisses up her neck to her ear. “I say, that’s a very good idea. Never did get a chance to fuck you in it.”

  She tipped her head back, giggling. “Remind me to take it to the cleaners before giving it to Winnie.”

  “Another excellent idea because I plan on making you and that little black dress very,” he bit her lobe, “very,” he sucked on it to take away the sting, “dirty.”

  Winnie Mae

  By Layla Frost

  Winnie Mae By Layla Frost

  © 2017 Layla Frost

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Dedications

  To everyone who’s battled the ugly C-word or loved someone who has.

  To Gilda’s Club-Rochester—

  Thank you for everything you do to bring support and love to something so ugly.

  To Dad—

  You inspire me. I’m so proud of you. I love you.

  Other Books by Layla Frost

  The Hyde Series:

  Hyde and Seek

  Best Kase Scenario

  The Amato Series:

  With Us

  Connect with Layla Frost

  I love connecting with readers. Please stalk… I mean, follow me:

  Facebook

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  My Site

  Twitter and Instagram: @LaylaFWrites

  Email: laylafrostwrites@gmail.com

  Chapter One

  Loki Sex Jokes

  “Winsome Winnie,” my roommate sing-songed, clutching her hands by her head and giving me the pouty lip. “I need a huge favor.”

  I twisted my spinny chair around to face her fully, wishing I had a cat in my lap to stroke. “Yes?”

  She made her blue eyes extra big. Her messy bun of blond hair bobbed as she spoke. “Come to the Christmas party with me?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No way.”

  “I don’t want to go by myself, and I don’t know anyone.” Emma had started working in the research department at some marketing firm the previous week. It was her first real job, not just an internship. “It’ll be fun.”

  “You and I have very different ideas of fun, Em.” The idea of Christmas music and festive sweaters had me breaking out into a cold sweat. “I thought you were going to skip it?”

  “I was, but I can’t. Everyone is super close, and I’m the new girl. If I don’t try to mingle, I’ll be an outsider forever. And I love this job, Winnie.”

  I pursed my lips. I’d already decided to give in, but I was going to milk it. “I really don’t know. I had a hot date planned tomorrow night.”

  Emma lifted her brows. “You’re going to watch Netflix.”

  “And drink a glass or four of wine. And, hey, don
’t act like Netflix isn’t a hot date. Have you looked at my suggested list? It knows exactly what I want.”

  Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Em brought out the big guns. “I’ll cook for you this week.”

  Keep cool. See what she’s offering first.

  I blanked my expression. “Go on.”

  Lifting her hand, she put a finger up for each item she listed. “Sticky chicken. Mashed potatoes. Corn pudding.”

  My stomach and I both worked hard not to show any response.

  She tapped her finger against her lip, knowing what I was waiting for. “Gravy made from the drippings.”

  “Deal!” I practically shouted. My lack of cooking skills meant I’d be living off take-out and fast food if it weren’t for Emma. She’d learned early on in our friendship that the quickest way to my heart, and the key to manipulation, was utilizing her online recipe obsession and natural cooking abilities.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she chanted, pulling me into a giant hug. “The party is in some hotel’s function room. I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

  “What am I supposed to wear?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever. I’m wearing that new red sweater dress I got last week. But you could just wear jeans and a tee shirt. I’m just glad you’re coming with me.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said, spinning around to face my desk. “Well, back to the drawing board.”

  “I’m beginning to think you became an artist just so you could make that joke.”

  “You’d be correct. Like when I bought the Loki tank top so I could tell everyone I liked to dress ‘low-key’… Just on a much more expensive and life consuming scale.”

  A minute later, a glass of wine was set on the edge of the desk. “Thanks again, Winsome Winnie. I know you hate this stuff, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.”

  “I did it all for the gravy.”

  “I’ll make extra. See you tomorrow.”

  “Night,” I called back.

  Our schedules were opposite. Emma woke with the sun, which was right around when I was falling into bed. I preferred to work in front of our big window, letting the night sky inspire me.

  Sex jokes didn’t just write themselves.

  They were hard. So hard.

  Especially right then. I rested my chin on my hand, tapping my pen as I stared at the blank paper. Every idea that came to me was about clothing since half my focus was on what I was supposed to wear the next night to the stupid party. If left to my own devices, a tee and jeans would’ve been the winner. But it was something for Em’s work, and I wanted to fit in.

  An idea began to form in my head, and my lips curled into a wicked smile.

  Holy shit, I’m turning into the Grinch.

  I need a black dress.

  Since it was too late to go shopping, and far too late to shop online, my shoulders began to slump. The only black dress Emma had was more for a night at a club. I owned a grand total of zero dresses.

  Katie has that pretty one she wore last week. Maybe she’d let me borrow it?

  Sketching quickly, I drew the black dress and a comically huge bottle of wine I wished was real. I scanned the image and brought it up on my computer, using my software to add, ‘Will you take your black dress off in exchange for a bottle of wine? I just want to borrow it, whatever happens after that is between you and Ethan.’

  I sent her the picture and returned my attention to the real work I was supposed to be doing.

  The important sex jokes.

  Chapter Two

  Stepford Winifred

  “Yay, you’re here!” Emma cheered, stopping abruptly when she got a better look at me. “What’re you wearing?”

  I straightened my red cardigan. The black wrap dress I’d borrowed from Katie showed a lot of my tattoos. Usually that was a good thing, and one of the criteria I used when I chose my clothes.

  But not for that night.

  Carefully, I’d had to pin the dress to hide some of the major cleavage it revealed. Since I was shorter than Katie by a few inches, it already hit below my knees. I’d even borrowed a pair of Emma’s sensible black pumps with a small heel that did very little to change my five foot three-and-a-half-inch height.

  And, yes, that half was very important. Every inch counted.

  “It’s my business look. You like?” I held up my plain black wristlet bag, nary a sparkle nor cartoon in sight. I was careful not to touch my dark brown hair that was pulled back in a tight chignon, since little pieces already kept trying to escape.

  “No.” Reaching out, she pinched my cheek. “Just double checking this isn’t a Stepford Wife robot situation.”

  I scrunched my face at her and pulled away. I almost wiped my face before remembering the massive amount of makeup I’d used to try to get a natural look. Contouring and highlighting was definitely never going to be a part of my daily routine. Not unless I had ten hours to spare.

  Despite the massive amount of time and makeup I’d used, the whole look was very neutral and boring, minus the pop of red lip stain.

  “I’m just trying to make this fun,” I said. “I promise not to embarrass you.”

  “You never would,” Emma said, looking almost insulted.

  “I will if I hear ‘The Little Drummer Boy’ more than once. I’ll smash the speakers and trash the place.” I put my finger in the air, shaking it around. “I’ll pa-rum-pum-pum-pum whoever puts it on, I swear it.”

  “Noted,” she said, unfazed by my antics at this point. “Let’s get in there and grab a drink so I can enjoy your show.”

  Walking through the hotel lobby, we headed into the event room. Christmas music was playing, but it was so low it was barely audible over the buzz of conversations. We stopped at the bar and grabbed our wine before moving off to the side.

  “This place is swanky,” I noted, seeing the fully stocked open bar and tables of finger foods.

  “Yeah, they really go all out. The company books rooms and has taxis on standby. It’s definitely not like when we worked at that awful telemarketing place in college. Remember, when we all had to chip in for pizza and then drink from the water fountain?”

  “God, don’t remind me.”

  Snacking on hors d’oeuvres, we chatted for a few minutes as more and more people filed in. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there. Every once in a while, Emma’s eyes would skim the crowd, and I knew she was watching for him.

  “Hanging around with me in the corner isn’t going to get you in with any of the cool kid cliques. Then you’ll have to eat lunch in the bathroom, and Jimmy will never invite you to prom.” I gave her a nudge. “Or something like that. Go. Chat and mingle. Dazzle them.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  I drained my drink. “Tiny bladder and a shit ton of coffee today. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” She walked toward a crowd of people who looked excited to see her before I went off in the opposite direction.

  After using the bathroom, I snagged another glass of wine and scanned the room. I saw Emma chatting with a guy, smiling up at him as she played with her necklace, which was something she only did when she was the best kind of nervous.

  Thick dirty blond hair, a wide smile, and baby blue eyes made me think he was likely Wyatt.

  Her work crush.

  I’d heard enough about him and his shoulders to know I wasn’t needed in their conversation. Em had been anxious to talk to him about something other than business, and I wasn’t about to interrupt. I settled in for some people watching, instead.

  My favorite pastime.

  A few minutes in, a deep voice cut through my focus to ask one of the sexiest things I’d ever heard.

  “More wine?”

  When I looked over at the man, I almo
st forgot about the wine.

  Almost.

  Over six feet tall, he had amazing, thick black hair. His hazel eyes were warm as he looked down at me, holding out a new glass. The sleeves of his black sweater were pushed up, exposing sexy forearms and just the right amount of hair. I could just picture the perfect amount of hair on his broad chest. He was in his early thirties or so, I’d guess.

  “No, thank you,” I said, forcing myself to stop undressing him in my mind.

  He took a sip instead, studying me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in the office before.”

  I tilted my head toward Emma. “I don’t work there, my friend does.”

  “Emma. She’s new, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you are?” he asked.

  I began to give my nickname before remembering my plan. “Winifred.”

  “Nice to meet you, Winifred. So you don’t work at Well Marketing?”

  “No, I work at Smith, Lee, and Jones.”

  “Hmm.” His lips thinned as he made a thoughtful expression. “I don’t think I’ve heard of them. Is it a law firm?”

  “No, they contract with the government. It’s a pretty big deal, but very confidential, as you can imagine.”

  He nodded, seeming to believe my insane lies. “That sounds interesting. What do you do there?”

  “Mostly mergers. Acquisitions.” I fluttered my hand around. “Those kinds of things.”

  Attentive eyes on mine, he took a drink of his wine, which I really regretted not taking. “Mergers and acquisitions?”

  “Yes, I combine some things. And,” I paused realizing I had no clue what acquisitions actually meant, “acquisition others. The usual.”

  “Sounds like a complex job.”

  I nodded, keeping my face serious. “It really does take a specific kind of person to do what I do. And I don’t like to brag or anything, but I’m pretty much the best at it. There was this whole thing with an energy source… I don’t want to bore you with the details, but it was a big deal.”

  “Wow.” He smiled, putting his hand in his dress slacks pocket. “That’s seriously impressive.”