8 Ways Onto The Naughty List
Page 11
She hated being a bridesmaid, okay to be technical the Maid of Honor, for her half-sister Ally’s wedding. While she waited for the elevator to arrive, Stacey ran through a mental list of the dozen reasons why she didn’t think being the Maid of Honor was well, such a great honor. To start with, their overbearing mother was twice as bad now that Ally was getting married. Added to the fact, their mother now harped on Stacey to find someone and settle down. Then there was all the wasted time on dress fittings. Fittings for quite possibly the ugliest dress Stacey would ever wear, thanks to her sister Ally. It was a peach orange color, form fitting and strapless.
Stacey wasn’t all that into little details, so being put in charge of planning the bridal shower and bachelorette party had been its own special form of torture. And helping Ally with all the other wedding arrangements didn’t help her opinion. Stacey knew between the cake tasting and menu, she would have easily put on five pounds. So she’d had to squeeze in a few workouts, which she absolutely hated. She’d endure it all for her sister, except for one thing.
Having to walk down the aisle with Best Man, Alex Brandelman. He was the biggest, literally, and most persistent flirt she’d ever met. To top it all off, in rehearsals, he held her too tight and danced much too close for her peace of mind. Coming in at well over six-four, and built like a modern version of Hercules, Alex almost made her feel dainty. When he smiled down at her with a twinkle in his blue eyes, he promised Stacey something she wasn’t sure she wanted. He could defrost a glacier with one look. Oh, she probably needed what he offered, but wanted, no thank you.
Okay, that was an out and out lie. She wanted him badly, but she wasn’t about to give into her urges. She was an adult and it was well beyond time for her to start acting like one. Her baby sister was getting married! It seemed all her friends, and family, were starting to settle down. They were ready to move on with the new phases of their lives.
And where was she? Still single. Like most other women, she still searched for her elusive Mister Right. Which meant she refused to let this sexy playboy sweep her off her feet and into the closest bed. No matter how tempting he might be.
The elevator doors finally slid open with a loud ‘bing’. Stacey stepped inside and stood there, tapping her foot. Pushing the “close” button, she hoped no one else would arrive. She leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Her nerves were shot. She couldn’t get Alex out of her head. If she wasn’t dealing with his flirting, then she watched him flirt with the other bridesmaids. Oh, not as blatantly, but enough so she noticed. It had gotten to the point that when he wasn’t around, she caught herself looking for him.
Stacey loved her little sister to death, but there was going to come a day when she got revenge for making her spend so much time with Alex. Not to mention for having to prance around in front of three hundred plus people wearing a skintight dress and killer heels.
Sure, the dress looked stunning on her sister’s flat-chested, no assed, stick-thin friends. It sure in hell wasn’t designed to be worn by a real woman. Stacey tugged the front higher over her very generous breasts. Why couldn’t her sister have at least chosen something with straps? Looking at herself in the elevator’s mirror walls, Stacy noticed the way her breasts nearly spilled out of the low-cut bodice. The material stretched so tightly across her hips she didn’t need to look to know her ass appeared huge.
She didn’t even bother staring at her face. She’d done so enough times already, because with her deep brown hair pulled back in a classic up-do instead of the soft loose waves she normally wore, she looked older and her face looked rounder. Neither was something on which she wanted to dwell. And the way the bright peachy color of the dress made her skin look blotchy was just depressing. Stacey preferred deep robust colors, or pale soft colors that complimented her naturally tanned skin. It was a gift from her father’s Italian heritage, she thought, and smiled a real, unforced smile for the first time in days.
Stacey noticed something black on a fold of her skirt and reached down to brush it off. It moved. Her hand stilled. A scream froze in her throat. A spider, the size of a quarter, crawled up her side. Her whole body trembled with fear. She knew it was irrational to be afraid of something so small, but she was. Gut-churning, scream-inducing, scared-out-of-her-wits, scared. She grabbed the skirt and gave it a hard shake, hoping the spider would fall off. It climbed higher. And faster! Damn its eight legs!
In a panic, she reached for the zipper under her arm and yanked it down. Whipping the dress to the floor, she kicked it away from her. She edged around the puddle of fabric towards the door in an attempt to get out of the way. The spider crawled into view, and she let out a little squeak. Trapped in the elevator, Stacey couldn’t get away. She had to squish the spider. Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she tentatively stretched out her leg. As if it sensed her movement, the spider dashed to the right and disappeared in the fold of shiny material.
Emitting a noise part growl, part whine, she stepped on the material. The little bugger slipped out of one fold and into another and her steps became stomps, each one emphasized with a grunt. The spider obviously wasn’t intimidated. It somehow managed to get on to the tip of her shoe.
“Ewww,” she squealed, waving her hands vigorously as she shook her foot. Luckily, the spider fell off.
The eight-legged beast scurried back into the pile of cloth. She resumed her stomping, harder this time. The elevator door chimed as the spider surfaced again, this time charging towards her. With one final stomp on the dress, she backed out of the doors into the hall.
“That’ll teach it.” A familiar deep voice said from behind her.
Stacey spun around, coming face-to-ruggedly-handsome-face with Alex. Standing with him was a group of older people obviously waiting for the elevator.
“Good Lord!” An old woman said another chimed in with a not so whispered, “Well I never!”
“I know,” said an elderly man with a chuckle.
Stacey searched for a place to hide. Deciding Alex was her best and only option, she ducked behind him and used his body as a shield. A loud symphony of whistles had her looking over her shoulder at a group of young men coming down the hall from the other direction.
“Hot damn!” One of them shouted.
~* * *~
Alexander Brandelman had been pacing the hall in front of the elevator anxious to get back down to the reception. Ignoring the group of older people standing nearby and eyeing him warily, he stabbed the call button again. One of the women shook her head with a ‘tsk’. Obviously, the expensive tuxedo hadn’t softened his rough edges enough to pass him off as refined.
He may have mellowed now that his sisters had married and settled down, but he was still too raw to be considered tame. That was something he’d never be. People sensed it, and that was fine with him, since he wasn’t into pretending to be something he wasn’t. That was one of the reasons he’d felt so drawn to Stacey. He’d noticed right off that she had no problem speaking her mind. She didn’t try to act all nice just to keep from rocking the boat, but she didn’t go out of her way to make waves either.
The bell finally dinged and the door slid open. He let out a sigh of relief, which he sucked right back in almost choking on it.
Stacey Ottanviano, the woman he’d been craving for the past four months, stood just inside the door stomping on a shimmering orange-ish pile of material, which if he wasn’t mistaken used to be her dress.
She wore nothing except what he could only think of as do-me high heels, sheer stockings attached to the sexiest pale yellow lace underwear garter belt combo that had little laces up the back and a matching strapless bra. What he spotted just above the edge of her panties had his head spinning.
Little miss light up my night had a ‘Tramp Stamp’.
It was an angel unlike any he’d ever seen. She had a crooked halo and tattered white wings stretched over each side of Stacey’s ass. The angel tattoo wore an old-fashioned pin-up style sexy white
dress showing off her full breasts, curvy hips, and shapely bare legs.
It was cute, yet sexy at the same time. And damn if he didn’t want to run his hands over it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the old women slap the arm of an old fogy trying to sneak a peek. Taking a step to the right, he blocked most of their view.
She started backing out of the elevator unaware of her audience. Alex would have thought this luscious vision of Stacey was a figment of his imagination, except she made a strangled growling sound that had him smiling.
“That’ll teach it,” he said, announcing himself and the others as the doors closed.
The look of panic on her face as the old codgers mumbled and stared ate at his heart. She slid behind him pressing herself against his back, and though it wasn’t the type of touching he had been looking for, his body reacted anyway. An old woman stepped forward and pressed the elevator button as whistles pierced the air. He shoved a clinging Stacy behind him. The old woman jumped back awkwardly.
“Jezebel.” One of the women hissed.
“That was rude and uncalled for.” Alex said, peeling Stacey’s hands off him as he turned back around to face the woman.
“We’ve been coming here for years and never have we encountered such a sight,” the woman said waving her hand in Stacey’s direction.
“And what a shame,” one of the old men said, giving Stacey a wink.
Alex slipped his tux coat off and put it around her shoulders. In one swift move, he scooped her up and carried her down the hall. He felt the heat on her cheeks as she buried her face in his neck. He stopped in front of his room door and realized the key card was in his coat pocket. Balancing her with his knee and arm, he slipped his hand inside the coat and tried to ignore the fullness of her breast as he brushed it with his hand. Grasping the key card, he yanked it out and shoved it into the lock.
The door clicked, and somehow, he managed to open it without dropping Stacey. He walked over and lowered her to the edge of the bed. He resisted the urge to ease her back and cover her body with his. Taking a step back, he turned away, giving her a minute to compose herself. He heard her moving around and looked over his shoulder in time to see her stand and wrap his coat tighter around her.
“Fucking shit. Shit. This can’t be happening.” She sounded a little hysterical as she walked around the room.
He stood perfectly still, holding up his hands. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“This is not going to be all right!” She screamed whipping open the jacket exposing all that tanned flesh and her breasts that looked ready to spill out of her strapless bra. A dangerous thing for a girl her size to be wearing, he thought, unable to hide his smile.
Table of Contents
8 Ways Onto The Naughty List
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten