Darcy returned with high-heeled designer sandals, the crisscross straps covered in the same kind of rhinestones as the dress. The heels were a bit high, but manageable as I practiced walking in them. When Darcy walked me over to one of the full length mirrors, I knew I needed to look no further.
Darcy was now batting two for two.
We didn’t leave her apartment until well after one o’clock in the morning, after she had prepared for the minor alterations that needed to be done. This time we didn’t bother with a cab. Devlin had a personal car at the condo, which surprised me, until he told me that he still lived off and on in Vegas, depending on the available work.
It reminded me yet again that he was an escort, paid to romance and seduce women. Lots of women. As I sat in that high-performance exotic two-seater that his gigolo work likely paid for, I couldn’t help but wonder how many women had ridden in it with him, where they had gone, and what they had done. It was a masochistic thought, but it dogged me almost all the way back to the hotel. I clammed up, and he noticed immediately.
“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought the crisis was averted.”
“It is. I’m just tired I guess. We didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
He grinned as he captured my hand in his, to brush against the palm of my hand with his thumb. “Is that a complaint?”
I finally smiled before I shook my head. “So how often do you come back to Vegas?”
He shrugged as he withdrew his hand. “Whenever is needed,” was all he would say.
“Is the work better here than in Los Angeles?” I asked. It was a dumb question to ask, and the way his mouth thinned out his smile only proved it.
“I’ve found it’s usually not a good idea to discuss the specifics of my work, Coralie. Best not to mix business with pleasure.”
It was an odd little statement from someone whose business was pleasure. “Why?” I asked. “It’s not like we have any secrets. Our relationship is about as straightforward as it gets.”
He sent me a side-eye glare. “Because usually those are questions no one really wants an answer to, that’s why. You’ll ask me about all the women I date, and I’ll give you the information you don’t want to hear, and then a perfectly nice week together is blown all to hell by things that don’t really matter.”
“If they don’t matter, then what’s the problem?”
His tone was sharp, which took me by surprise. “Look. I don’t have many rules, but that’s one of them. So let’s drop it, okay?”
“Okay,” I said softly as I turned to stare out the window. Moments later I heard him sigh. He once again reached for my hand.
“I’m sorry, Coralie. Let’s just say I’ve been burned and leave it at that.”
I stole a glance his direction. His face had hardened, and I knew that there was something more to the story, and it wasn’t good. “Okay,” I repeated, and I let the subject drop.
He dropped the car off with the valet and we made our way up to our room. The minute the elevator doors closed behind us, Devlin pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a deep, probing kiss that took the place of any conversation. His hands roamed over my back and hips as he held me close against his hardening body.
When we got to the room, he dragged me straight to our bedroom, where he cupped my head with one hand while he started to undress me with the other. There was an urgency there, but not like the night before. It was almost as if he was running away from something, from thoughts or memories. He shed my clothes in an instant before he lifted me up and tossed me on the bed, following behind to crush his mouth on mine.
His skillful fingers quickly distracted me as he bared my body and played it like a finely tuned instrument. There was no teasing like the night before, though. He was rock hard and ready within minutes. After the few seconds it took to put on a condom, he quickly fit himself between my legs, disappearing inside of me with a grunt.
“Devlin,” I said, but he captured my mouth for another kiss. It was like he didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to feel. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. We barely broke apart for air as he lost himself inside me. I found myself matching his urgency. I took off just a second before he shoved himself inside for one final thrust. His darkened eyes stared into mine. I knew he could feel my body contract all around him. When he kissed me again, it was so slow and tender it melted my heart… though I knew that it shouldn’t.
Despite the work he did, despite the fantasy he had created, I knew in that moment I had seen a part of Devlin that not very many people got to see. It made me feel every bit as special as he was tasked in making me feel, which dangerously blurred the lines between my fantasy and our reality.
I tried my very best to keep sight of that, but it was damned hard while in his powerful embrace. He gathered me into a hug just like a teddy bear, cuddling me close in the crook of his arm. I could feel his thundering heartbeat just under my ear, so I caressed his chest, absent little figure eights drawn with my fingers until he began to softly snore. I was able to stare at him unobserved in the low light, studying how the lines erased themselves from his face as he slept. He looked younger, more at ease and carefree, which was funny because before our ride back to the hotel, I completely bought his act that was exactly what he was.
As I lay there watching him, it occurred to me that he was so much more than a paid escort. The top layer was for my benefit, proving he was a chameleon, easily adaptable to different people and different scenarios. But those still waters definitely ran deep. Underneath the façade, he was a man with secrets and insecurities and failures and triumphs, even if I didn’t yet know what they were. He wasn’t some blank slate. He was a mystery. And suddenly I wanted to know more.
I wanted to know everything.
The logical, analytical angel on one shoulder whispered that this would be the time to leave. We were skating on thin ice. I needed to keep my perspective.
The impulsive, greedy devil on the other shoulder told her to shut the fuck up. Here we were in the arms of a sexy man who knew how to please us, how to entice us, how to make us feel every single thing we always wanted to feel. And it was more than just the sex stuff, too. He saw how dissatisfied I was in my quest for a dress and made sure I got what I needed, and wanted, something that made me happy, even when it danced dangerously close to breaking his own rules of self-preservation to do so. I couldn’t remember a time anyone I had ever dated had risked anything at all simply to make me happy. “What if you leave now and never find this again?” the devil whispered, and that even gave my angel pause.
I rested my head on Devlin’s chest. It was a while before I finally closed my eyes to sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Wait. I don’t understand. What?”
Lucy uttered these words as we rode the elevator downstairs, to finalize wedding plans now that I had finally found the perfect dress. Given that she went to bed twelve hours before thinking the search for said item would take up the bulk of our weekend, her confusion was understandable.
I handed her my phone so she could see the photo of the dress. “What can I say? I guess I found a fairy godmother.”
Lucy sucked in a breath as she looked at the photo. “God, that’s fucking beautiful. And you look beautiful in it.”
“I felt beautiful in it,” I told her with a smile. “As someone who needs to shop both in plus and petite sizes, you know how rare and random that is for me.”
She handed my phone back to me. “It doesn’t help that your father and your boyfriend pile onto the problem, making you think those sizes set you apart from what’s normal.”
“Tell me about it,” I grumbled. “But they’re men. They don’t understand what it’s like to spend hours in a dressing room in front of an unforgiving mirror, picking apart every flaw, tossing back way more clothes than you ever keep.”
“True story,” she responded. The door opened and we spilled out into the lobby.
“T
hat I’ve now found the perfect dress, the perfect look and the perfect fit twice now with Darcy isn’t some happy accident. I’d love to snag her for an exclusive line at Cabot’s. She’s undiscovered, she’s struggling. It’d be a win/win for both of us.”
Lucy grimaced. “Yeah, but it could get really complicated really fast, too. The best thing about your arrangement with Devlin is your foolproof exit strategy, remember? If you sign his sister on as a designer for the shop, you may never get rid of him.”
I didn’t tell Lucy as much, but that little detail actually fell into the ‘pro’ column for me. After waking up to fresh roses and room service, and an early morning spent making up for the weirdness of the night before, I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the end of our week together.
Granted, everything we shared was pure fantasy, not a real relationship. But that was the benefit of having a lot of money, I supposed. It was a fantasy I could finance as long as I wanted. As long as I could pay, he would show up. At least by helping his sister, I’d be investing in something more than a tussle between the sheets.
Who knew what could happen from there?
You know those sirens you hear whenever a tornado is coming? Or maybe the alarms that sound when a submarine is diving from the surface, or when zombies have broken free in civilized society? I was totally surprised that Lucy couldn’t hear the alarm bells the angel on my shoulder sounded as my thoughts ventured to these dangerous places.
She should have heard them. It was her job to hear them. But this is what happens when you make your partner in crime your moral conscience. I was on a highway to hell, and Lucy didn’t mind putting the top down so that we could enjoy the ride.
What was I thinking?
We stopped first to consult with Deidre, to hammer out the final few details of the wedding, like picking the music and designing my bouquet to match the new dress. We were done within a half-hour. Now that Deidre knew all the specifics for Lucy’s special day, she could take over executing these plans so Lucy could spend the next few days relaxing and pampering herself. The only things left were the rehearsal on Tuesday and the wedding on Wednesday; Deidre could handle the rest.
This immediately freed up our day, which we had originally blocked off for some hard-core speed shopping to secure my dress. Devlin had previously arranged an early tee time at a local golf course, so he and Gus could do something a little more exciting than sit around a casino waiting for us to return, and there seemed little reason to change those plans. The boys deserved some down time, after all.
This meant Lucy and I were two young, hot chicks in Sin City with nothing to do but pass the time.
We ended up planted in front of a couple of slot machines, where we drank imported beer (you know, for variety,) and simply enjoyed each other’s company. For the first time in a long while, we weren’t worrying about weddings, parents or boyfriends. We could drink, laugh and gamble to our hearts’ content until the boys got back that afternoon.
“So what’s Devlin’s sister like, anyway?” Lucy asked as she pulled the lever on her machine. All she really had to do was push a button, but she liked it better the old fashioned way.
“She’s… unique. Nothing like what you’d expect.”
“Meaning…?”
“She’s actually heavy,” I finally said, lowering my voice over the word as if it were shameful. I immediately chastised myself. I knew better than that. “Size 20 or 22, maybe even higher.”
“Well, that explains how she can create such kick-ass plus-sized clothing.” I glared at her and she promptly caught her error. “Sorry. ‘Extended’ size.”
“You owe me a quarter,” I told her.
“Yeah, yeah. Put it on my tab.” Another pull of the lever. “Interesting. I guess that makes sense, though, since Devlin isn’t at all bothered by your size like you thought.”
I shrugged. I still wasn’t completely convinced. “They’re close from what I could tell. She has all these old photos taped to the mirror in her bedroom, dating all the way back to when they were kids. I saw photos of his mother,” I told her. “She was beautiful.”
“Was?”
“Let’s just say she wasn’t in the most recent photos.”
Lucy shrugged as she pulled the lever again. “Maybe she doesn’t care for his line of work. I can’t imagine that’s a comfortable topic for the family.”
I hadn’t considered that. I just assumed that Darcy knew what her brother did for a living. “Maybe,” I conceded. I fell silent, but Lucy could read me like a book.
“You do realize you’re in dangerous territory, I hope.”
#BoutDamnedTime
“What do you mean?” I asked, though I already knew.
“I know you’re having a good time with Devlin, and it stands to reason. He’s hot. He’s good company. From the way your skin is clearing up, I’m sure he’s a champion in the sack. But this isn’t the makings of a relationship, Ceece. You know that. As long as you’re paying him, you’re his customer, and he’s your random, wicked indulgence.”
Though I had been waiting for someone with more sense than me to rain on my parade, I realized in an instant that I didn’t want to hear these fears validated outside my own head. My devil and I could handle my angel. She was really kind of a wuss. But Lucy Lyon? That was a formidable opponent, I didn’t care who you were.
“Weren’t you the one telling me that he likes me? That he fits?”
She sighed in exasperation. “Of course. And yes, I think he does like you. Yes, I think he does fit. But as long as he’s taking your money, he’s still just a guy doing a job. You wanted me to help you keep sight of that, remember?”
“I know. I just,” I said, trailing off. “There’s more to him than the sex stuff. I just want to find out what it is.”
“You’re playing with fire, girl,” Lucy warned. “At the end of this week, you’re still going to go back to L.A., back to your dad and Cabot’s, and back to Oliver.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” I said as I cashed out my winnings and moved to another slot machine. She chased after me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, whether it’s with Devlin or not, I know now what kind of relationship I want. And I don’t think Oliver’s capable of giving it to me. I mean, it’s like the whole dress thing. I needed to find the proper fit to be truly happy. I don’t want to spend my life with something I settled on just because I thought I couldn’t find a perfect match.”
Devlin had taught me that. I didn’t say as much to Lucy.
“Fair point,” she conceded anyway.
“For the record, my plans with Darcy have nothing to do with that. I really do think she’s talented and could use the break. That’s all.”
“Liar,” she grinned. Only she could call me out like that. And only she would be correct in doing so. I hadn’t been able to pull anything over on her since we were five years old.
“Okay, fine. They have a little bit to do with it. I’m having a good time with Devlin. I don’t want it to end yet. Knowing there’s a timer on this week bums me out. Already our time together is almost halfway done and it sucks. Okay? Are you happy?”
“Tremendously,” she said. “So what are we going to do about it?”
I arched an eyebrow. “We?”
She grabbed my hand in hers and squeezed. “Whether it’s a dress or a man, I’m by your side one hundred percent to help you land the one you want. Partners in crime for life, remember?” she added with another grin. “You may be in dangerous territory, girl, but a Lyon’s always got your back.”
Lucy was right. I was in very dangerous territory. I was blurring the line between innocent fantasy and more complicated reality and I knew it. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I supposed that was why I didn’t fight Lucy when she suggested we act quickly, because before I knew it the week would be over and my window of opportunity would slam shut.
So crazy or not, I followed my ferocious Lyon, m
y partner in crime, back up to her suite so we could strategize and plan.
We made it to Darcy’s place by early afternoon, bringing a late lunch with us. I wanted to have a reason to stay longer than the ten minutes or so it would take to alter Lucy’s dress–our bullshit reason we needed to see her right away, and without Devlin.
That Lucy tore out a couple of stitches in the already perfectly altered dress to arrange said meeting underscored Lucy’s commitment to me as a lifelong partner in crime and BFF.
Darcy didn’t look much different than the night before. She still wore the same purple, wraparound dress and ballet flats, and her frizzy hair was even more askew. I wondered at once if the poor thing had even been to bed.
“Come on in,” she told us as we entered the cluttered townhome. Once again she had to clear off a spot for us to sit. She pulled Lucy’s wedding dress from the box to inspect the damage. “This really is spectacular. Where did you find it?”
“At a bridal shop in the Valley,” Lucy answered. “It was used, actually. A consignment sale.”
Darcy nodded. That made a lot of sense to her, given the vintage look and feel of the unusual dress.
“You ever think about doing that?” I asked her.
Darcy simply shrugged. “Things are pretty chaotic at the moment. I can barely keep up with the special orders I do have, much less create other things to maybe sell somewhere at some shop.”
“What if someone paid you in advance?” I suggested.
Her eyes met mine. “Who would do that?”
“Me,” I said simply. “I love your work, Darcy. And I want to sell your clothes at Cabot’s.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Cabot’s? You mean the big department store?”
I nodded. “My family owns it. I’m currently a marketing director, but I’m eyeing an eventual promotion to CEO. The first order of business is to expand our extended sizes.”
Sure it was wishful thinking at this point, but I was in sales so I was pretty good at making wishful thinking sound like the truth. Devlin and I had a lot in common that way.
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