Chapter 21
Rosa
“I can’t breathe in this thing.”
I pressed my palms against the bone corset that Kristen and my mother forced me to put on as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Nothing about this dress spoke to me. Looked like me. Or represented me in any way, shape, or form.
It was entirely too tight, cinching my waist. The strapless sweetheart neckline dipped far too low for my liking and Kristen had put me in a push up bra that should be used as a torture device.
My boobs were close to my chin and one twist in the wrong direction could easily cause a wardrobe malfunction that would definitely get me and Noah on the cover of some magazines.
In the worst possible way.
“Well, maybe it is a bit much,” Kristen said, tugging on the strings at the back. “We could loosen it a little?”
“Absolutely not,” Mama argued. “It’s for one photo shoot. She can survive it and god forbid skip a lunch or two beforehand.”
The words stabbed in my chest. Words I’d heard so many times growing up. And after all this time, they still hurt.
My heels wobbled on top of the platform where I was surrounded by mirrors.
This was the problem with weddings. You ended up doing things, buying dresses, choosing flowers, food, etc to solely appease the people around you.
When the two people that should matter the most on the big day are simply ignored.
It didn't matter that this dress was something I would never pick for myself in a million years. It didn't matter that I didn't feel comfortable in it. It was what my mother wanted for me and it was what Kristen envisioned in a photo on the cover of People magazine. End of story.
My eyes wandered over to the corner where a discarded dress hung on a rolling rack.
It was as if someone had tried it on, didn't like it, and tossed it aside, forgotten.
It was simple and elegant, with just the smallest bit of lace ruching around the waist area.
The material also looked soft and flowy, perfect for dancing the night away with my arms around Noah, head resting on his shoulder.
I pointed across the room at it. "Could I try that one on?”
My mother scrunched her nose in distaste. “That one? It looks wrinkled.”
“It’s supposed to. I think that's the design,” I said.
Kristen tilted her head, then crossed to the dress, grabbing it off the rack and held it up to examine it. “It’s not the dress I would pick for you, but there is something very relatable about it. And that tends to poll well with fans.”
Polls. Fans. Ah yes. Once again, it wasn’t enough that it was what I liked. It was more important to consider how it would make me appear to everyone else.
Mama snorted, rolling her eyes. “Noah's fans will be looking for every reason to hate Rosa. Whether she wears Vera Wang or David’s Bridal, she'll either be hated for being too glamorous or not good enough for him.” Mama shot me a pointed look. “Or more likely, both .”
This very situation was exactly everything I had tried to avoid since the day I left California.
It was everything I thought I was leaving behind and walking away from.
Everything I thought I'd been avoiding in life, in a partner, and in my career.
Now, I was walking right back into it… and doing so willingly.
The front door chimed, tearing me out of my spiraling thoughts. My mother, Kristen, and the saleswoman all whipped around shouting at once, “We’re closed!”
But it wasn't a hopeful bride walking in off the street. It was Noah.
Mama and the saleswoman, Samantha, shrieked at him.
“No! You can’t see her in this,” Samantha yelled as she tried to usher Noah back out the front door. My mother ran in front of me, diving on top of me like I was a bomb she was trying to shield from exploding. As if her tiny frame could cover the dress from Noah’s view.
Noah startled, nearly falling back into a mannequin display of bridesmaids at their screams. “We were supposed to meet for lunch next door ten minutes ago,” he said, confused. “What’s the big deal?”
“You can’t see the bride in her dress before the wedding!” Samantha reiterated.
Noah caught my gaze from across the room to which I rolled my eyes in response with a shrug. “But …we’re already married,” he said.
Wait. Wait . If he sees me in this dress, that means I don’t have to wear it.
“It’s tradition , babe.” Then I click my tongue in fake frustration. “ Damn . I guess this isn’t the dress for me, afterall, huh, Mama? If Noah has seen me in it already, then it’s cursed.”
Mama took a step back from me, the disappointment clouding her features. “What a shame,” she sighed.
Across the room, Noah and I shared a quiet smile and I winked at him while beside me, Kristen cocked a brow, clearly onto me. I merely gave her a little shrug. I might as well use every piece of this to my full advantage, right?
“Why don’t we break for lunch?” Kristen said. “Rosa’s been at this for a few hours now. We can eat and have a glass of champagne, then come back and make a choice.”
Noah’s eyes went wide as he crossed the room to me. “You’ve been at this for hours ?”
I crossed my eyes at him, making a goofy face. “Oh yeah. It’s been great .”
Kristen, ushered my mother toward the door. “Come on, Francesca. I’ll walk you to lunch and give these two a little alone time.”
Thank God . Maybe Kristen wasn’t so bad afterall. I took Noah’s hand and dragged him into the dressing room with me. “Please tell me your day has also been the seventh circle of hell?” I whispered.
He winced. “Well, I’m not going to lie, your dad’s no picnic. But choosing a tux took all of thirty minutes.”
I groaned and fell back against the wall of the dressing room in a puff of taffeta.
When I opened my eyes, Noah’s eyes were locked onto my cleavage.
“So this isn’t your dress for the wedding?
” Noah asked, taking a step into me and dragging his fingertips slowly across the rhinestone sweetheart neckline.
Goosebumps lifted across my clavicle and I sighed at the tender stroke of his touch, my body responding immediately. “Do I strike you as a rhinestone kind of girl?”
He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Not particularly. But if we’re being fair, I’m pretty sure these are Swarovski crystals. I think Samantha would pop a blood vessel to hear you call them rhinestones.”
I grinned up at him, curling my fingers around the lapel of his shirt and tugged him closer to me. Pushing on my toes, I brushed my mouth to his. “Crystals are still rhinestones,” I whispered, my lips moving against his.
“Darlin’, you could tell me the sky was green right now and I wouldn't argue.”
I chuckled. “You like this dress that much?”
“I like how little of it there is up here,” he growled, then tugged at the bodice. With the easy tug of the fabric, my breasts sprang free. He exhaled a pleasure-filled hiss, taking me into his hands as my breathing grew heavier, deeper and my nipples puckered in the cool air conditioned room.
In his large palm, he plumped one, then pinched my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “I take it back,” he said, his voice low and growly. “I think it's less about the dress and more about the girl wearing it.”
Both my head and knees went weak as he dropped his mouth to my breast and closed his lips around my nipple. I moaned, my fingers gliding into his soft hair. “Well since I'm not wearing it to the wedding, I don't see any reason why we can't?—”
Noah didn't even let me finish the thought before his hands gripped my waist and spun me around. My palms landed against the mirror and I gasped as he hitched the dress up to my waist and gently nudged my legs to spread them wider.
“Fuck, it should be illegal how damn hot you look right now.” From the reflection of the mirror, I watched as his eyes did a slow scan of my body.
His lips parted and his wide, lust-filled eyes dilated.
Keeping his gaze locked on mine, I distantly heard the sound of his zipper, followed by the rustling sound of a condom tearing open.
“You better not rip this dress,” I teased, giving him a cheeky smile in the mirror.
“Fuck the fucking dress,” Noah growled. “I'll buy the damn thing if we rip it. I’ll buy ten of them. I don’t fucking care.”
I felt him position himself at my entrance and we moaned together as he sank inside of me. The grip of his hands at my hips tightened. “Fuck,” he whispered, nipping at my shoulder. “New fantasy unlocked.”
He paused inside of me, filling and stretching me in the most delicious way. I wanted more. Faster. Deeper. And I wiggled my hips, pushing back into him and relishing the way he hissed, his hands wrinkling the fabric as he clutched me like he was holding on for dear life.
“Do you have a thing for sex in wedding gowns now?” I asked him.
“When you're the one wearing it, abso-fucking-lutely.”
Bending forward, he placed a kiss on the back of my neck making goosebumps race down my shoulders and arms. Then, slowly pulling out, he thrust into me even deeper than before. My responding noise was half moan, half a gasp, as I fell forward to rest my cheek against the cool mirror.
Reaching down, his hand disappeared beneath the cascading waves of white fabric, his thumb finding my clit. “Noah,” I cried as he slammed into me, picking up the pace, thrusting faster as his thumb circled me.
It took almost no time at all for my climax to crash down, my muscles spasming against his thrusting cock, clenching and releasing, wave after wave.
“You’re fucking gorgeous when you come,” he growled. With four more heavy thrusts, he collapsed, tugging me into him and holding me tightly in place as he pulsed from inside me.
We collapsed against the mirror, Noah whispering sweet nothings and kissing my bare shoulder up to my neck. “Would it be totally insane if I bought this dress and requested you wear it from time to time?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “That would be totally insane.”
“Insane in an adorable charming way? Or in a restraining order way?”
I turned to face him and his eyes softened as we leaned there in each other’s arms.
For the first time, this felt real .
I felt like a bride.
It felt like he was my groom.
I skimmed my thumb over his lips, memorizing every line of his beautiful face. “Come on, Casanova,” I whispered. “Help me get out of this and into my real clothes.”
A full five minutes later, I was dressed, coming out of the dressing room to find Noah up front near the register chatting with Samantha. Thankfully, the dress was nowhere in sight.
“Are you ready for lunch?”
On cue, my stomach growled. “ So ready.” Noah glided his arms around my waist tugging me into his side. With a final wave at Samantha, I said, “I’ll see you in a bit.” Because unfortunately, we were far from done.
Even though we were only going a few doors down to the little Italian restaurant, we barely made it four steps out the front door before a shrill voice stopped us both in our tracks.
“Noah!” I turned slowly to face one of the most stunning women I’d ever seen.
She was so glamorously beautiful and so familiar looking that I was literally speechless standing there staring at her. Her full bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. “Tell me it isn’t true!”
Despite his arm being around me, she launched herself at Noah, hugging him.
“Morgan, what are you doing here?” Noah asked, pushing her off of him.
“Morgan?” I repeated, recognizing the name. The pieces started clicking together. That’s where I knew her from. She was in Noah’s show with him. “As in your costar?”
He’s a chronic showmancer, his family’s words from game night rang in my brain as I stared back at the stunning actress in front of me.
He gave me a short nod but before he could answer me himself, Morgan turned her snake-like green eyes to me. With an arched brow, she said, “As in his ex .”