Chapter 24
EVERLEE - DEVIL IN A DRESS
Last night was a long night. I didn’t get to sleep until almost midnight because thoughts kept bombarding me. To help, I went old-school and grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled the pros and cons, but in a fit, scratched it all out and balled it up.
The logical part of me wants to take a logical, systematic approach, while the other part wants to say screw it, figure it out as you go. At the end, I resolved to make a list of concerns that we can simply talk through.
I don’t want to get hurt. They don’t want to get hurt. We have a mutual desire to protect ourselves, even if it means making the hard decision now to not pursue this any further. But that’s what relationships are. Getting hurt repeatedly until you find the one or ones you can’t live without.
When I woke up this morning, there was a text from Emmett saying he’s picking me up from work tonight with an appointment time for La Belle’s at five thirty.
Checking my phone for the hundredth time today, I flip it over and try to ignore the fact that I still have fifteen minutes before he gets here.
My fingers tap impatiently on my desk as my eyes dart over the spreadsheet in front of me.
I’ve been staring at it for close to an hour now and haven’t made a bit of progress.
My stomach is a bundle of nerves and excitement and everything else in between.
This entire conversation feels almost like a marriage proposal.
It’s not. Obviously. But it carries the same weight.
We aren’t going into this saying we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, or that something won’t happen where we mutually walk away. We’re just saying the reasons for us walking away won’t be reasons that are avoidable now.
Same reason I fully believe on the third date you should ask your date if they want kids.
Seems a little too soon in the relationship, but I think it’s better to know something like that upfront.
If you aren’t on the same page, why waste your time?
You’ll get to a point much later down the line where one of you will try to convince yourself of something you don’t want, and eventually, years later, there will be anger and resentment. Just saying.
Unable to stand it, I cross the room to the window and look down. When I spot the limo waiting by the curb, a smile tugs at my lips and a flutter races through my belly.
He’s here.
In a limo.
That has to be him, right? It would be kind of embarrassing if it’s not.
Scurrying to my desk, I pick up my phone and text to see if he’s here, to which he responds immediately, confirming my suspicion.
Pulse hammering in my chest, I turn my computer off because, honestly, I’m not starting anything new with eleven minutes left in the day and I have been useless for the last sixty.
Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I make my way downstairs. By the time I get outside, Brady is standing by the back door with his hand on the handle.
“Good day, Ms. Everlee.”
“Brady.” I nod, smiling.
When I climb in, I’m shocked to see all the guys sitting in the car. The few butterflies I had before turn into hundreds! “Well, hello there,” I say in a somewhat awkwardly sultry voice.
They all nod, saying their forms of hello.
“How was your day?” Knox asks, planting a kiss on my cheek as I sit beside him.
“Better now.”
Emmett leans forward and pats my leg, asking me to put it in his lap, so I do. He slips my shoe off and starts rubbing the arch of my foot, and I slowly melt into the seat.
“You’re moaning,” Jax whispers.
“Sorry.”
“Damn it, Jax,” Knox whines. “Why do you always have to tell her?”
“I don’t need you ejaculating in your pants,” he snaps back.
Knox puckers his lips. “I didn’t realize you had so much cock awareness.”
Emmett has the hands of the Gods. And the mouth…
My mind flashes back to every time his lips are on me, causing my pussy to flutter.
Trying not to lose it on the ride to the dress shop, I close my eyes and let my head rest on the back of the seat.
I don’t know how much time passes, but when we hit a bump, my heart lurches in my throat and I sit up, hands pressed to the seat.
“We’re here.” Jax gently pats my leg, pulling me out of whatever blissful state I was in.
A few more minutes and he would have had to wake me up.
We walk in and Andre is wearing a flamboyant gold sequin top with a small poof at the bottom and tight black leather pants, holding a tray of champagne in his hand.
A huge smile lights his face when he sees me, and then his eyes grow wide as they travel to the four man-gods behind me. His hand wobbles and he does a full circle, somehow managing to hold up the tray of glasses without spilling a drop.
“Wow,” he breathes and leans over to whisper loudly to me. “Girl. Who are these delicious men?”
“They’re my friends.” I chuckle, not knowing what else to call them. Although we’d have to think of something, because why would four hotter than hell men go dress shopping with a girl?
“I want some friends like yours.” He fans himself before taking a long sigh before offering us champagne. “I was so excited when I saw your name on the appointment list. Easiest client I’ve had all year, and your body. Perfection.” He kisses the tips of his fingers.
The guys shift out of the corner of my eye and I catch their looks of agreement, which sends a fire through my core.
“What can I do for you today?”
Emmett steps forward slightly. “She needs a formal dress, preferably in the gray family. We’d also like our vests to match her dress, and this will all be on one bill.”
Andre lifts his brow and looks over his shoulder at me, and I just smile and shrug.
“We have several dresses that will look fantastic on you.” He throws his fingers in the air like he’s capturing a lightning bug, but in a super artistic way. “Let’s see if we can find your vests first since you all are… well… large-chested. I’ll have to get measurements.”
I chuckle under my breath at Andre’s face and general super-giddy demeanor.
“Sounds good,” Callum says, cutting his eyes at me with a playful smirk.
Andre directs us to a private room in the back that has a changing room and mirrors for walls. The center of the room has a raised platform with several light gray tufted chairs in a semicircle around it, with a dressing room in the corner.
“I’ll give you all this room, if that’s okay with you?” Andre asks, ushering us in. “If you’d like some more champagne, let me know.” When no one speaks, he whips the measuring tape off his shoulder. “Who’s my first victim?”
They all look at each other before Callum stands up, removing his jacket. He’s wearing his typical long -sleeved button-down in a dark blue today.
Andre gulps loudly, then walks over. “Arms out, please.” He pulls a notepad and pencil from his pocket and tucks it in his mouth, measuring around Callum’s arms, chest, and the length of his torso, jotting them down each time. “When is your event?”
“Tomorrow.” Emmett pulls his lips in apology.
Andre grabs his chest, flabbergasted, then cuts his eyes at me. “Give a man some time, why don’t you? Are you going to be the one who gets their wedding dress a few days before you get married too!” he teases.
With a laugh, I avert my gaze, trying to find something else to grab my attention. “I’m going to look for dresses while you boys are getting measured.”
Disregarding the concerned look that Callum gives me, I respond with a cheeky wink. I’m not leaving because of the wedding comment, but because I’m finding it difficult to see them all looking so delicious in a room like that.
Andre finds me thirty minutes later. “Girlfriend. Please tell me one, or all of them, are gay.”
I let out a light-hearted chuckle, shaking my head in amusement.
“That’s a damn shame,” he huffs, then looks around. “Well, we’ve found a vest for them. They must be the luckiest men in the world.”
“Because they know me?”
“Yes, darling, and because I happen to have vests here for them in two different colors.”
“Two?” I tease. “How did we get so lucky?”
“Girllll.”
“What colors are we working with?”
“We got a light silver or a slate gray. Men said whichever dress you find you like in those colors is the vest they’ll go with.”
I found a few dresses that caught my eye while I was walking around, so we go through the racks to see if they’re the right colors. Three of them are, but four are not, and one of the four was my favorite. Oh well! The others are still beautiful.
He grabs them off the rack and walks them back to the room and hangs them on several hooks. The guys are sitting casually in their seats, ankles propped on their knees, laughing and chatting while drinking their champagne. I wish I could take a picture of this moment and keep it with me forever.
“Which one do you want me to try on first?” I ask, and they all give different answers.
Andre suggests the lightest gray one, so I grab it and head into the changing room while Andre leaves to look for more options. He isn’t super thrilled with any of the choices we picked and thinks he can do better. Which doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I appreciate it.
I listen to the men talk about some baseball game they recently watched while I slip on the dress. It’s a light gray one-shoulder satin A-line dress with a slit up my left leg. When I walk out, the men’s heads turn to look at me, breathing fire into my bones.
Their looks.
The way it makes me feel. Untouchable.
I’d say it’s better than an orgasm. Maybe the orgasms with Rich, but with them…
nothing is better than their orgasms. They have taken me to new heights, new places, I didn’t think was possible.
They’ve reached into the depths of my soul to pull those suckers out like a pirate plundering for treasure deep in Atlantis.
That’s how far they’ve traveled to extract those tingly, mind-numbing, pussy-throbbing moments of bliss.