“Oh.” There’s more! I’m excited and nervous and surprised and elated and a thousand other emotions all at once.
“You, little Abby, have a killer body.”
This statement throws me. What in god’s name is he talking about? I glance down at the plain white button-down blouse I’m wearing. Killer body? Has he gone insane? I giggle at the very idea and say, “Oh, come on.”
“You think I’m joking?” He doesn’t sound amused.
“Of course,” I say, fanning my burning cheeks the best I can.
“I’m not joking.” There’s a long, silent pause. “But it doesn’t matter if you believe me, you handed over your list to me and now your only job is to please me. Do you know what will please me, Abby?”
I can’t figure out if I should scream or faint. I clear my throat and attempt to play it cool. “I have no idea.”
There’s no hesitation on the other end of the line. “You, poured into the tightest, sexiest black dress you can find. I want every single curve on display.”
I laugh again. Is this some sort of a joke? “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious.”
Oh. Throat dry, I lick my lips. “I don’t have a skimpy black dress.”
“Then you’d best go shopping at lunch and pick one out.”
I ask again, not sure I’m quite able to buy this. “Are you messing with me?”
“I am not. I’m telling you exactly what I expect to find when you open the door.”
He’s not backing down. I think he’s serious. What would a feminist do? Tell him she’d dress how she liked most likely. But even as I mentally scan my closet I’m envisioning myself shopping for something black and slinky. Something befitting a date with Lukas Marlow. I can go shopping on my lunch hour. I’ve never shopped for a skintight black dress before and I find the prospect exciting.
“Understood?” The word sounds like a sharp command and I can’t deny it makes my belly dip.
“I’m sure I can think of something,” I manage to say, my mind still racing with the possibilities. My sister probably has the perfect black dress already hanging in her closet with the tags still on. Eden is a size two to my size eight and never lets me forget it, but maybe, if all else fails, I can call her and ask where to go shopping.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Lukas says, startling me out of my anxiety in finding the perfect dress.
“Yes?”
“I want your pussy bare. I want to feel nothing but satin-smooth skin when I make you come.”
Shocked at his words, I suck air into my tight lungs. No one haseversaid anything like that to me. It’s blunt. Crude. And so…dirty. Right in line with my fantasies. My nipples pucker into tight points, rubbing exquisitely against my bra.
Lukas Marlow is so out of my league, but I’m determined to take advantage anyway. If I’m going to learn, might as well learn from the best.
His low voice comes over the line. “You want to back out now, little girl?”
The “little girl” crack snaps me to attention. It’s a dare.
Determination to go through with this crazy idea has me straightening in my chair. After this is over I’ll have to move to a new neighborhood, but it will be worth it. This phone call is already better than the sex I’d had with the couple of guys I’d slept with and I have nothing to lose. Chin tilting, I say, “No, I’m ready.”
“Good. I’ll see you at eight.”