Chapter 18: The Green Dress

On Friday night I stood in front of Justin's bedroom mirror in the green dress, with my hair up and my back to him.

Reed's recording was saved on my phone in three places, and I had played every minute of it twice.

Tomorrow, in front of four hundred people, I would find out whether I used it.

"Zip me," I said.

"I'm thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?"

"Whether I want to."

He was behind me in shirtsleeves, and his eyes were on mine in the glass.

He drew the zipper up one slow inch at a time, and his knuckles dragged along my spine.

At the top he stopped.

He put his mouth on the back of my neck.

"Tomorrow they're all going to look at you," he said against my skin. "I'd like to be the last one tonight."

"Justin."

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"You keep asking."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"If you stop, I'll hurt you."

I felt him laugh, hot, against my shoulder.

His hands went to my hips and pulled me back against him, and I felt exactly how hard he already was.

I pushed back into it, and he made a sound in his throat.

"Look at the mirror," he said.

I looked.

He gathered the skirt in both fists and drew it up over my thighs, slowly, until it bunched at my waist.

I had nothing on under it but a strip of black lace.

He looked at me in the glass for a long moment, breathing hard.

"You did that on purpose," he said.

"I did."

"You wore this to my apartment on purpose."

"I wanted you to find out."

He slid one hand down the front of the lace and pressed two fingers against me.

I was already wet, and he felt it, and swore softly.

"Hands on the dresser," he said.

I put them there.

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