Sally did her best to cover up, splaying one hand over her boobs, and the other over her crotch. But, the effort was futile. Jack took a step toward her.
"How did you get in here?"
"You left your door open, Sally. Anyone could've walked in."
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," he said in a strange, low voice.
An awkward silence stretched out between them—well, at least it was awkward for her; Jack didn't look uncomfortable at all. Her eyes darted about wildly, looking for an escape route back to her bedroom, but before she could even take a step, Jack moved toward her again. It should have excited her. Jack was taking a step in her direction, instead of away from her. He was looking at her—sure, he had a frown on his face, but for the first time ever, he was looking at her like she was more than just a pain-in-his-arse.
The problem with all that was, now that she had his attention, she had no idea what to do. So, she did the first thing that came into her mind and took another step back from him. He only copied her action, moving forward again, and as Sally tried to retreat further, she found herself pressed against the mirror, the cold, hard surface leaving her breathless as she came into contact with it.
Unable to go any further, Sally watched, frozen, as Jack looked at her, his eyes wide as they travelled slowly up the length of her body, and then down again. Suddenly, he took her hands in his and moved them away from what they were covering. His eyes lingered on her breasts, nestled high and firm in the lacy, red material, completely exposed to his gaze.
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he only tightened his grip on her. "Stay still, Sally," he said quietly, firmly.
She'd wanted this moment for years, but now that she was living it, all she wanted to do was die. It felt like Jack's eyes were burning torturously into her skin. No man had ever seen this much of her, and part of her wanted to cover up and hide away like she always did—while another part of her wanted Jack to keep looking and never stop.
She opened her eyes again. "Jack, I have to finish getting dressed, or we'll be late for the party," she said to him, her mouth dry. She'd tried to sound calm, but it came out like a plea. She needed to be in the sanctuary of her bedroom, right away.
"Not yet," he said, turning her around so that she now faced away from him. "I want to see what I paid for yesterday."
"Jack, please," she said weakly.
"How did you manage to hide this away from me?"
"What? The lingerie?"
"No, this incredible body. Why would you hide this away?"
"I... really? You think my body is incredible?"
"I had no idea. You wear those awful clothes all the time."
"I like the clothes I wear."
"Bullshit. Look at yourself, Sally, and tell me why."
Their eyes connected once more in the mirror. His were softly hooded. They were normally hazel, but now and then—depending on Jack's mood—they were closer to green, as they were right then.
She didn't hold the contact for long. She dropped them to a point in the distance while she spoke. "I don't have a lot of confidence in my body image," she said, which was more than she'd ever told anyone.
"But there's not an ounce of fat on you. How?"
"I run," she said, shrugging her shoulders. Jack continued to stare at her, and Sally squirmed again under his gaze. "Can I go now?"
"By all means." His eyes raked over her body again, and he finally let her go.
Regaining her equilibrium now that Jack was no longer touching her, she took a step away from him. She looked at him for a beat before she turned and walked toward her bedroom. But, she could still feel Jack's eyes upon her, watching her every move, and it was making her nervous. She was certain she was going to trip. Her legs had turned to jelly. Just as she thought she was doing all right, her left ankle started to wobble in the ridiculously high heels Zoe had insisted she wear. Then, her knee began to tremble, and the only thing that stopped her from going arse-over-tit in her lacy underwear was the wall beside her. She braced herself against it. She breathed. She was still upright, but her shoe had come off in the whole embarrassing process.
"Geez, Sal, I hope you don't do that tonight in front of all the guests," Jack said.
Quick as lightning, Sally bent, picked up the shoe, and aimed it square at Jack's head, making sure the spiked heel was pointed directly between his eyes. He moved his head to the side, and the shoe sailed harmlessly past him. He chuckled when it landed on the floor.
"Gah," she said, exasperated, as she traversed the remaining distance to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
She exhaled long and deep once she was alone again, grabbing onto the back of the bed and trying desperately to compose herself—but not for too long. She didn't want Jack busting into her room, as well. She got busy getting dressed in the clothes Jack was meant to see her in—not the stupid, silly lingerie.
Sally ripped the bra and undies off her body. She no longer felt like getting dressed at all. She wanted to stay at home and maybe hang out in her jeans again—but Jack was already there, and she had a feeling he would drag her along no matter what she was wearing. She forced herself into the black lingerie, and then the sexy black dress, and then back into the single brightly-coloured shoe she still had in her possession. She would need to get the other one from Jack.
When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror. If only she'd been ready when Jack walked in, instead of wasting time looking at herself. If only he hadn't turned up so goddamned early. Holy fuck, she'd been practically naked when he walked in. She would've coped a whole lot better if she were wearing clothes. She felt like a nervous wreck. Her confidence was down, and her stomach felt like she had psychotic butterflies flying around in it.
Praying she could make it through the night in the shoes Zoe had picked out for her—and not stack it the way she had in front of Jack—she prepared herself to face him again. Pasting a determined smile on her face, she peered tentatively around the corner. Jack was still there, waiting for her. She deepened her smile and forced herself to appear more relaxed. She was doing a good job of it, too—until Jack turned around. He had her shoe, ready to give back to her, but his hand dropped to his side when he saw her enter the room. The frown he'd had on his face ever since he'd arrived in her house had deepened into a scowl.
She felt the smile on her face splinter, and her confidence plummeted even lower. "You hate it? I told Zoe it wasn't right for me."
Jack said nothing, just continued to stare.
"What's your problem, Jack?!" she exploded at him, finally snapping.
****
His problem? Jack almost laughed. He suddenly had a very big problem. His cock was twitching in his pants—all because he was looking at Sally. That was a very big problem, indeed.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Sally said.
He needed to think of an answer. He cleared his throat. "It's a little bit more than I expected," he said. Way more.
"Fuck you, Jack. First, you wanted me to dress like a lady, and now, you're telling me it's too much?"
"It's not that..." Dammit, he was confusing her.
"And anyway, what would you even know about women's fashion? Apart from how to take off a bra with one hand?"
"What would you know?"
Sally opened her mouth and shut it again. She smoothed a stiff hand through her hair and played with the hem of her dress, unable to look him in the eyes, like all the fight had suddenly left her.
"I just... I'm not used to seeing such a short dress on you," he said, trying to make things better.
"Well, if you think I look like a slut, I can get changed into my jeans again."
"Hang on a second. I didn't say you looked slutty."
"But, I do, right?"
She reminded him of an awkward teenager—so unsure of herself—and he felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. "This is perfect for tonight," he said, hoping he sounded a little more enthusiastic about her dress. He stepped toward her, but she darted back again. "Relax. I just wanted to give you your shoe."
"Oh, thanks," she replied, her cheeks flushing in the most interesting way again. She took the shoe and placed it on the floor, which gave him another really good view of her lush tits.
"So, Zoe helped you with all this?'
"Yes," said Sally, shoving her foot into the shoe, then finally looking up at him again. "I think she enjoyed it."
"I'm positive she did." He suddenly realised he'd been frowning, which had probably confused her, too. His comments on her dress probably hadn't helped with her self-confidence, either. The truth was, he was more than satisfied with what he saw before him. In fact, she'd confounded him, and his body was doing weird things right now. Responding to Sally in a sexual way was definitely weird.
Self-consciously, she smoothed a hand over the fabric of the dress covering her arse. Jack clenched his jaw in response, a jolt of awareness shooting through him. Any other woman would've known what effect that action would have on a man, but he doubted Sally did at all. He should probably keep an eye on her tonight. Someone would take advantage of her, for sure.
You're just worried someone will beat you into tapping that arse. Damn, where had that thought jumped out from? He didn't want Sally. He didn't want Sally at all.
"Let's go," he said.
He was alone in a house with a woman he'd unexpectedly realised was gorgeous, and he was even having sexual thoughts about her. It was time to go. He was a busy and important man tonight, and he didn't need Sally's sudden transformation from an ugly duckling into a swan distracting him from what he needed to do—schmooze. He spun on his heel and walked back out the front door, expecting her to follow.
Sally only just realised that Jack was wearing a suit. He rarely wore a suit. He was mostly in his riding leathers, or his overalls. Sometimes—on the sweltering days in the workshop—he worked half-naked. But, it had been a while since she'd seen him in a suit—and predictably, he looked amazing. His shoulders seemed even broader, thanks to the excellent cut of the material. As she watched him walk away, she realised he'd once again managed to make her feel both turned-on and infuriated at the same time. It seemed to be a particular talent of his.
She followed him outside, his shiny, black F250 parked in her driveway. It was his new baby, the truck that Jack drove when he wasn't riding his bike. She walked over to it, mentally steeling herself for getting into the thing. Even worse, she had an audience. Her nosy neighbour, Mrs. Edgar, was peering most indiscreetly through her front window.
Sally climbed into the seat. Yup, it sure was high. Her dress was tight, and her heels were towering. It was a struggle, but she'd be damned if she was going to ask Jack for help getting in. She was sure a woman like Mia wouldn't have even needed to ask for help.
Jack took off once she was inside, gunning the engine a little too quickly and spinning the wheels on her gravel driveway. Sally looked across at Mrs. Edgar—who was still looking—and then at Jack. But, he was looking straight ahead, so she trained her vision on the passing landscape instead. They travelled in silence for most of the ten-minute ride to the workshop, where the cocktail party was being held.
Sally sat sullenly in the car beside him. She was nervous; the twiddling thumbs in her lap were a bit of a giveaway.
"So, how much did Zoe make me spend on your new wardrobe yesterday?" he asked.
Sally turned away from the window to look at him. "Women's fashion isn't cheap, you know," she said, reluctant to admit to what it had all cost him. He could wait until he got his credit-card statement, but she knew that what she'd spent over the last two days was more than she'd spent on clothes in her lifetime.
"Oh, right. So, you're an expert now?" Jack slanted a glance in her direction, amused at her.
"Zoe gave me a few tips," Sally said.
"Yeah, right. Tips on how to land a loaded businessman with one makeover?"
She shot a filthy look at his profile while he drove. "I'm not that stupid or shallow, Jack," she fired at him. "As if anyone would find me attractive. A pretty dress and some makeup won't change that. I'm only doing this because you demanded it."
"That's not what I meant—"
"I've done what you've asked and dressed appropriately for the evening. Now, you're telling me I'm a slutty, gold-digging tramp. I don't even want to go to your stupid cocktail party, anyway," she snapped just as they pulled up at the workshop. The second the car was stationary, she jumped out and ran straight inside.
"Sally, wait!" Jack called out, but it was too late; she had already disappeared inside the office. That horrible feeling twisting inside his gut returned. Fuck, he thought in the quiet car, mildly surprised by how quickly she was able to get around in those impossibly high heels.
He was the biggest dick in history. Jack realised he should have probably chased her down and told her what he thought of her dress and that she looked... beautiful. But, he wasn't going to. He had too much to do to worry about Sally. He got out of his car and headed toward the office.
Just as he entered, Zara walked past. Perfect.
"Jack, you're late," she said.
"I would've been on time..." Jack mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing. Hey, listen. I've got a bit of a problem. Sally's gone and locked herself away. I think she might be in the back office." At least, that's where he hoped she'd gone. "Can you go and find her? Maybe tell her she looks great or something and get her to come to the party?"
Zara rolled her eyes. "What is she upset about?'
"I might have said something," he mumbled again as he walked off.
Zara watched Jack as he hunted down Cody and they smashed their knuckles together in greeting. "Men," she said, rolling her eyes again. She went in search of Sally, trying to think of some standard comments about her appearance to make her feel better, like "Your jeans look great; no one here will even notice," or perhaps, "Wow, Sally, I like what you've done with your hair."
Zara knew exactly what to expect when she finally got Sally to open the bathroom door in the back office. At least, she'd thought she did, and she couldn't hide her reaction to Sally's appearance when she finally opened the door. Her mouth gaped open in surprise, and Zara knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. Her reaction was one of pure, genuine amazement, and she didn't have to fabricate any compliments at all.
"Wow," was all she could say for some time. "Sally, I didn't know you had it in you."
"Jack thinks I look like a slut."
"Okay, Number One—Jack is a male; he has no mechanism to express what he really thinks. And Number Two—what shoe size are you? Those heels are killer." Sally laughed just a little. "Seriously? Jack said you look slutty?"
"Well, those weren't his exact words; that was just my spin on it," Sally admitted. "But, he said I looked like I was on the hunt for a loaded businessman tonight, which basically equates with being a slut, I suppose."
"We could test that little theory if you want. Jacob Ryan is here tonight. You know, the guy who owns the apartment complex on Cliff Road?"
"Ew, he's like, 70," Sally said.
"Ever heard of the term 'sugar daddy'? Anyway, don't worry about Jack; he's probably in shock and awe right now. I wouldn't listen to what he says. You look seriously hot tonight, and I'll bet Jack had no idea you would. He's probably just upset that he never noticed before."
"He did look a little surprised when he saw me in my underwear," Sally said.
"Wait, what? He saw you in your underwear? Spill."
"I left my door open by mistake. Anyway, he didn't like it. He had a frown on his face the entire time. I think I just want to go home."
"No way. You're going out there, and you're going to land yourself a billionaire businessman, or a celebrity, or even just end up going home with Cody. Now, let's go."
"Cody? But, I always thought he had a thing for you."
"Let's go," Zara said, avoiding the answer to that question and shoving Sally toward the door before she could protest anymore. They reached the door to the showroom, and Zara stopped. "I've just got to make sure the caterers are all set up, but I'll just pop my head out and see how many people have arrived. If there is a crowd starting to form, then you can slip outside and into the party without even being noticed. You'll blend right in, once a few other people are there," Zara said, leaving her alone before she even finished her sentence. When she returned, she said, "All right, Zoe's in there, talking with Gussy and Justin. So, just walk right up to her, and you should be safe. Now, go."