“What are you after, Ivy?” he rasped on my lips, and then he thrust his way up, burying himself inside me, making me moan.
I could only smile as that question left his lips. “Only you, Dr. Maxwell. Only you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Let me ask you this, my dear therapist. Is it wrong to be infatuated with a woman’s husband? Does it matter that it’s the husband of a woman you despise? No, really, what do you think?
Most people involved in affairs feel some kind of guilt or shame, but I felt none of that while sleeping around with Corey. In my eyes, Lola deserved what was happening behind her back, and hell, me fucking her husband was the least I could do.
Maybe Corey felt some shame, but that was only because being with me was his first affair. He’d soon come to realize that he had nothing to feel sorry about because I was perfect for him.
His wife cheated, so he cheated. He felt good with me and not with her.
Fair was fair.
None of that mattered at this particular moment, though. No, no. It was Passion Gala night! Showtime, baby! I had to show the world just how stunning I could be.
I was currently sitting next to Lola in her presidential suite with bright lights in my face and a makeup artist studying my features, trying to figure out what look would match the dress I had hanging up in the back of Lola’s closet.
My hair was done, courtesy of a woman named Pamela who Lola had hired for us. She’d wrapped my hair in rollers that resulted in big, bouncy curls and then pinned my hair in a half-up, half-down hairdo.
Lola mentioned that Corey had decided he would get ready after our makeup was done, so he was nowhere in sight. Not that I needed him to be. The night before he hadn’t left my room until shortly after midnight, and amusingly enough, I’d taken a shower and gone down to the bar after he left and guess who I saw? Lola! Hanging off the arm of some delicious silver fox. He was handsome and definitely looked like more than a typical fuck boy, as Corey had called him.
I was close to having my makeup finished when Lola looked at me through the mirror in front of us. “So, are you excited about tonight?” she asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“I am. And you were right. This does feel like I’m getting ready for prom. I can’t believe I missed out on this feeling.”
“It’s like a high, right?”
“Yes, a high.”
“Told you.” The witch grinned.
The artist started on my makeup, leaving me no room to continue a conversation with Lola. Good. I needed to focus on myself.
As expected, my makeup was everything and more. The artist did an amazing job and snapped a picture for his portfolio so he could remember this look forever.
Then it was time. I needed to squeeze into my dress. I stepped out of my regular clothes as I stood in one of the corners in Lola’s room, then picked up the designer dress by the hanger, sliding off the spaghetti straps.
I dressed carefully, making sure not to stretch the dress too much at the bosom or tear anything. Everything had to be perfect. I needed to be perfect. “Lola, can you zip me?” I asked as she stepped around the corner in SPANX.
“Of course.” She stepped behind me and lightly tugged on the zipper, bringing it up to the center of my back. Then she stepped around me and beamed. “You’re a doll, Ivy. So beautiful.”
I could only smile at her. I picked up the scarf Bobbi had made to go with the dress and ran it through my fingers. It would cover my shoulders and block some of the cold from the A/C as we entered the Green Garden Hall.
In no time, Lola was dressed, and then there was a knock at the door. Corey was back. He needed to get dressed too. “I’ll leave you two alone and find Noah,” I said as I made my way to the door.
Lola slid a foot into a silver heel. “Okay. We should be down in a few moments.”
I glanced at Corey. He gave me a faint smile as he began unbuttoning his shirt. I bet he was still thinking about the night before. Our own dirty little secret.
I left, and I felt good, Marriott. I was glowing. At first I’d hardly even recognized myself in the mirror when my makeup was completed. It was the most I’d ever worn, but now I understood why so many women wore lots of it. It makes you feel good—sexy even. Your lashes are longer, your lips look fuller, and your flaws are concealed.
I sent Noah a text and he responded quickly, telling me he was already in the lobby, and that the limo was waiting.