Exposed: Laid Bare (Laid Bare #1)(12)

“Nothing, nothing.” I swished my hand in the air dismissively, and then I made what I hoped would be a good decision. “I think I’ll tag along with you to the party. If that’s okay, that is.”

“Are you kidding?” I could hear the smile in Veronica’s voice. “Of course it’s okay. It’s better than okay, in fact.” She paused, and, clearly pleased with my change of heart, added, “I’m happy you’re coming with, Dahl.”



The next night found me rummaging through my closet. Sadly, I couldn’t find a single thing to wear. I was going for sexy, but I was at a loss beyond the lingerie I’d picked out.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed in a black demi-bra, black panties, and black garters and stockings, I put my head in my hands, and lamented, “Ugh, I have nothing hot to wear to that damn party.”

But then I recalled a dress I had bought in the fall. It was for another party, an art gallery opening I’d been invited to in September. I’d fallen ill and had not been able to attend. That dress would be perfect!

Jumping up, I returned to the closet and pushed the clothes and hangers aside as I dug to the back. “There it is,” I said, sighing when I spotted black sequins sparkling in the dim closet lighting.

The dress was ideal for a New Year’s Eve party, particularly one being held in such a high-end, trendy nightclub.

Pulling the hot little number off the hanger, I slipped it over my head and stood in front of a mirror. Hmm… The hemline was short, very short, and there was a plunging neckline where the sequined fabric draped down almost to my waist.

There’s no way I can wear a bra with this dress, I determined.

After taking off the dress, I discarded the demi-bra I had put on earlier. Staring at my reflection in just panties, a garter belt, and stockings, I decided to lose the underwear, as well. Without the matching bra, the black panties just looked kind of off.

I felt like a slut, wearing nothing but a garter and stockings under such a revealing dress, but I kind of liked the feeling. I wished Lucien were here, as I wouldn’t have minded being his slut for the night.

My breasts felt full and heavy, swelling at the mere thought of Lucien. My pink nipples pebbled and I brushed my fingers over them in response. The black garter belt accentuated my hips and contrasted with my creamy skin, particularly at the juncture between my thighs.

Quickly, I made myself think of something else. I was wasting no more time getting myself off every time I thought of Lucien. After hanging up on me, he didn’t deserve that kind of attention.

For the second time, I slipped the dress back over my head. The tops of the stockings and clasps to the garter belt were left slightly exposed by the short length, but it all looked just right. With the plunging front showing off all of my ample cleavage, I felt ultra-sexy.

“Take that, Lucien,” I said as I slipped on five-inch pumps and spun around once in front of the mirror.

At that exact moment, I knew what my New Year’s resolution needed to be—no more thinking about Lucien Chambers. Not in any way, shape, or form.





Music pulsed all around in the club. It was dark, the industrial interior dimly lit. Every so often, strobe lights flashed rapidly, making everyone on the dance floor appear as if they were moving in slow motion.

“It’s weird in here,” I yelled to Veronica over the loud house music.

The name of the club, Solstice, was a reference to the winter solstice, and the club was thusly decorated as a winter wonderland. Everything was covered in faux ice and snow. I found it all quite realistic. So realistic, in fact, that I began to shiver in my skimpy dress, the sequins shimmering in the low lights.

Veronica leveled me with an are-you-serious expression.

“What?” I asked.

“You,” she said, pointing to me, “have no room to talk.”

“What are you talking about?” I inquired. I truly had no idea what she meant.

But it all became clear when she replied, “Dahlia, you can’t call a place weird when you yourself can’t stay away from weird.” She gestured to a crowd of men in suits, up on the second-floor level of the club.

My eyes followed her hand, and I uttered a quiet, “Oh,” when I spotted one man in particular. That was who Veronica was referring to as weird.

The man emerged from the crowd of men, who were laughing, drinking, and talking. Casually, he leaned on the edge of the railing and peered down at me.

“Lucien,” I whispered. “What is he doing here?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Please, Dahlia. You can’t fool me. I know you must’ve invited him.” Her gaze softened. “If you did, though, it’s okay.”

I swore to Veronica, “I didn’t invite him, V.”

“Well, he wasn’t on the guest list.”

When I glanced back up at the second floor, Lucien stepped out of sight. Sighing, I said, “Not being on the guest list wouldn’t have mattered.”

Veronica made a face, before taking a sip of her mixed drink. When she lowered her glass, she said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Whatever the circumstances, I couldn’t believe Lucien was here at the club. I just knew he was here because of me. But really, the nerve of that man! After his rebuff and dismissal when I dared to call his precious private line, you would think he’d be playing it cool and backing up his dismissive words by ignoring me. That would drive his point home, right?