The Randy Romance Novelist(65)
“I know I’m right,” Delaney stated matter-of-factly. “Now, back to Fifty Shades of Grey, you are going to wear those Ben Wa balls tonight, and you’re going to wear them well. I will pack your purse with the balls and some lube while you’re getting dressed. And don’t argue with me about it.”
I sighed and left the conversation at that. She wasn’t going to the party, so she wouldn’t know the difference.
Since my hair was so thick, it took some extra time to finish; by the time my hair was fully set in place by a pound of hairspray, I was already running a little late. I was meeting Henry at the party because he had some things to get done beforehand—shock alert—so I didn’t have him pestering me to hurry up.
“Crap, I’m going to be late.” I looked at the time. “Let me get dressed and then we can walk out together. Can you call down to the doorman to flag a taxi for me in ten?”
“You got it,” Delaney called from behind me, while I ran into the bedroom.
Hanging on the door frame of the bathroom was my dress that Delaney had helped me pick out. Thankfully, she steamed it while I was doing my makeup, so it was ready to go and wrinkle free.
Rummaging through my drawers, I looked for my strapless bra, but couldn’t find it anywhere. I mentally tried to remember the last time I wore it, but nothing was coming to memory. I fished through Henry’s drawers, wondering if it accidently got stuck in with his boxers, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it,” I muttered, looking around.
Trying one more time, I dug through my drawers, but could only find the strapless bra I wore to my high school prom. I should be ashamed for having something so old, but memories get the best of me sometimes. It used to be white and had definitely seen better days, but it was all I had, so I connected the ends together at the front clasp and brought it up to my breasts. I shoved them in and gasped at how tight it was.
“Christ,” I groaned. My boobs rested heavily in the cups and the underwire strained from end to end. “This is really tight.” I eyed the dress and knew I had to wear a bra; there was no option of going commando up top, not for a girl of my breastual size.
Praying to the lords above that the thing wasn’t going to pop off, I snatched my dress off the hanger and put it on, making sure to not make too many jerky movements, in consideration of the bra.
Once everything was in place, I slipped on my black kitten heels, a red necklace to match my lipstick, and then fluffed out my curly hair. Despite the slight pooch I was sporting, I was looking really sexy.
“Eat your heart out, Henry,” I said, while shimmying at the mirror.
Delaney met me at the front door with my purse and a giant smile on her face. “You look so hot, Rosie. Henry won’t know what hit him.”
“Just what I’m hoping for.”
As I was leaving, I went to switch off the lights when I caught a glimpse of Sir Licks-a-Lot, perched on the window sill, sitting in a white fabric-like cup. He started kneading it with his claws and that’s when I realized he had my bra! I wanted so badly to go and grab it from him, but I had no time, and with my luck, he’d probably marked it with kitty smell and I would smell like a litter box the entire night. So, I let him win this round, but made sure to flip him off before I shut the door.
On the elevator ride down, Delaney explained to me how to use the Ben Wa balls, but I ignored her, not interested in partaking in any crazy kind of vagina Olympics tonight.
The taxi ride to the venue was agonizing, not because I just wanted to be there, but because the dress was really tight, my bra felt like it was going to burst open any minute, and any circulation my body was trying to flow through my waist was cut off. I shifted in my seat, so I wasn’t so scrunched up and more horizontal, but it only provided temporary relief. Looked like I would be standing all night.
By the time we pulled up to the building, I was lying flat across the seat, enjoying the ass prints of New Yorkers from all over the city. Quickly, I paid, got out of the cab with some tricky finessing, holding my breath so I didn’t pop anything open, and then jogged to the elevator.
The short trip from the taxi to the elevator seemed like a mile as I held on to the side of the metal rail and enjoyed the twenty-two-floor ride up. Damn kid was sucking in all of my oxygen, leaving nothing for me.
As the elevator approached the designated floor, I straightened up and fiddled with my hair, using the reflection of the metal to gauge my look.
It wasn’t helpful at all.
The elevator doors opened to a room full of executives and party goers, dressed in black suits and colorful dresses. They all had drinks in their hands and were animatedly talking to each other. The room was decorated simply with white and black flowers. Waiters in black button-up dress shirts and black ties milled about the room, offering drinks and hors d’oeuvres. My mouth watered as a tray full of shrimp passed by me. I would be getting my fingers on one of those bad boys in a bit.
In the sea of black, it was hard to locate Henry. It wasn’t until I scooted farther into the room that I found him talking to his boss, Eric, and of course . . . Tasha. From a distance, I observed them together. She was incredibly gorgeous in a red turtleneck dress that clung to every part of her thin body. Her arms were perfectly toned, and surprisingly, her boobs were covered, except for the keyhole in her dress that just so happened to fall over the line of her cleavage.