He scrolled through endless rows of pictures, a collection of moments captured in time, some of them unguarded and unaware.
“Okay, fine,” I relented, raising my hand in surrender.
With a smug grin, he tucked his phone away. “Say always used to say she was the black sheep. Those kinds of people don’t end up in family photographs.”
We turned to see Dean lurking in the corner, drink in hand, his gaze too keen, watching everything unfold. Roman didn’t even acknowledge him, acting as if he hadn’t just spoken.
“Good morning to you too, brother-in-law,” I said, rolling my eyes at the tension.
“Hope we didn’t disturb you last night?” Dean teased, a smirk playing on his lips that made my skin crawl.
Roman’s annoyance was palpable, his posture rigid.
“Of course not. I can’t forget the solid three minutes. It usually ends before it begins,” I shot back, raising my drink defiantly.
Roman remained unbothered, casually tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music, a picture of calm.
Dean was clearly taken aback by my retort. He crushed his soda can in frustration and stomped off, flicking his wrist to rid himself of the leftover liquid.
Chloe attempted to speak to him, but he brushed past her, ignoring her entirely as he stormed toward the stairs, his anger palpable in the air.
Dean-1, Savannah-1.
Chloe, however, was still glowing with smug satisfaction, sipping from her champagne flute as she leaned in closer to us. “So… about that double date we talked about?”
Roman blinked, confusion written across his face. “What double date?”
“You and Sav. Me and Dean. Tonight. What do you say?”
I raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Where?”
She smirked, tapping her glass with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s a secret, sis. Dress code: hot.”
Before we could voice our objections, she turned away, linking her arm with Dad’s, leaving us both in a state of bewilderment.
I exchanged a glance with Roman, and in that moment, we both understood-tonight would be a game.
And we were already losing.
**Later That Day**
**Roman**
Time stretched like taffy, and Savannah was taking her sweet time.
I was already dressed, the ensemble simple yet striking-a black shirt that clung just right, crisp white slacks, and polished black shoes. Nothing too flashy, but undeniably clean. It was classic, a look that never went out of style. Sitting at the edge of the bed, my legs crossed, I scrolled through my phone, though the words blurred together, my mind elsewhere. I was trying to push away thoughts of Savannah’s dress.
That dress. The way she described it-“a little red,” “a little provocative”-each word teased me, igniting my imagination. It was as if she relished the effect it had on me, especially when she knew I was about to see her.
And I let her tease me. Maybe there was a masochistic streak in me, a strange enjoyment in the anticipation of her destruction.
The bathroom door creaked open, and I instinctively looked up.
Suddenly, the air in the room felt heavy, almost electric, as if the world had paused.
She stepped into view, and it was as if the very fabric of reality had shifted. She was not merely a vision; she was a force of nature. The red latex clung to her body as though it had been meticulously painted on by the devil himself. Her legs-long, bare, and undeniably dangerous-seemed to stretch on forever. Her bob cut framed her face in a way that was sharp, almost lethal. And that neckline? It was daring enough to make even the most devout question their faith.
My phone slipped from my fingers, falling onto the carpet with a soft thud. It bounced once before coming to rest at my feet, but I couldn’t even glance down. I was utterly transfixed, frozen in place.
She stood there in the doorway, blissfully unaware that she was committing acts of war against my senses. The dress hugged every curve, accentuating every dip-every place I had imagined memorizing with my hands and lips. Her legs were a masterpiece, and the bob cut only intensified her allure.
She embodied every sin I had ever tried to suppress. My throat tightened, the fabric of my shirt suddenly feeling constrictive across my chest. A pulse throbbed behind my eyes, and it wasn’t just the overhead light.
“Well?” she asked, her voice teasing yet challenging.
I fought against the torrent of thoughts rushing through my mind. I didn’t voice the first twenty things that came to me. I didn’t tell her how desperately I wanted to push her against the wall, to claim her right then and there. I didn’t mention how that dress felt like it should come with a warning-not because it was too much, but because I was dangerously close to forgetting we had a date to attend.
My throat felt like it was on fire.
Slowly, I stood, my eyes never leaving her. “Jesus Christ, Savannah.”
“Too much?” she asked, her tone playful, yet there was an edge to it.
“Not even close,” I replied, striding toward her, my fingers grazing the latex strap on her shoulder. The light snap against her skin sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed the groan that threatened to escape my lips.
“You look like you’re out to kill,” I murmured, my voice low and filled with awe.
She spun around playfully, a little twirl that showcased every angle of her stunning figure.
“Utter perfection,” I muttered under my breath, almost in disbelief.
She turned again, this time deliberately, giving me a full view that nearly made my heart stop.
“That dress should come with a warning label,” I finally managed to say, my voice strained.
She flashed me a grin, one that was anything but innocent. “Scared someone’s going to stare too long?”
“No,” I replied, my tone serious. “Scared because if Dean sees you in this, I’ll be in jail before dessert.”
Her mouth parted slightly, as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. Her gaze traveled down my body, a slow, deliberate sweep that felt like a physical caress.
Words escaped me, so I leaned down, my lips brushing just behind her ear. “You’ll be the end of me.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.