Billie.
The dress is tight. So tight that it feels like a second skin, hugging every curve, amplifying everything—my hips, my waist, my ass. The glossy red latex shines under the bedroom lights, making my skin glow like I've been dipped in molten fire. My breasts look obscene, barely contained, the neckline plunging just enough to tease, the low back exposing the smooth arch of my spine.
I exhale, snapping a picture and sending it to Riana.
Not even a minute passes before she video calls me. I answer, and when I see her on my screen, my jaw drops.
Her gothic makeup is gone. Her colored contacts are missing. Her natural olive-green eyes are on full display, and damn, she looks stunning. It's not that Riana isn't beautiful when she's draped in her usual dark aesthetic—because she is—but seeing her like this is shocking in the best way. Even I'm not ready, and neither will Dane be.
