Invisible by Sariah Skye

Invisible by Sariah Skye

Author:Sariah Skye [Skye, Sariah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-02T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 18

Summer and I sat in the living room, chatting with the guys for a little while, before we left them to their own devices as we got ready for the club. We elbowed each other a handful of times; Summer still insisted Mathias’ eyes were hazel. I clearly saw a deep brown. Clearly, I was going to have to make her Google hazel eyes later, so she could see the difference. Mathias must have heard us as we gossiped on the sofa, because he kept averting his gaze.

Summer left early, saying she was going to meet up with her work friends for drinks first, no matter how I insisted she come with us. But not before completely decking me out in full-on club makeup and dress.

I felt completely insecure seeing myself in the mirror. Summer really went overboard this time; my hair was completely curled, and arranged in an elaborate updo with curls arranged in various places around my crown. My makeup was bright and immaculate; straight out of an Instagram photo. I reminded myself of one of those self-indulgent poses that the makeup tutorial girls—or boys—did at the camera when fully made up, lightly touching their faces, and looking upward and to the side to show off the full effects of the look. Complete with duck lips, of course. It even made me uncomfortable as I looked at my extreme black and purple smoky cat eye, expert contouring, and deep plum lipstick.

She selected a black dress that cinched at the waist and came only mid-thigh. It was backless, with a high neckline that tied at the neck, and swooped down just inches over my butt. I didn’t have an appropriate bra to go with it, and Summer’s didn’t fit me, so she insisted on taping up my nipples with something called pasties. Despite how it sounded, they weren’t a tasty breakfast pastry, but a flower-shaped sticker that went over your nips. I had no idea there was such a thing, and I’ve been a female for my entire life. I also owned no thongs, much to her chagrin, but she knew this about me. Underwear should not go up the butt crack. So, I had to opt for a pair of seamless undies and “pray” that my panty lines couldn’t be seen (and really, I didn’t care). The shoes were extreme; black patent strappy platforms that wound and tied halfway up my calf with silver and black ties. I wrinkled my nose when she selected them for me from her eu de whore collection as I called it. These were the shoes she wore when out clubbing, extra saucy for maximum sex appeal. I guessed the girls she dated really cared about shoes? I was unconvinced…I think she just had a foot fetish. Gross.

“Ava!” One of the guys called from the living room, before hearing a knock on the door. “Are you decent?” I recognized the voice to be Trystan’s.

“Basically,” I called back, and the door opened slowly, with a slight creak I kept forgetting to fix.



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