Mister English by S. R. Watson & Ryan Stacks

Mister English by S. R. Watson & Ryan Stacks

Author:S. R. Watson & Ryan Stacks [Watson, S. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Watson & Stacks, LLC
Published: 2019-06-09T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Ten

Finleigh

House music pulsates beneath my feet, the tempo a close comparison to my erratic heartbeat. Seizure-inducing colored lights flash throughout the VIP area as the host shows Blaine, Lydia, and me to our private seating. Avery and Hunter are on their way. We left ahead of them to have dinner even though I wouldn’t exactly say this dress was dinner appropriate. And the many stares I got from the restaurant’s patrons were a good indication I was right. I tug at the spandex fabric that only extends a few inches below my ass as I’ve been doing all evening. With every step, it inches its way to obscenity. The keyhole design that stretches across most of my chest exposes my D cup twins more than I’m comfortable with. Simply put, this dress is the opposite of me. It’s one of the dresses Lydia bought in Rome, but she loaned it to me. I was grateful not to have to spend money on something I’d likely only wear one time.

When I found out that Alyssa and Elenor were joining us tonight, it gave me even more reason to put forth an effort. I’ve yet to meet Alyssa, but I didn’t want to pale in comparison to them any more than I’m sure I would. As I look around the club, my dress is modest compared to some of the other clothing choices. Still, I feel naked and out of character.

“Stop fidgeting. You look great,” Lydia assures me. “Oh, there’s Hunter and Avery.”

“And I see that they’ve met up with Alyssa and Elenor. We’re all here now. Let’s pop this Dom Pérignon,” Blaine announces jovially.

I square my shoulders and attempt to portray confidence. Hunter’s eyes lock with mine as he walks stealthily toward me.

“Nice dress,” he comments as he lets his eyes roam my body. “Not your style but still sexy as hell.”

“Lydia suggested this one. My style consists of more fabric,” I joke awkwardly.

He takes two flutes of the champagne that Blaine has poured and passes one to me. “This should help significantly. If you’re going to wear a dress like that, love, it’s imperative that you own it.”

“I’ll work on it, Mister English.”

“My … don’t we clean up nice,” Elenor says, joining us. Her little dig at me doesn’t go unnoticed by Hunter.

“Very fuckable, indeed.” Hunter smirks.

“You’re so crass,” Elenor accuses.

“Very shaggable? Nah, fuckable sounds better.”

“How about neither?” I offer. “Excuse me.”

It was kind of hot, maybe even slightly flattering, when he talked dirty to me. I felt desired. This was the opposite of that—as if he was trying to make her jealous because she chose Avery. I walk to the back of our private seating area where Blaine is now sitting with a blonde.

“Finleigh, I’d like you to meet Alyssa. She’s one of the models from today,” Blaine introduces.

“Oh, yes. From the closed shoot, right?” I immediately want to put my foot in my mouth. That was her personal choice.

“Yes. I can be shy at times. I’ll be better tomorrow.



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