her.” After everything Fiona’s been telling me about grownup Damien, I was convinced the man was in love with her. I was convinced that he’s always been in love with her.
“That makes no sense at all. Like, none at all, Vee,” she retorted.
“All I’m saying is, don’t be so quick to dismiss the possibility that he has feelings for you. He doesn’t need to resort to extortion or driving an hour back and forth from anywhere to get balls deep in some pussy. He’s extorting you and he was driving an hour back and forth for your pussy even before he knew the sex was going to be red-hot.” One thing was certain, Damien Greystone grew up to be hot as fuck.
“The people around us didn’t all of a sudden lose their hearing, you know.” she pointed out.
I snorted. “The people around us have heard worse, I’m sure.”
Not sure which one, since my eyes were closed, but one of the spa employees piped up with a ‘we have’.
“It’s only been a week, Vee. Can we hold off trapping him into marriage until maybe month three?” she suggested.
“Ugh, fine. But I want to go on the record that I think you’re wasting valuable time with that plan. You could be knocking out beautiful little Greystones with black hair and green eyes already.” God, the woman was stubborn, but she laughed.
“Well, be that as it may, three months really won’t make a huge difference in the scheme of things. And, besides, why can’t our babies have brown hair and brown eyes?”
I tsk’ed at her moronic question before answering, “Because the world needs more hot black-haired, green-eyed gods. Quit being stingy, Fee.” Fiona and Damien would make beautiful babies, I was sure of it.
After we were done being all polished up like brand-new pennies, we made it back to the hotel around six. Damien had agreed to let Fiona get ready with me at the hotel as long as it was understood that she’d be going home with him at the end of the night, as if that had ever been in question.
The spa perks hadn’t ended at the salon. They had sent over stylists to fix our hair and makeup, so all we really had left to do was put on our dresses. I donned a black baby doll strapless dress that showed off my toned legs. I wore a silver raindrop pendant with matching earrings that complimented my silver strapped heels. I had pinned my auburn hair up high on top of my head and let random curls cascade over my neck. I had to admit I didn’t look too shabby.
As for Fiona, she had chosen a jade green dress that hugged her body to perfection. It flowed down to the tips of her pedicured green toes. The dress was held up by two poor excuses for straps and plunged low enough to show the public that Fiona was all woman. It tapered in at her waist and flared out around her hips and then loosely fell the rest of the length. She looked so stunning that she didn’t even need jewelry.
“Christ on a Pogo-stick, Fee. You are going to become a YouTube viral video star tonight when Damien can’t take it anymore and finally mounts you at this party in front of God and everyone.”
She raised my brows at me. “I doubt it. Everyone will be too busy looking at you in that dress to even notice what Damien’s doing to me.”
“Ahh, so you admit there’s a chance of said mounting happening, huh?” I teased.
She laughed. “Will you be serious for once?”
I shook her head. “Never,” I announced as I went to stand next to her in front of the mirror that adorned the vanity room. Taking in our appearance, I added, “Fuck that, Fee. We both look gorgeous. Fuck those uptight, gold-digging, rich bitches. We’re going to walk in there proud of who we are, and ghetto or not, I will throat punch a bitch with a quickness if any of them come at us sideways.”
“YouTube here we come,” she laughed as a knock sounded at the door.
I followed Fiona and stood behind her as she answered the door to a very stunning and breathtaking Damien Greystone. He was dressed in a customary tux, but it looked amazing on him. Fiona was about to shut the door when a very grownup and hot as hell blonde-haired, brown-eyed William Creston followed in behind Damien.