Fiftysix - Seven Rue Page 0,19

phone in front of me in selfie-mode, positioned myself in a way the wall behind me was empty, and snapped a few pictures with my other hand covering my tits or pulling down my bra strap just a little.

“You’re wild,” Kennedy muttered with a soft laugh.

“You should try it sometime. It’s empowering,” I told her.

“Empowering? In what way?”

I shrugged, sitting down next to her and getting under the covers before looking through the pictures I just took.

“I’m in control with what happens with this picture. My face isn’t showing, and this bra isn’t from a certain brand. You have the same one, if I’m not mistaken. I wasn’t asked for such pictures by Riggs, but I know when he sees them, he will definitely keep his eyes on them for a little while before he starts to wonder who this mysterious girl is. And that, my friend, is what excites me.”

It sounded stupid and not logical at all to her, but these little games I liked to play made me feel good.

It was fun, and to be fully honest, I wanted him to find out I sent him those pics to see how he’d act tomorrow night.

“So you’re sending the pictures?” she asked.

“Yep. Right now,” I replied with a smile, pressing send to get the pictures I was sure he’d like onto his phone.

“I hope he won’t get angry. The way he looked last night frightened me. He was so…tall and scary. I’ve never seen a fifty-six-year-old like him.”

Me neither, which was why Riggs was on my radar.

It took Riggs almost fourteen hours to see the pictures I sent him, and as expected, he didn’t send anything back, nor did he block my number.

Guess he wouldn’t mind me sending him a few more?

I grinned like a fool as I sat in front of the mirror in my bedroom the next day, curling my hair while Kennedy packed her clothes into her backpack.

“Sure you can’t stay any longer?” I asked.

“Dad called me fifteen times already, and Mom has messaged me since eight this morning. If I’m not home in twenty minutes, I most likely won’t be allowed to have a sleepover in the next twenty years.”

I shook my head at her and sighed. “You’re eighteen. When will they give you some privacy and space?”

I didn’t dislike her parents, but I was glad they weren’t mine.

Kennedy rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Probably the second I’m married. They wanna set me up with some guy. A friend’s son who’s just as rich and spoiled.”

“They are too damn controlling,” I mumbled, letting another long, beautiful curl fall over my chest.

“And now you should see why I could never become a cam girl. I’ll see you Monday. I wanna hear all about tonight with Riggs,” she said.

I smiled at her and nodded, then I turned back to look at myself in the mirror.

“See you Monday.”

After Kennedy left, I finished curling my hair and put the curling iron away to then get dressed.

Having Riggs over for dinner was a great opportunity to put on something nice.

Maybe another dress, or a short skirt with a tight shirt.

I walked into my closet to look through my clothes, finding a skirt I used to wear a lot when I was sixteen.

It almost looked like my school uniform’s skirt, but it was much shorter, barely covering my ass.

I grew a little over the past two years, but it still fit me and it was the perfect item to wear tonight.

I picked out a tight, white shirt with long sleeves to go with the skirt, and after quickly putting my outfit on, I tried to decide whether or not long socks would be needed.

It was warm enough in this house and I had shaved in the shower this morning, so maybe showing off some skin wasn’t too bad.

I saw the way Riggs watched me last night, and it seemed like he quite enjoyed looking at my legs.

“This will do,” I whispered, looking at myself in the mirror and choosing a pair of my whitest sneakers to finish up the look.

I didn’t have to wear shoes inside, but sandals or Birkenstocks didn’t really fit tonight.

“Val? Would you please come downstairs and help me with dinner?” I heard Della call out from the bottom of the stairs, and I quickly walked out of the bedroom to get to her.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen where she was already cutting up some veggies.

“Mexican. And Italian. A little bit of