Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  That’s when I see it – the perfect gown. I remove it from the rack and hold it up so I can see it more clearly. When Emmy stops rambling, I know I’ve stumbled upon something monumental. It’s a Badgley Mischka sleeveless floor-length gown in deep sapphire blue with a Bateau neckline. The dress is topped off with metallic shoulders and geometric cutouts. It reminds me of winter. The corseted bodice and deep V-back are both sophisticated and as sexy as hell.

  “Holy crap, Jette, that dress is amazing. How did we miss it?” Reese asks.

  “You and Emmy wouldn’t let me look at the sales rack, that’s how.” I look at the tag and I immediately wish I hadn’t. “This dress is $1,915!” My first reaction is to put the dress back on the rack and move on to the next store. “I think we should keep looking.”

  “Bullshit,” Reese calls me out. “Any evening gown under two thousand is a steal. I thought we’d be buying you a dress closer to three or four. You can’t pass up a bargain like this. Try it on, Jette. I bet it fits you perfectly.”

  Reese has always had expensive taste. She sees nothing wrong with spending two thousand dollars on a dress I will only wear once in my life. I think she senses my apprehension, because she grabs the dress from my hand and leads me to the dressing room herself. “Evan told you not to look at any price tags, remember? Now go and try on this beautiful gown before I call and rat you out to your fiancé.”

  Just as I feared, it fits like a glove. This dress was made for me. Emmy sticks her head in and helps me zip it up. We walk out to the fitting station, and I step up on the pedestal. The gown is several inches too long. “I’m sure they could do your alterations,” Emmy assures me.

  Reese comes walking up with a shoebox in her hands. “I have a better idea.” She opens the box and hands me a beautiful pair of metallic leather sandals with five-inch heels. There is a label emblazoned on the inside sole of the shoe with the name Jimmy Choo, London.

  “Reese – seriously? Jimmy Choos? How much are they?”

  “I’m not telling you. Try them on. If you like them, then you should buy them. It’s not like the dress. You can totally wear these shoes again, maybe even at your wedding.”

  She’s right about that. I could get more than one use out of these shoes. A nice pair of strappy heels works with almost anything, especially wedding gowns. Reese and I wear the same size shoe, so I’m not the least bit surprised how perfectly they fit when I slip them on. The dress is now the ideal length, just barely skimming the floor.

  As I step off the pedestal and walk toward a mirror, a sales associate stops by to check on us. “What a beautiful selection. May I ask where you might be wearing this?” she asks.

  “My fiancé and I are attending the Unicef Snowflake Ball on Friday.” I turn around and look at the gown from all angles. It’s absolutely perfect.

  “Well, this is an exquisite choice, I must say. I just sold a beautiful gown to Kimberly Chandler for the same event. Her husband plays for the Knicks, I think. She went with a simple black-and-white dress that looked lovely on her. But I must say, you will outshine her and nearly every other guest if you show up in this.”

  “Oh Jette, you have to take it!” Emmy insists.

  I forget to ask how much the Jimmy Choos were, so when the sales clerk rings them up at a whopping $850, I almost forget how to breathe. Just the dress and the shoes total nearly three thousand dollars. I hand her my Visa Black Card and pray it doesn’t get declined. I never asked Evan what the limit was, and I hope to God I’m not over it.

  Without any concern, she swipes my card and completes the transaction. I sign the receipt and off we go. It was almost too easy.

  A few more stops for the incidentals and we’re done for the day. I’ve purchased Evan a matching tie at Armani, a pair of jeans at True Religion, and myself a clutch from Michael Kors. Emmy is disappointed that I wouldn’t venture into the Prada store, but frankly I was afraid I would fall in love with something equally expensive as my new Jimmy Choos.

  Having accomplished all our goals today, we reward ourselves with lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. I’m in the mood for some Bang Bang Shrimp.

  As we finish ordering, Emmy is busy texting on her phone. “Sorry, that was Camilla. On the way home, I think we should call her and Shea to meet us at your place, Jette. Camilla is dying to see what you bought.”

  Reese breathes a heavy sigh and her shoulders sag.

  “Reese, if you don’t want Shea there, I won’t invite her.”

  “No, it’s okay. This is my problem, not yours. Invite her. I’ll be fine.” She slinks down in her chair and takes a sip from her pomegranate Martini. “If she’s going to be a part of Derek’s life, we have to make room for her. I’m just afraid there won’t be enough room for me too.”

  Very sternly, I tell her, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Reese Simone Barrett, there will be no pity party for you. Pull up your big girl panties and get over it. You let him go. You can’t regret it now. Accept it and move on.” Reese is one of the strongest people I know. She’s not used to being the one with the broken heart. She’ll get through this.

  Chapter Twelve

  Painting the Town Red

  “Hoops or teardrops?” I ask Auggie. This has been our tradition since the Junior Prom. I try on different outfits, he critiques them and helps me accessorize. He has impeccable taste and he’s never been wrong.

  “Put on one of each – let me see.” I do as I’m told and closely inspect myself in the mirror, one profile at a time. Shea hooked me up with an amazing stylist she uses for her events who did my hair this morning. It’s swept off my face and neck into a messy updo with lots of curly tendrils spilling down.

  I show the earrings off one at a time, and Auggie says nothing. “Okay, on three, ready? One. Two. Three.” On three, we give our choices in unison. As usual, we have the same thought and our separate voices become one. “Teardrop.”

  I replace the hoop earring and check myself one last time in the mirror. Reese has just finished my makeup. My smoky eyes, nude lipgloss, and upswept hair give me a natural and sexy look. Auggie holds out his hand for me, to help me stand. He lifts my hand above my head and encourages me to spin for a final inspection.

  “You scream S. E. X. You look like you either just had it or you’re about to. You glow, darlin’.” Auggie has a way of making raunchy sound appealing.

  “James August Deegan, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell him.

  “Well I, for one, hope you never find out!” he chuckles. “But now that I think about it, something is missing. Stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  Auggie rushes out of the bedroom to places unknown. I walk over to the jewelry box sitting atop my dresser. As I open it to retrieve my engagement ring, I notice a letter addressed to me, sitting there unopened. I don’t remember putting it there or ever having noticed it before. The cleaning lady must have placed it on my dresser yesterday.

  I slip on the ring and examine the envelope more closely. There’s no return address, but it’s postmarked from the Denver post office. I have so many good friends who still live there, a list of possibilities flashes through my mind.

  I slide my finger under the flap, tear it open, and slide out a single piece of plain white paper folded into thirds. I open it up, and staring me in the face is a printed copy of a photograph. The picture is grainy and slightly out of focus, but there’s no mistaking the subject – it’s me. I’m sitting in an armchair, naked and completely exposed. I have never, not even once, posed for pictures or taken sexy photos of myself. It looks like a still frame from a video.

  I try to search the photo, looking for clues, but my heart is beating so quickly it’s hard for me to focus. I’m sitting in an old red club chair and there’s a poster of the stoner band 311 and a movie poster from Pineapple Express. I spent over two years staring at those damn posters. It’s David’s room, and that means he must have been videotaping me during sex.

&
nbsp; Fuck.

  “Juliette, my pet, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Auggie teases.

  I get up and lock the door. “Auggie, I’m going to tell you something, but you have to swear not to tell another living person about this. Got it?” My hands are trembling.

  “Okay. You have my word. What is it, Jepetto? You know you can tell me anything and I’ll take it to the grave with me.”

  “I need to give you this. You have to keep it safe. Don’t let anyone see it or even know it exists. Especially not Evan.” I fold the paper and slide it back into the envelope, then hand it to Auggie.

  “What’s inside, honey? Will you let me look? Just once?” He can tell it’s serious. I silently acquiesce.

  He looks at the picture, expressionless. He places it back in the envelope and tucks it away into his pocket. “Okay. I’ve seen it. Now tell me about it. When did you take it and who do you think has it?”

  “Auggie, think about it. Do you, for one second, think I would ever allow anyone to take a picture like that?” I’m near tears. I choke them back and continue. “There’s only one person who could have possibly taken that picture. And only one person who would.” I look up at his big brown eyes, hoping to find comfort and understanding.

  “David?” he asks.

  “David,” I concur.

  “Did he ask for anything or threaten you in any way?” Auggie asks.

  “No,” I whisper. “Not yet.”

  Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and I nearly jump out of my skin. “Jette, are you coming out soon? Evan’s going to knock down the door if you don’t get your ass out here,” Emmy hollers through the door.

  “Coming!” I look at Auggie, panic-stricken. “How do I look? Can you tell I’m upset?”

  “Not a chance. You get out there and try to forget about this crap for one day. We’ll deal with this first thing in the morning.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I’m so grateful to have Auggie in my life. Reaching out, he takes my hand in his and leads me toward the door, where Evan is patiently waiting on the other side.

  Before opening the door, Auggie sternly warns me. “Now you listen to me, and listen good. David is inconsequential. He is a tiny worm that’s gotten itself stuck to the bottom of your shoe. He’s covered in dirt and mud. It’s where he lives. We don’t let slimy creatures like him affect us. Get your skinny little ass and very consequential boobs out there and let that boy see you in those show-stopping Jimmy Choos.”

  He makes me smile. Leaning over, I give Auggie a kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Jepetto. Ready?”

  Leaving the bedroom, we walk the short distance to the living room. When I spot Evan, my feet refuse to take another step. I’m glued tightly to this spot. My heart rate speeds up and all worries are immediately forgotten. His back is to me as he stands at the window overlooking the waves crashing on the beach.

  I take in the sultry vision of his form, my gaze sliding all over him. His freshly cropped hairline skims the collar of his crisp, white dress shirt that peeks out from beneath his black tuxedo jacket. He’s all long, lean legs and broad shoulders. Even from this angle, he looks every bit the sexy celebrity he is.

  I don’t know if he senses my presence or if he can actually feel my craving for him, but he suddenly pivots around and drinks me in as a smile slowly appears across his handsome face.

  “Juliette.” He comes toward me, his stride graceful and strong. He reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. His gaze remains intensely focused on me with a heat usually reserved for our more intimate moments.

  When I feel his sinfully soft lips on my skin, goose bumps spread like wildfire, stirring up memories of that mouth on other parts of my body. “Hi,” I squeak.

  He smiles, and I’m reduced to a bundle of live wires. Jolts of electricity shoot through me. I want more of his touch so badly right now, it’s almost painful. “Hi, yourself. There isn't a word in the dictionary for how good you look. I can’t wait to show you off.”

  “Well you’re both going to have to wait, because first I get to take pictures,” Emmy demands.

  “Emmy, we’re going to be photographed all night long. I’ll send you one, I promise. Now please let us get out of here before we’re late.”

  Not to be dissuaded, Emmy persuades Evan and me to pose for a few quick pictures before he leads me out the door. “Are we ready? Do you have everything?”

  Auggie comes racing up with my clutch. “Don’t forget this, Jepetto. You’ve got everything you could possibly need tucked inside. Oh, and there’s one more thing.” Auggie grabs a beautiful piece of white silk from the table and drapes it over my shoulders. “It’s a silk pashmina. I thought you might need one tonight. It’s my little gift to you. Knock ‘em dead, girl.”

  Evan places his hand on the exposed skin at the small of my back and leads me out the door. My skin tingles from the power of his touch, sending heat pouring through me.

  Waiting in the driveway is a black limousine with tinted windows. When the driver sees us emerge, he immediately jumps out and opens the door for us. I slide across the bench seat and place my pashmina scarf and clutch on a nearby seat.

  Evan slides in next to me, and as the door shuts I’m immediately aware of how good he smells – the rich aroma of testosterone and sandalwood soap that is uniquely Evan. He slowly removes the jacket of his custom-tailored tuxedo and carefully lays it on the bench seat across from us. I watch transfixed as he loosens his tie and opens the first few buttons of his shirt.

  The driver hops back in. He turns around and gives us an itinerary. “Traffic is light today. We should arrive in a little over an hour. Is there anything you need before we leave, sir?”

  “No, we’re fine. Thank you, Charles.” Evan presses a button and the privacy window closes, leaving us completely alone for the next hour.

  As we pull away from the curb, Evan pulls me onto his lap, cuddling me tightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Running Girl? Just say the word and I can cancel. Joey will understand.”

  “No, I want to do this. This is who you are, and it’s time I stopped watching from the sidelines.” I look up into those piercing blue eyes that make me melt.

  I reach up and run my fingers through the silky strands of hair, gently pulling and tugging. It’s something I do every bit as much for me as for him. I love the power I have over him when I do this. He immediately submits to me, closing his eyes and leaning in to my touch. When he releases a soft moan, I gently place a kiss on his perfect lips.

  He reciprocates with a slow and sweet kiss that reflects our precious, complicated, and constant connection. When we finally break apart, a small giggle escapes. Evan raises an eyebrow and looks at me oddly. I confess, “This feels a little ... I don’t know ... naughty, don’t you think?”

  “Why, Juliette, haven’t you ever made love in a limo?” Evan asks as he nibbles on my neck.

  “Remember, Chief, you’re my first hot and sexy millionaire. But it’s probably no different from having sex in the back of a pickup truck, right?”

  “There may be a few differences.” He gives a sexy little growl and returns his attention to my neck, licking, sucking, and nibbling from my shoulder to my ear.

  I hitch my dress up, thankful for the convenient slit that opens high on my leg. I straddle him and deepen the kiss, stroking his tongue with licks that make my core tighten. I wrap my arms around his neck and twist my fingers in his hair. I rock against him, and he presses against me in return. His breath mingles with mine, coming in short pants. I can feel his heart beating against my chest.

  I need this release. I need him, now. I lower my hand to his pants and begin to work on the buttons and zipper, my body aching for more of his touch. I gasp when I feel his hand against the exposed skin at the small of my back. I’m eternally grateful for the plunging V-back of my dress.

  Evan tenses. His hand grips mine, stopping me, and he looks me deep
in the eyes. “What are you doing to me?” he asks.

  I slide my hand up his body, searching for the small openings between his buttons where I can run the tips of my fingers across his flesh. I bite my lip and smile. Breathlessly, I lean in to his ear and tell him, “I’m touching you.” I linger there long enough to nibble on his ear as I gaze out the window. There are cars all around us and a complete stranger driving a minivan just a few feet away, oblivious to what is happening in the back seat right now. It excites me and urges me on.

  I can feel him grin against me and I return my attention to his pants, anxious to release his growing erection. When he is free, I wrap my hand around his throbbing thickness and squeeze gently. I use the little bead that collects on the tip to wet my palm so I can run it up and down him from root to tip, stroking rhythmically and methodically as he trembles from my touch.

  Evan slides one hand beneath the slit of my dress, tracing the outline of my panties until he reaches between my legs. A long finger gently massages my sensitive flesh and I can feel my immediate response to his touch. I push against him as he slides the silk of my panties to the side and explores. I gasp when he finds my entrance. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet and ready for me.”

  “I can’t help it,” I tell him. “Can the driver hear us?” I ask him, “because I don’t think I could stop right now even if I wanted to.” I pump him a little faster and a little harder. He responds by adding a second finger to my already swollen sex and matching me move for move. As I clench against him, he smiles that wicked smile that melts my heart.

  Evan responds by cranking up the music, essentially drowning out our cries of passion. I back off him and grab hold of the waistband of his pants. Holding on to my waist, he raises his hips just enough to allow me to slide his pants down to his ankles. I position myself above him, my knees on either side of his hips, hovering so that I can feel his fullness pressing against me.