Lying Through Her Fangs
SCENE FOURTEEN
Hael’s P.O.V.
No words were said as she disrobed and put on her first selection. I pushed thoughts of her being naked just feet away from me and focused on not getting an obvious erection from my vivid imagination.
“Here’s number one,” she opened the door and took small steps to the gilded mirror behind my chair.
She was in an off white dress of thick lace that flared at her hips and feet but hugged her in every place in between. The expanse above her breasts was see through and her arms were bare. A glint of a thin gold belt encased her tiny looking waist.
“Lovely, but I’m seeing something a bit more grand for you,” stated Fran.
Xylia sternly looked over her figure in the glass but wasn’t impressed.
“I agree with you. It’s a beautiful dress but dancing would be at a minimum.”
“It’s a virgin Morticia dress and hugs you well,” I added.
Xylia laughed, “And that sums it up nicely.”
She swiveled back to the dressing room.
“I’ll need a zipper help on this one,” she said shortly afterwards.
Fran walked past me as she waited on the other side of the door. There was a pool at her feet of a dusty pale pink with blurs of black. Once she came from around the door, I could see they were flowers that trailed up and down from neck to floor. Strategically placed lace gave the illusion that she was barely covered but I knew better.
“An improvement,” was all Fran said.
Xylia turned in the mirror, showing that her back was exposed to below breast level. I could see myself licking up her spine.
“Very Rita Hayworth,” Fran interjected.
“It’s certainly a maybe,” Xylia added before going back to the other selections.
There was a heavy rustling sound and the door opened for Fran to zip her up again.
She drug the train and the lights danced off the steel gray sequins that covered her from padded shoulders to a deep cut front before it dropped to the carpet.
“An inch more and my navel would be visible through the gray mesh.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I replied to Xylia with a grin.
“Too heavy,” Fran countered.
With a sigh, Xylia was back to the room again.
“Two left before we regroup,” Fran responded to the sigh.
Another moment and she could be heard before the door clicked open, “Is this too much like a romantic wedding dress?”
“It’s a combination of that and a negligee,” Fran added with a nod.
The front was soft and draped around her but then she turned and her back was bare to the waistline before the fabric curved over her butt.
“Wow,” was all I could say. Maybe I needed to be a back man instead of a leg man.
“One spilled glass of wine and I’d look like Carrie,” Xylia giggled.
Fran laughed back, waving her hand. “Why would you even joke like that?”
“So goes my life, and my luck has slipped into the darkness with it,” Xylia retorted as she took a minute to get the whole view of the glamorous dress.
“If you’ve run into Hael then your luck can’t be that bad, right?”
Fran winked at me and then met Xylia’s gaze in the mirror. Xylia looked at me then the floor. “One more.”
“The blue. I have a feeling it will be the one.”
Xylia shrugged and I half way hoped it would slip from her shoulders.
I ran that wish out of my mind and focused on my shoes.
“Um, yeah,” was all I heard from Xylia.
“Oh yes, the buttons,” Fran said before moving to the door that was slowly opening. “I believe I was on the mark with this choice.” Fran sounded satisfied.
Then Xylia walked around the wood door and my jaw hit the ground with a thump before I prayed my arousal wasn’t obvious. I clasped my hands in my lap and shifted, not leaving the chair. Then she walked toward the mirror and I could see her legs through the sheer navy blue fabric. I slid my gaze up to her hip before her body was covered in lace again. It was a freaking peep show of lean, curving muscle. Nope, I was a leg man. No doubts there.
Then I was shaken by Fran’s voice. “Yes, it’s the one.” I looked her way and she smiled at the heat in my eyes. Nodding, she went to where Xylia stood and she started talking nonsense about shoes. Good lord, I was going to die from that woman in that dress.
***
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Ginny Lynn
Wench Writer
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