Page 92 of The Other Side
I was finding it harder and harder to second-guess myself when Chance overwhelmed my senses and took control. Consequently, I was finding it easier and easier to let go when I was around him.
And it wasn’t just my thoughts that were loosening, but as the days passed, the more I thought about what had happened in thehotel. How he’d touched me and how he’d made me practically combust. I wanted it to happen again. Ineededit to happen again.
Everything he did got me worked up. I felt the liquid desire pooling at my core and had to stop myself from rolling my hips against nothing as the console separated me from Chance, and I wasn’t about to crawl in his lap, parked in a car, behind his parents’ mansion, where anyone could happen upon us.
Finding it hard to ignore the thought that had just occurred to me about being discovered by a wayward partygoer, I reluctantly parted from Chance.
If he was trying to distract me from my anxiety spiral over what was to come, damn it if it didn’t work like a charm.
“Fuck ’em all,” Chance panted, resting his forehead against mine, before placing a soft kiss on the tip of my nose.
I thought I knew what to expect when it came to Amanda because I had seen a few photos of her while stalking Chance, prior to our original confrontation and my discovery of his own stalking. But the young woman absolutely took my breath away.
Her blonde hair was expertly twisted into an updo with elegant curled tendrils framing her face. She was dripping with ruby jewelry, and I didn’t even ask if they were real, too scared for her to confirm they were, let alone mention anything about how much they might have cost.
She was dressed in a striking red silk dress. And while the front appeared to be high-necked and modest, when she turned, she revealed a cowl back that swept dangerously low, skimmingjust the top of her rear. She was tall and wispy, and had the perfect figure to pull off such a stunning look.
Amanda met us at the back door and ushered us inside quickly, past some staff scurrying around. But everyone was so busy with their duties, they didn’t spare us a glance.
“I’ll bring her back to you soon,” Amanda told Chance as she looped her arm through my elbow.
“Wait. What?” My head swung back and forth between Chance and Amanda, both sporting devilish smirks and the same mischievous blue-grey gaze.
“Chance said you needed a dress, silly.” Amanda tugged me toward the back stairs.
“But you’re so much taller than me,” I argued. “Chance?” I called out to him to save me, but he only waved his fingers, smiling as he disappeared around the corner.
“I’ve got the perfect dress, and it will work just fine with your height,” Amanda assured me as she dragged me up the stairs, which opened up into a wide and bright hallway with pristine marble floor tiles, immaculate large sideboards dotting the walls every so often, with massive flower arrangements taking up the entirety of the table tops, and chandeliers glittering above.
I wanted to put up more of a fight, truly I did, but I found myself surprisingly speechless as I stared at the ostentatious opulence surrounding me. I couldn’t believe that my Chance had grown up here.
Whoa. Since when had he becomemyChance?
“I’ll be fine in what I’m wearing,” I mumbled as Amanda pulled me into what I assumed was her bedroom, as I was finally able to see signs of an actual person inhabiting the space.
“Let me just show you what I have, and if you like it, great. If you don’t, then you can go back downstairs,” Amanda offered. “Chance mentioned you were worried, and I have so many gowns. Dad only lets me wear them once for appearance’s sake.Normally I donate most at the end of the season, so you’re not putting me out,” she prattled as she walked into an enormous walk-in closet.
I didn’t follow her. I was instead fixated on my scuffed and worn heels.
“Violet?” Amanda peeked out of the closet. “Come in here. Don’t be scared. I don’t bite.” She smiled sweetly, and it reminded me of Chance a little too much. I thought maybe I should be afraid.
“This is the one I was thinking of.” Amanda pulled a black velvet, off-the-shoulder, A-line gown from her rack, where dozens were hung. “It’s tea-length on me, so it should go to the floor on you, and it has a lace-up corset in the back, so we should be able to make it fit snug. What are you…a C-cup?” She tilted her head, staring at my chest.
“On a good day.” I frowned.
Amanda only giggled. “You’ll have to forgo a bra, but I’m sure Chance won’t mind.”
“What ifImind?” I deadpanned.
Amanda laughed again, shaking her head, as if she had expected my attitude, and was amused that it was exactly as Chance had probably reported to her. “Strip, please,” she commanded.
I swallowed hard, still staring at my shoes nervously.
“Are they uncomfortable?” She followed my gaze, misunderstanding my frustration.
“No, just—they’re not nice enough for the dress,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Nobody will notice, trust me. Besides, I think the dress will be long enough to cover them. I’m afraid we’re different shoe sizes, although Mom might have some gifted shoes stowed away in some bedroom,” Amanda offered.
