I apply my nude-colored lipstick and gloss. My eyes are sparling blue today, and I put on my diamond earrings. And then look at my outfit in the full-length mirror. It’s a light jacket and skirt. The skirt hugs my every curve and stops just after my knees. But it’s the jacket that makes the outfit. It goes low in the front and then crosses over tight around the waist and then flares out. “Baby,” he says the nickname he sometimes calls me, and I haven’t told him to stop yet. I keep reminding myself that I should say something, but it hasn’t come up yet. He knocks at the door. “The car is downstairs.”

“Hold your cock, Markos,” I joke, opening the door and seeing him standing there. I stop breathing, but I smile and try not to let him see. He’s standing there in a light gray suit that molds to his whole body with a white button-down shirt underneath and a dark blue tie around his neck. “I’m ready.”

“You aren’t wearing that?” he says, looking at me up and down, and I put on hand on my hip.

“What’s wrong with this outfit? Is it the color?” I ask him, looking down. “I didn’t pack another one.”

“One, it’s too low in the front.” He points at the jacket that goes down a little, but it’s tight fitting so nothing is coming out. “Two, we know you aren’t wearing a bra, so that’s a no.”

“The bra is built in,” I tell him, picking up his hand so he can feel the little pads.

“Three, I want you to change,” he continues, and then I shake my head.

“Well, this is the only outfit I brought,” I tell him, annoyed now. “So either I go like this or I stay here and get a massage. Ball’s in your court,” I say, walking away from him and going to grab my light pink Hermes purse I brought.

I feel him right behind me, his hands now on my hips pushing me into him. “Your ass looks so fuckable,” he whispers in my ear, and I know he means it because his hands are holding my hips the same way he does when he takes my ass.

“Well, if you behave …” I turn in his arms, his hands finding my hips again. “When we come back, I can grant you access to said ass.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, throwing his head back. “How am I supposed to walk around aroused the whole time?”

I shrug my shoulder. “I have no idea, but if it helps, I’m wet just thinking about it.”

“You’re wearing something, right?” he asks, glaring at me. “Like there is a barrier covering lady town.”