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by Victoria Blackstone
Published by Lot’s Cave
Sister's Awakening, © 2017, by Victoria Blackstone
All Rights Reserved
Cover by Morgaine Wrightman
All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Lot’s Cave Novel
I stared at my reflection, lip caught in my teeth, my head shaking. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I was pushing my luck. No, there was no way in hell I would get past my fiancé without at least a raised brow, and I’d be surprised if he didn’t suggest I change into something a bit less... flirty.
Yes, that’s what he would call my outfit. He’s just this side of conservative, while I’m just that side of risqué. In my teens, my mother wouldn’t have let me out of the house with a hem this short. She’d have said something this revealing would only have been worn by the loosest of girls, the ones my friends and I whispered about, girls like Amy Felton.
Times have changed, though, and as I get older, I’m finding that I’m less interested in what others think, and more interested in how I feel. And showing off my legs makes me feel alive.
The black knit sheath reached mid-thigh, and as long as I didn’t bend over, my charms would stay hidden. There would be no bending over tonight.
I brought my gaze up. The scooped neck showed off a bit of décolletage, and I could just imagine my mother’s response. She’d likely shake her head, maybe even insist I change, but at thirty years old, I don’t need permission. Well... not from her, anyway.
I dropped my gaze to my shoes, a pair of three inch sandals. They’re most certainty not my most comfortable shoes, but then, I wasn’t dressing for comfort.
I blew out a breath, hoping my fiancé didn’t put his foot down, for, I had only a minute or two before my dinner date arrived. There wasn’t the time to change.
I found David where I expected; sitting at the computer. He turned when I entered, and leaned back, his brow going up, his gaze stopping briefly at my chest before moving down. He shook his head. “Seriously?”
I approached him slowly, biting my lip to hide my smile. I leaned down to brush my lips to his, then pulled away enough to meet his gaze, leaving him staring at my breasts. I straightened slowly and reached out to draw my fingers over his cheek. “Dinner’s in the oven. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes. Let it cool for a few minutes, okay?”
He nodded, his gaze drifting down into my cleavage before moving lower. “You don’t think that’s a bit much?”
I smoothed my hand over my belly. “I want to look nice.”
Again, his gaze dropped, his eyes warming my breasts. “You definitely look nice. I just wonder if Connor needs to see you dressed like that.”
I pushed my fingers through his hair, my touch gentle. “He’s seen me in a bikini, David.”
He made a face. I tilted his chin up then pressed my lips to his, enjoying the way his eyelids fluttered closed. In my softest tone, I said, “I’ll change, if it’ll make you happy.”
Before he could answer, the doorbell chimed. I waited, holding his gaze. He blew out a breath. “Have a nice time.”
I grinned then pressed a last kiss to his lips, and at the door, I turned, amused to see his gaze come up from my ass. “Love you.”
“I love you too.”
In the front room, I took a calming breath before pulling the door open, and I offered Connor a warm smile. He returned it then allowed his gaze to slip through my cleavage on its way down. He shook his head, his gaze caressing its way down to my toes. “Beautiful,” he said, his tone low.
I stepped out onto the porch and offered him my lips. He laughed soundlessly as he leaned down to kiss me, then drew the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Ready?”
I nodded and slipped my arm through his. He held my door for me, his gaze on my legs as I slid slowly in, allowing him plenty of time to look.
I turned in my seat, my gaze on his profile as he drove. “You look very nice, by the way.”
He spared me a smile before returning his attention to the road. “Recognize the shirt?”
My gaze dropped. He was wearing the navy dress shirt I’d gotten him for his last birthday. “I do. It sets off your pretty blue eyes.”
He smiled as he turned his hand, palm up. I set my hand atop his then allowed my fingers to slip between his, the intimate touch making my nipples stand up.
We’ve always been close, but this was relatively new territory for us; holding hands, a kiss on the lips... I brought our linked hands up and pressed my lips to the back of his, and as I stared at him, it came to me that, were we actually dating, the next logical step would be an open-mouth kiss. The thought made my heart flutter.
I held his hand until we arrived at the restaurant, until he parked, and I continued to hold onto him, watching, amused, as he shut the engine off with his other hand. His tone playful, he said, “The older cars had bench seats. You wouldn’t have to let go of my hand to get out.”
My brow twitched, a smile pulling my lips. “Maybe you need to think about an older car.”
He laughed softly. He came around to open my door, and again offered me his hand, his gaze caressing my thighs as I slid out. I shook my head. “Naughty boy.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never seen such pretty legs before.”