Read Online When She Was Bad... by Louise Bagshawe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louise Bagshawe
Ads: Link
suddenly longed to be part of it.
‘Maybe for a bourgeois dinner for two. But we’re going to a late
supper, and then we’re hitting the clubs. I want to show you off. Wear something dramatic, darling, won’t you?’
I sure will, Lita thought after she hung up, utterly excited. She raced
to her shower. Hair first … you couldn’t look great unless your hair was glossy and gleaming. She soaped every inch of her body, rubbing Chanel No. 5 body lotion into her smooth-shaven legs. Frantically she began to go through her extensive wardrobe in her mind. It felt about as important a decision as choosing a veedding dress. Lita slipped into a luxurious white towelling robe from Saks - one she’d had delivered in that glorious thick cardboard box lined with crisp tissue paper - and padded over to her closets. Sexy, but not too sexy. Even though he’d said dramatic, Lita was going to be careful. She knew she could pour
4°
herself into thigh-high white boots, a leather miniskirt that looked like a belt with pretensions and a halter-necked mesh vest with two discreet copper-wrought flowers to cover her nipples, and she’d have Rupert, and every other man she’d meet tonight, drooling at her feet. But after he’d drooled, and gotten her into bed - maybe with presents of diamond rings, the way some of the magazine guys had tried to bribe her - he’d luck her a few times, then dump her. And Lita wanted to be more than that.
She wanted to be 1Kupert’s wife.
Maybe it was crazy to think like that, and on the first date, too, but Lita didn’t care. She believed in Destiny, and Rupert Lancaster had Destiny written all over him. From that first encounter in his office, with her heart in her mouth, to him making her wait so long she thought he’d forgotten about her, to that romantic evening in Costa IKica … Oh, man, what would Mama say … her little Chiquita an English Lady, a Baroness …
Lita went through her wardrobe like a general planning a strategic attack. Something sexy, but not tarty. Hmm… She tried a minidress in silver leather, a backless ruby gown in crushed velvet and a clinging pantsuit in lemon silk, but nothing was quite right. She settled on a fitted silk top in a soft pink, set with tiny silver beads, and a white swing skirt that came to just above the knee but which lifted and moved around her legs when she walked. She spritzed herself with more Chanel, tugged on a pair of teetering high pumps and she was ready to go. Carefully, Lita tugged her robe back on so she wouldn’t stain her outfit, then went to her kitchen and fixed herself an omelette. She had a feeling Rupert would be impreCsed if she didn’t eat too much. Lira saw the models around her getting skinnier every day. The restaurant he’d take her to might be a steakhouse, who knew? But she’d do better if she just ordered a grilled chicken salad. The thought of rabbit food made her starving. She threw peppers and fried-up steak strips and a little cheese in her omelette and devoured it. A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and she was more relaxed.
I’m ready for this, Lita told herself.
Rupert arrived with the largest bunch of red roses she’d ever seen. ‘Five dozen,’ he said, when he saw her trying to count them. Mmm, she was a looker. Check out those tits in that tight pink top. He glanced and checked out the slight puckered shape of the nipple against the silky material. Her little white skirt showed off the curve of her calves; he imagined the firm, satiny thighs. Would her pussy be trimmed, or shaved right off?. She was so young. Completely fuckable. He couldn’t wait, really.
41
Oh, well. Softly softly. She was almost ready to drop into his hands like a ripe plum. She’d be begging for it like every other piece of ass in New York soon enough.
Lira was overwhelmed. ‘Let me just put them in some water.’
He chuckled. ‘I doubt you have that many vases. Here, let me.’ He took the heavy blossoms from her,
‘Maybe for a bourgeois dinner for two. But we’re going to a late
supper, and then we’re hitting the clubs. I want to show you off. Wear something dramatic, darling, won’t you?’
I sure will, Lita thought after she hung up, utterly excited. She raced
to her shower. Hair first … you couldn’t look great unless your hair was glossy and gleaming. She soaped every inch of her body, rubbing Chanel No. 5 body lotion into her smooth-shaven legs. Frantically she began to go through her extensive wardrobe in her mind. It felt about as important a decision as choosing a veedding dress. Lita slipped into a luxurious white towelling robe from Saks - one she’d had delivered in that glorious thick cardboard box lined with crisp tissue paper - and padded over to her closets. Sexy, but not too sexy. Even though he’d said dramatic, Lita was going to be careful. She knew she could pour
4°
herself into thigh-high white boots, a leather miniskirt that looked like a belt with pretensions and a halter-necked mesh vest with two discreet copper-wrought flowers to cover her nipples, and she’d have Rupert, and every other man she’d meet tonight, drooling at her feet. But after he’d drooled, and gotten her into bed - maybe with presents of diamond rings, the way some of the magazine guys had tried to bribe her - he’d luck her a few times, then dump her. And Lita wanted to be more than that.
She wanted to be 1Kupert’s wife.
Maybe it was crazy to think like that, and on the first date, too, but Lita didn’t care. She believed in Destiny, and Rupert Lancaster had Destiny written all over him. From that first encounter in his office, with her heart in her mouth, to him making her wait so long she thought he’d forgotten about her, to that romantic evening in Costa IKica … Oh, man, what would Mama say … her little Chiquita an English Lady, a Baroness …
Lita went through her wardrobe like a general planning a strategic attack. Something sexy, but not tarty. Hmm… She tried a minidress in silver leather, a backless ruby gown in crushed velvet and a clinging pantsuit in lemon silk, but nothing was quite right. She settled on a fitted silk top in a soft pink, set with tiny silver beads, and a white swing skirt that came to just above the knee but which lifted and moved around her legs when she walked. She spritzed herself with more Chanel, tugged on a pair of teetering high pumps and she was ready to go. Carefully, Lita tugged her robe back on so she wouldn’t stain her outfit, then went to her kitchen and fixed herself an omelette. She had a feeling Rupert would be impreCsed if she didn’t eat too much. Lira saw the models around her getting skinnier every day. The restaurant he’d take her to might be a steakhouse, who knew? But she’d do better if she just ordered a grilled chicken salad. The thought of rabbit food made her starving. She threw peppers and fried-up steak strips and a little cheese in her omelette and devoured it. A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and she was more relaxed.
I’m ready for this, Lita told herself.
Rupert arrived with the largest bunch of red roses she’d ever seen. ‘Five dozen,’ he said, when he saw her trying to count them. Mmm, she was a looker. Check out those tits in that tight pink top. He glanced and checked out the slight puckered shape of the nipple against the silky material. Her little white skirt showed off the curve of her calves; he imagined the firm, satiny thighs. Would her pussy be trimmed, or shaved right off?. She was so young. Completely fuckable. He couldn’t wait, really.
41
Oh, well. Softly softly. She was almost ready to drop into his hands like a ripe plum. She’d be begging for it like every other piece of ass in New York soon enough.
Lira was overwhelmed. ‘Let me just put them in some water.’
He chuckled. ‘I doubt you have that many vases. Here, let me.’ He took the heavy blossoms from her,
Similar Books
