Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Ian

I watched from my seat as Summer walked up to the podium in the Charlotte Art Museum, fidgeting with her dress. What a dress it was, too. Long, deep burgundy, and a slip-satin that hugged her hips and waist. The neckline swept low, peeking at the swell of her breasts. The tone complimented her skin, especially when she blushed, and it was really damn difficult watching her move in that thing when all I could think about was getting it off her.

She placed a hand to her hair, which was in some complicated twist concoction, and tapped the microphone. "Can I have your attention, please?"

Yeah, she had my attention, all right. A new fantasy ran amuck through my dirty mind. One in which I took out those pins in her hair, one by one, until the strands fell over her shoulders so my hands could roam through them. Then I'd fist that dress and shove the material up past her hips and-