L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

The driver nodded and then closed the window between the front and back of the limo.
“Hello,” Pierre said, facing me now, grinning and a little ushed. “That went well, I
think.”
“I … yes, it did,” I stammered, while playing with the folds of my dress. It truly was
the prettiest piece of clothing I’d ever worn, let alone seen.
“So. Do you accept the Step?”
I was still wrapping my mind around the fact that the Bayou Billionaire was a
participant in S.E.C.R.E.T. I ashed back to the opening night of Halo, the time I saw
him chatting with Kay Ladoucer in the lobby. I reddened slightly, remembering that
distinguished British man and the things he did with his hands. Was Pierre participating
in a fantasy that night too?
“Cassie, the rules say this is the last time I get to ask: do you accept the Step?”
I waited a beat, then nodded.
His kiss came at me so quickly, it took me several seconds to catch up. When I did, I
had no problem matching his ardor. He pulled me on top of him, kissing my clavicle, my
shoulders, my neck, his arms completely wrapped around me. Then through the limo
window, I caught the briefest glimpse of Tracina holding hands with the D.A. What? No!
“Is that Carruthers Johnstone?” I asked Pierre, breathless.
Pierre turned just as the giant man scooped Tracina up and placed her on the trunk of
a car, kissing her deeply.
“Yes. Bit of a ladies’ man, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, poor Will,” I muttered.
“Cassie.” Pierre cupped my chin, making me stare directly into the greenest, most
mischievous eyes I’d ever seen. “I’m right here. We have to get you out of this dress.
Right now.”
I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about Will right now. Not while I was in the back of a limo
with one of the sexiest men in the city.
“What about the driver?”
“One-way glass. We can see him, but he can’t see us. No one can.”
With that, he reached around me and I felt the delicate zipper of my dress snake down
my back, the bodice peeling away from me, leaving me surrounded by pink crinoline
and sateen, a cupcake melting in his lap. He began to sort through the folds, grabbing a
lush handful of fabric and lifting the whole garment over my head. My tiara caught in
the folds, ripping my chignon loose, so by the time he got the dress fully off and tossed it
to the other side of the limo, I was a ushed mess, wearing only a lacy strapless bra, a
silk thong and my sparkling heels, my hair cascading down around my bare shoulders.
“Unbelievable,” he said, pressing me back into the seat opposite him. “I want to see all
of you. Take the rest off, Cassie.”
I was emboldened by the auction, the dance, the champagne, the privacy of this fastmoving
limo, and his obvious attraction, and so I did. I slowly unfastened my bra and
let it drop to the oor. Then, I hooked one nger under the band of my thong and eased
it down to my ankles, and icked it o with a toss of my foot. Then I pushed back into
the plush seat and opened my legs to him, heels still on. What had become of the shy