Friday came too fast.

I stood in front of my closet, staring at the dress David had bought me last week. Deep red, fitted, ending mid-thigh. The kind of dress that would make Ethan's mother purse her lips in disapproval.

Perfect.

"You almost ready?" Ethan called from downstairs. "Dad said to be there by seven."

"Two minutes!"

I slipped the dress on, the fabric hugging every curve. No bra—my breasts were small enough that I could get away with it. And definitely no panties, just like David wanted.

My phone buzzed.

David: Can't wait to see you in that dress. Knowing you're bare underneath. Knowing I can bend you over...