Tess couldn’t believe this was happening. She couldn’t believe her husband had been so fucking stupid. Losing five thousand dollars in poker was bad enough, but then borrowing another five and losing that too? It wasn’t just idiotic—it was pathetic.

She stormed through the luxurious, modern lobby of Holliday Enterprises, ignoring the receptionist’s attempt to stop her. Heavy glass doors loomed ahead, reflecting her own scowling face back at her. Without slowing down, she pushed them open.

Dane Holliday looked up from his desk with an amused grin. At thirty-five years old, he was heir to the Holliday fortune. A spoiled playboy just waiting for his father to hand over the reins to the empire. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time. His father still held the official title, but retirement was near, and soon, Dane would inherit the billion-dollar company, whether he deserved it or not.

Dane leaned back in his chair. “Tessy. What a lovely surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure? Looking for your husband?”

She slammed an envelope onto his desk. “It’s Tess. And you know exactly why I’m here.”

Dane opened it, thumbing through the stack of bills inside. “This is only twelve hundred.”

“Take it or leave it.”

His grin widened. “Sorry, sweetheart, but your husband owes me five grand.”

She clenched her fist. He’s enjoying this.

“This is ridiculous. You knew exactly what you were doing when you invited him to that stupid poker game. You set him up.”

Dan shrugged. “Not my fault your husband doesn’t know when to walk away.”

Tess took a deep breath. This wasn’t going anywhere. Not with someone like Dane.

“Fine. I’ll get your money. I was just hoping that maybe you weren’t as much of an asshole as everyone says, but I guess they were right.”

She turned to leave.

“Wait.”

His voice was calm. Almost amused.

She hesitated. “What?”

“I’m not heartless. I understand that’s a lot of money for someone like you. I’m not trying to ruin your life. How about we make a deal?”

Tess narrowed her eyes. “…What?”

“The corporate charity gala is tomorrow, and my date cancelled last minute. I need a beautiful woman at my side. Stand by me, laugh at my jokes, smile for the cameras.”

She eyed him with suspicion. “That’s it? I just have to go with you, and you’ll wipe the debt clean? Seems a little hard to believe.”

Dane’s eyes swept over her body, shamelessly admiring her curves. “Being seen with you is worth every penny.”

She tried to hide her disgust. “And you promise no funny business?”

“I swear.”

She didn’t like this. It felt like a trap…but what choice did she have? Dane was a man who delighted in control and if she didn’t agree, he’d bleed her husband for every penny.

She reached out and shook his hand.

“Deal.”

When Tess got home, her husband John was sitting on the couch watching TV like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t just gambled away their entire savings and left her to clean up the mess.

“We need to talk.”

John sighed. “I know, I messed up, alright? You don’t need to rub it in. I feel bad enough as it is.”

Tess scoffed. “Oh, you feel bad? I spent the afternoon begging your boss’s son to cut you a break while you sat here doing fuck-all.”

John’s eyes widened. “…Why would you do that? I…I told you I’d figure it out…”

“When? Are you gonna pull five grand out of your ass before Monday?”

Silence.

Tess took a deep breath. “So…I made a deal.”

John’s head snapped up. “What?”

“I’m going with Dane to the charity gala tomorrow night.”

John shot off the couch. “The hell you are!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going. I forbid it.”

Tess laughed bitterly. “Oh, you forbid it? Will you also forbid us from going bankrupt because of your stupid decisions?”

John’s face turned red. “…You know what people are gonna think if they see you with him…”

“Oh, now you care what people think? Where was that concern when you were losing all of our fucking money?”

“I’ll—I’ll talk to him. Work out some kind of payment plan. He can take it out of my paycheck.”

Tess shook her head. “It’s not about the money, John. He wants to humiliate you. He wants to see me—” She stopped herself, looking away.

“Exactly. You know what he wants. You know what kind of guy he is.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

John grabbed her hands. “Then don’t do this, babe. Please…”

She pulled away. “I really don’t want to,” she said softly. “But thanks to you, I don’t have a choice.”

“We’ll find another way. I promise.”

Tess loved her husband. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t. But promises weren’t going to pay off their debt to Dane Holliday.

She sighed.

“It’s already done.”

***

The next morning, Tess discovered a large bouquet of red roses on the front porch.

They looked…expensive. Perfectly arranged. Each individual rose was flawless, not a single blemish. She didn’t need to check the card to know who they were from, but she did anyway.

For my very lovely date.

- Dane

John appeared behind her. “Jesus. He’s already sending you gifts?”

“They’re just flowers.”

“Right. That’s how it starts.”

Tess rolled her eyes and grabbed the bouquet. She didn’t want the neighbors to see. She set them down on the kitchen counter and spotted a small white envelope tucked inside.

She opened it.

Arrive at noon.

All expenses paid.

Make sure you look stunning for me tonight.

At the bottom was an address.

Tess knew the place. An ultra-exclusive salon downtown. It was the kind of place where celebrities went, where a haircut cost more than their rent.

She tossed the note onto the counter. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

John scoffed. “You thought he was going to be the perfect gentlemen? He wants you dolled up like one of his sidepieces.”

Tess rubbed her temples. All this stress was giving her a migraine.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“You didn’t say no, either.”

She snapped. “You want me to say no? Fine. Let’s call him right now and tell him the deals off. I’m sure he’d love to hear that you’re ready to pay him back.”

That shut him up.

Tess grabbed her coat. She needed to get out of the house.

“…Where are you going?” John asked.

“To the salon.”

The moment Tess stepped inside, she was greeted like a VIP.

“Welcome, Miss Hawkins,” the receptionist said. “We’ve been expecting you.”

The woman smiled and gestured toward a black leather chair. “Mr. Holliday has taken care of everything. We’ll be making sure you look perfect for tonight.”

Tess wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A stuck-up attitude? Some kind of indication that they knew she didn’t belong in a place like this. Instead they treated her like she’d been coming here for years. Like it was completely normal for her to be in a luxury salon, sipping fine wine while a high-end stylist examined her hair.

The stylist was beaming with excitement. “We’ll add a little volume, some curls…men just love that style.”

Tess hesitated. This wasn’t part of the deal. She was just supposed to show up, play her part, and then leave.

“You’d look absolutely incredible with just a touch of blonde highlights. It’d really bring out your features.”

Tess almost laughed. Of course Dane would want her to have blonde highlights. She knew exactly what this was—just another one of his games. Making her look more like the kind of women he surrounded himself with. The kind of woman her husband could never afford.

The kind of woman her husband could never have.

This wasn’t just about making her look good. It was about making John look pathetic. When Dane paraded her around that gala, everyone would see her the way he wanted them to…as his latest conquest.

This was a trap. Every step of it, carefully planned. She should say no. She should remind him that this was just a business transaction, not some makeover fantasy.

Instead, an unexpected thought popped into her mind.

What if I say yes?

Not because Dane wanted her to, but because John didn’t.

He’d be furious. He already hated that she was doing this. Hated that Dane was dressing her up like his prize. Hated that the moment she walked into that gala, every man in the room would be staring at his wife on Dane’s arm.

Every time he saw her over the next month, with her blonde highlights and fake nails, he’d be reminded of his fuck-up. Maybe then he’d actually learn his lesson.

Tess looked up at the stylist and forced a smile. “Sure, let’s do it.”

The stylist grinned. “You’re gonna love it.”

She ignored the pit of dread in her stomach and leaned back in her chair.

The next few hours went by in a haze. The nail tech painted her nails a deep, glossy red. It was a color she never would’ve picked for herself. Then the makeup artist took over, skillfully blending and contouring her face. When it was all done, Tess hardly recognized herself. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she was surprised to realize…she kinda liked it.

She liked the blonde highlights and the voluminous curls. She liked the glossy red nails and the perfectly styled makeup. She looked like she had on her wedding day.

Except…even better.

For the first time in a long time, she felt… stunning.

Tess arrived at Dane’s penthouse feeling on edge.

An amused smile filled his face when he answered the door. He stepped closer, tilting her chin up with his finger.

“Look at you. Incredible.”

Tess slapped his finger away. She folded her arms, standing her ground.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

He stepped aside, letting her in. “Relax, sweetheart. We have all night.”

The penthouse was incredible.

Floor to ceiling windows with a view of the skyline that belonged on a postcard. The furniture looked more like pieces of art than something to sit on. The whole place was modern, luxurious, and designed to impress.

Just like him.

Dane walked over to the closet and pulled out a large garment bag. He tossed it onto the couch like it was nothing.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously.

“Your dress.”

Tess frowned. “I already brought one.”

Dane looked amused. “I’m sure it’s…fine. But if you’re going to be seen with me, you’ll need wear the very best.”

She slowly unzipped the bag and her stomach sank.

The dress inside was tiny. Dark red, silky, and ridiculously tight. Thin spaghetti straps barely held up the plunging neckline, with a high slit running all the way up to the hip. A dress like this was meant to be worn by some stick-thin model, not a real woman with curves.

She had hips. An ass. Breasts that wouldn’t just sit neatly in place. In a dress like this, every inch of her would be on full display.

“I can’t wear this…”

Dane leaned against the closet, arms crossed. “Just try it on.”

“I don’t need to. I already know it’s way too—”

“Your choice,” he interrupted. “But if you’re not going to honor our deal, I’ll expect a five thousand dollar check on my desk first thing Monday morning.”

Tess clenched her fists. Smug bastard. She wanted to throw the damn thing in his face. Storm out, go home, and tell John to figure this shit out himself. She should leave. She wanted to leave.

But Dane just smiled like he knew she wouldn’t.

“Tell you what, just try it on. If it doesn’t fit, you can wear whatever you brought.”

Tess stared down at the dress.

It was beautiful. Way too small, but gorgeous. Probably cost more than her car. When would she ever get the chance to try something like this on ever again?

She hesitated.

“Fine…I’ll try it on. Only to prove it won’t fit.”

Dane’s smile deepened. “Of course.”

She sighed. This was such a mistake.

“…Where’s the bathroom?”

Tess stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

The bathroom was massive. White marble, golden lighting, and a full-length mirror with black edges.

This was ridiculous. She’d already let Dane pay for her hair and makeup like she was one of his girls, but this? This was too much. She was here to clear her husband’s debt, not play dress-up for Dane Holliday’s amusement. She’d wait a few minutes, walk back out, and tell him it didn’t fit.

Then she saw it: a small glass bottle of perfume. It was the same one from the salon. The liquid inside was a deep amber color. She stared at it. Her mind felt fuzzy as she tried to recall the scent.

Hadn’t it smelled…good?

She picked up the bottle and pressed the nozzle, spraying a fine mist into the air.

The scent hit her instantly. Warm, sensual, intoxicating. Vanilla and spice, mixed with something dark and luxurious. Her shoulders relaxed. Her breath slowed. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

That was…nice.

A strange, light-headed feeling washed over her. She felt…good. Too good. Warm, content. Relaxed. She blinked.

What was I doing?

She was supposed to…do…something.

Supposed to…

Right. The dress.

She was supposed to…

…put on the dress.

Yes, that was it. She was supposed to put on the dress. Her sweater hit the floor. Her jeans followed.

Here she was, nearly naked in Dane’s bathroom. The whole situation was so absurd, she couldn’t help but laugh.

She unzipped the bag, carefully pulling the dress out. It really was beautiful. For some reason, putting it on felt a lot easier now. Slowly, she stepped into the dress. To her surprise, it slid over her body like it belonged there. Like it was made for her.

Tess turned toward the mirror and froze.

The dark red dress clung to her like a second skin, molding to her curves, hugging her hips, accentuating her ass, making her legs look impossibly long. The neckline plunged dangerously low, lifting her breasts to the edge of decency. The large slit up her thigh gaped open like an invitation.

She hated this.

She looked exactly like the women who filled these events, the ones draped over the arms of wealthy men, whose only purpose was to be sexy arm candy.

She looked expensive, yet somehow cheap. Classy, but still a little trashy.

She looked like the type of woman who barely had a thought in her pretty little head other than how to please her wealthy date. The type of woman who spent more time picking out lingerie than reading a book.

Like one of his girls.

Blonde. Vapid. Slutty. The kind of girl who had no shame about sucking off her date in the limo. The kind of girl who knew exactly how to wrap herself around a man and make him forget everything but her body.

She bit her lip, her breath quickening. This wasn’t her.

Something was wrong.

She wasn’t some dumb, big-titted bimbo, parading around in designer dresses, giggling at men’s jokes, and whispering yes, sir...thank you, sir.

Not some brain-dead trophy with glossy red nails and big, perky tits, wiggling her fat ass in men’s laps, licking her lips and moaning on cue, like a well-trained little slut.

Her stomach twisted with disgust. She wanted to rip the dress off and throw it on the floor. Then she took a deep breath, and the perfume hit her even harder.

Rich, warm, and decadent. Sinking into her senses. Making her feel dizzy and confused. Her thoughts blurred.

…What was I saying?

Then she noticed the shoes.

A pair of tall, black, strappy stilettos, placed neatly beside the counter. She always hated heels. They were so impractical, and they hurt her feet. She always rolled her eyes anytime she saw some young girl wearing shoes like these.

They were ridiculously tall. The kind of heels that made women strut instead of walk. The kind that forced their backs to arch, their hips to sway, their chests to lift. They were the kind of heels worn by shallow, slutty women who only cared about looking hot.

Her first instinct was to leave them. The shoes she brought were fine. She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t going to play Dane’s stupid games. But then she took a deep breath, and her gaze drifted back to the mirror. Something felt off.

Her bare feet looked wrong against the cold marble floor. The dress was beautiful, but it felt incomplete. The full effect wasn’t there.

It needed…something.

She knew she shouldn’t. But she found herself reaching for them anyway. She just needed to see what they’d look like. Just to prove to herself how ridiculous they were.

Tess bent down, running her fingers along the delicate straps. She shouldn’t be doing this. She should leave.

But then she slipped them on, one foot and then the other. She felt unstable, like she was on stilts. The moment she stood up, she nearly fell over.

She hated them.

She hated the way her posture instantly changed. The way her calves flexed as she tried not to wobble. The way her legs looked so much longer. She hated how it made her hips look wider. It even made her tits look bigger.

And fuck. Her ass looked huge.

Thick, round, grabbable.

She hated the way the dress seemed to fit even better now, as if it’d been waiting for her to slip into the heels. Waiting to drape itself over a body like hers.

She hated how she looked…like she belonged in this dress.

Hated how she looked like…such a dumb slut.

Tess began breathing even faster. Heat grew between her thighs. This wasn’t her…

It wasn’t…

She reached for the marble counter, gripping it hard, trying to steady herself.

Her thoughts raced. She wasn’t going to let Dane dress her up like one of his usual sluts. The kind of woman he imagined when he picked out this outfit. Would he stroke himself to the thought of her?

Tess gasped. Where the fuck did that come from?

The thought had struck her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her stunned. Her pussy tingled with arousal. A rush of shame burned through her, so strong it stole her breath.

Her lips were plump and glossy.

Perfect for sucking.

Her thighs pressed together. Her nails dug into her palms.

What the hell is wrong with me…

She wasn’t turned on. She wasn’t…

So fucking horny.

She was pissed off. Angry at Dane, angry at this whole situation, angry at the perfume still swirling through her senses, making her head feel light, making her feel…so fucking horny…

Angry at the way he looked at her, like he was undressing her in his mind. The way his smirk sent a shiver down her spine.

The way she could already imagine him sitting back in his chair, undoing his belt, stroking his big, hard cock while thinking of her in this dress, in these heels, made up just for him. His newest, dumbest bimbo—

No. No, no, NO!

Oh god….

Her body betrayed her. The heat spread, tightening between her thighs. Her breath came in ragged. Her skin was buzzing with sensitivity. She’d never been so turned on before.

Something was wrong. She needed to get out of here.

She needed take this stupid, slutty dress off. Take everything off right now and go tell Dane she’s going home.

She pictured herself taking off the dress to go yell at Dane, not realizing she was completely naked. She giggled at the thought.

That would be so…silly

So…hot.

So fucking horny.

No, not hot! Not horny! She needed to stop. Needed to get out of here now. Something strange was happening.

She needed to leave…right away.

Instead she reached for the perfume. She didn’t even think about it, she just picked up the bottle and sprayed, again and again.

Everything…slowed.

The warm, sensual scent hit her instantly. It wasn’t just a smell, it was a sensation. A flood of pure pleasure spreading through her body. Her shoulders loosened. Her mind relaxed.

It smelled…incredible. She sprayed it again. Then twice more. Her eyelids fluttered. Her whole body was tingling.

She turned slightly, watching the way the slit in the dress parted along her thigh. Her skin felt warm…too warm. This dress felt too good against her body.

She shouldn’t…

She pressed the nozzle again.

The edges of her vision started to blur. A strange, floating sensation washed over her. She took a slow, deep breath, and suddenly…

The heels didn’t look so ridiculous. The dress didn’t feel wrong. The makeup, the hair, the nails; it all came together in a seductive way. She didn’t just look beautiful.

She looked…fuckable.

The words she’d been thinking—cheap, trashy, slutty—they didn’t sound so bad anymore.

She turned, inspecting the way the material framed her body from every angle. Her big, full tits, barely held in place by the tiny straps. Her fat, juicy ass, straining against the red silk. Her wide, fuckable hips.

She looked…

So fucking hot.

Her fingers slid down to her needy pussy. Her mind felt so slow.

So hot.

So slutty.

So…stupid.

So fucking horny.

No…wrong. This was all…wrong. She looked wrong?

Didn’t she?

She ran her hand down the dress, smoothing the fabric against her hips. Her glossy, red nails perfectly matched the dress. Her beautiful, blonde-highlighted hair perfectly framed her face.

Her head felt dizzy. Her thoughts felt strange. She looked like…someone meant to be admired. Someone meant to be seen.

Someone to be fucked.

She looked…elegant.

Sexy. Hot. Fuckable.

The dress looked absolutely stunning.

Like it was meant to be worn.

Like she was meant to wear it.

No, no, no. She shook her head.

I can’t do this. I’m not going to do this. I’m leaving right now.

But she didn’t notice her hand picking up the perfume bottle until it was too late. It sprayed directly into her face. A thick, overwhelming cloud. Too strong. It flooded her lungs. Flooded her mind. Her entire body.

Her breathing slowed. Her fingers relaxed.

Her thoughts…

Her thoughts…

Her thoughts melted. Her panic vanished. Her shame disappeared.

What was I thinking?

Something about…

Something…

Tess ran her hands down her dress. The perfume smelled so good. The dress felt so perfect. She couldn’t remember why she’d been so upset. She couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking at all.

But that was okay, she didn’t need to.

All she knew was it was time to go show Dane.

Tess stepped into the living room, heels clicking against the floor. Her entire focus was on walking, making sure she didn’t fall over with each cautious step.

Dane was waiting with a drink in his hand. When he looked up, his eyes changed. He didn’t smile right away. Didn’t make some smug comment like she expected.

He just…looked at her. For a long moment. His eyes slowly swept over her, then he smiled.

“Now that,” he said, stepping closer, “is a woman who belongs on my arm.”

He reached out and adjusted the strap, his fingers grazing against her bare shoulders. And—

Oh…

The warmth. The same warmth from the perfume. It slid through her, down her arms, spreading throughout. Her knees nearly buckled.

Tess jerked her body away from him. “Don’t…touch me.”

He let his hand drop. “Relax, sweetheart. Just fixing your dress.”

“No funny business,” she said firmly.

Dane smiled. “No funny business.”

The limousine’s interior was dark and shiny, reflecting the city lights off its tinted windows.

Tess tightly gripped her handbag, nails pressing into the leather, trying to ignore the way the dress felt on her skin. The perfume still lingered in her nose, swirling through her senses. She glanced at the window and for a moment, she didn’t recognize herself.

The woman in the reflection looked so…elegant. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. Her eyes drifted down to the very low neckline. It was lower than anything she’d ever worn.

She looked…beautiful. Like someone who belonged in a car like this.

Like someone meant to be on Dane’s arm.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

Dane’s deep voice startled her, jolting her back to reality. It had an amused tone, like somehow he knew exactly what was she was thinking.

“I’m fine,” she snapped back.

“You sure? You seem a bit out of it.”

She crossed her arm and glared at him. “I was just looking at all this makeup your stylist put on me. It’s way too much.”

Dane smirked. “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think you look perfect.”

Tess rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the warm tingle she felt from his compliment.

She hated it.

She hated him.

She refused to look at her reflection again.

A few minutes later, the limousine pulled to a stop in front of the grand hall where the event was being held. Tess stared out the tinted window. Her stomach tightened with anxiety. There were photographers.

Of course there were.

Bright camera flashes lit up the entrance, reflecting off the polished marble steps. A crowd of elegantly dressed guests filled the plaza.

She felt a weight. Warm and firm. A rush of pleasure shot through her. Then she realized where it was coming from—Dane’s hand resting on her thigh.

“Don’t,” she said, forcefully pushing his hand away. She had no interest in any of his little games tonight. “Keep your hands off me.”

He smirked. “Relax, sweetheart.”

The limo door opened. Dane stepped out at first. The flashing intensified the moment he emerged. Then he turned back, offering his hand.

Tess hesitated, looking over at the cameras. She reminded herself why she was doing this. She needed to at least put on an appearance for him. She placed her hand in his. His grip was firm and steady. He helped her out of the limo, guiding her onto the sidewalk in her towering heels.

The flashing intensified.

She raised a hand to shield her eyes. All these bright lights were making it hard to see.

Everyone was looking at her. Heat flooded her body. She forced herself to stand tall, shoulders back. She just needed to get through the night. It would all be over soon enough.

Dane placed his hand on the small of her back. “Time to move.”

Tess immediately tensed. She stepped forward, shaking him off. “What did I say about touching?”

“Relax. I was just trying to get your attention. Let’s head inside.”

The great ballroom was overwhelming. Elegant chandeliers hung overhead, casting a golden glow across the large room. Smooth jazz played, blending with the clinking of expensive glasses and the hum of conversation.

Tess felt completely out of place.

This was all so humiliating. She wasn’t the kind of woman who went to galas with flashing cameras and billionaires sipping champagne. And yet…

Dane’s hand rested securely on her lower back, steering her through the crowd.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne. Dane grabbed a glass and handed it to her.

“Cheers,” he said with a smile. “To my lovely date.”

Tess clinked her glass against his and threw back the entire drink. She needed all the courage she could get.

Dane barely reacted, simply grabbing another glass from a passing server and swapping out her empty one.

“Careful, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a long night.”

She hated the tone of his voice. Like she was a little girl who needed to be told what to do.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, downing second glass just to spite him.

A tall woman in an elegant blue gown walked up. She kissed his cheeks to greet him. “Ah, Dane. Lovely to see you again.” She looked over at Tess. “And whose this?”

She opened her mouth to explain, but Dane spoke first.

“This is Tessy. She’s my date tonight.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.”

“It’s just Tess, actually,” she corrected.

The woman lifted an eyebrow and then smiled. “Ah, of course. Nice to meet you.”

And just like that, no further questions. No mention of her husband. No acknowledgement of why she was really here. Just acceptance.

The two of them continued through the room, greeting executives, politicians, donors.

Whenever Dane was ready to move, he’d place his hand on the small of her back. She’d told him three times to knock it off. He just smirked and said something like, “Force of habit.” By the fifth time, she rolled her eyes and gave up.

With every new guest they met, there was always the same unspoken question: Who is this woman on Dane’s arm?

Then his answer: “This is Tessy, my date.” After a while, she didn’t even bother to correct him.

And as they continued, Dane’s introduction followed the exact same pattern, again and again.

This is Tessy, my date.

This is my date, Tessy.

This is Tessy. She’s my date tonight.

And every time she chose not to correct him, the words settled deeper.

She was on his arm.

She was his guest.

She was Dane’s date.