Connected (Twists of Fate #1) by Jolyn Palliata Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t bother disputing it only strengthened her theory.
    After a few minutes of digging through her closet, Addison came up with two black dresses.
    She wanted something simplistic to fit her style, but elegant. Something not too revealing, but feminine; something that would make a man drool but leave enough to the imagination to have him wondering what was hidden underneath.
    What are you doing?
    “I’m trying to decide which dress to wear.” She chewed on her fingernail as her eyes shifted from one dress to the other.
    Wear the one on the right.
    Her eyebrows shot up. “You can see them?”
    Hell, no. But your inability to make a fucking decision is raking at my nerves.
    “So you just picked one at random?”
    It’s a decision, isn’t it? It’s not like you’re any closer to one.
    She lifted a shoulder in semi-agreement as she eyed the wraparound number on the right.

    Worked for her.
    She shoved the reject dress back into the closet before she went to dry her hair and throw on some make-up.
    Rhys was surprisingly quiet throughout, and then she realized he had closed off their link.
    Why? She had no idea, but at this point it hardly concerned her. She was just thankful for the quiet.
    After fluffing her blonde locks and putting on her face, Addison shrugged out of her robe.
    She took her time as she picked out some frilly panties and bra—because you just never know—
    and then wiggled into the dress.
    “Oh, boy,” she mumbled, studying herself in the mirror. The dress didn’t leave as much to the imagination as she had hoped. She couldn’t go out like this, could she?
    A sly smile crept to her face. Well, maybe…
    What’s up, sweetheart?
    Aaand the cocky attitude was back.
    “Just checking things out. This dress is a bit…revealing. I’m not used to it.” He chuckled. What? heteased . Can you actually see your knees?
    She pulled at the fabric wrapped tight around her chest as her ample breasts kept trying to pop out and say ‘hello,’ and then she tugged fruitlessly at the hem.
    “It shows a lot more than that,” she muttered, rethinking if she could leave the house that way or not. After all, it was only a third date, and on top of that, she never truly intended to ever wear that dress; it was a impulse purchase on a day she had felt a helluva lot braver than she did just then.
    Jesus, it can’t be that bad. Hell, if any damn flesh is showing, you’d consider it to be too revealing.
    “I would not.” Though she probably would.
    Don’t get all offended and shit. You showed me your picture, remember? Very proper, very conservative, very non-revealing. I know your type.
    “My type. Is that so?” She propped her hands on her hips, her contempt pushing her to prove the stereotyping asshat wrong. “Would you like to see for yourself? Then you can enlighten me with your vast knowledge as to how this dress is too conservative, and fits my type perfectly.” Snorting a laugh, he encouraged her further. I would love to see your oh-too-sexy dress, sweetheart. Lay it on me. I’ll try to contain myself.
    Striking a ridiculously sassy pose that had her giggling, she projected her image from the mirror.
    He made a choking sound, and she felt his entire being seize up.
    Frustrated, she shut down the image. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” For crissakes, woman, you’re fucking hot in real life! What the hell happened to the prim-and-fucking-proper-working-class girl?!
    Suddenly feeling very confident, she tipped her head to the side and studied her image again, being sure Rhys saw it as well.
    “I let my hair down, which I’m known to do when I go out. I put in my contacts, which I also do from time-to-time. And I put this on,” she ran her hands down her dress, caressing every curve. “Which, I might add, you picked out. I think you made the right choice, don’t you?” She turned in the mirror, glancing over her shoulder to show the ‘v’ of bare skin slashing down the