Deeper Healing

46| Green-Eyed Monster

Leilani Edwards

Deja Vu.

The phenomenon of feeling as though one has lived through the present situation before, an illusion of memory whereby—despite a strong sense of recollection—the time, place, and context of the previous experience are uncertain or impossible.

Except, something of this sort had happened before. The lingering stares, direct murmurs and occasional polite smiles felt replicated, only a little bit more intense than my fuzzy memory recalled.

I tilted my head to my right, looking at the man loosely locking arms with me.

He'd been there too on that day as my date, and I remembered him being just as flawless as he looked right now; handsome, cool and acting natural and unbothered despite the attention our arrival garnered.

Certainly, I didn't expect him to feel as jittery as I did, although I shielded every feeling of vulnerability with a poised, natural smile. He was a famous person with a celebrity level of attention. He had cameras in his face and was on giant billboards and magazines half of the time.

He was used to the attention and public scrutiny, unlike someone like me who had lived the life of an average human.

My smile grew softer the more I looked at him, noticing how calm he appeared despite despising the idea of showing up to celebrate his bratty brother.

The celebration was big, without a doubt, with scores of elite people in attendance at a renowned club owned by Benjamin Coleman.

We hadn't even walked past the main entrance yet, yet we'd already seen many people outside.

"Your taste is quite charming, and all of these people shamelessly staring at us agree. The dress is an attention grabber," I spoke to Nikolai softly, looking up at him for his reaction.

His taste was indeed impeccable, and the dress he'd bought me and put on me after giving me an effortlessly mind-blowing orgasm looked breathtaking on me. 

I felt confident and gorgeous in it, every little detail complementing my figure and accentuating my womanhood by thunder but still leaving decent room for the imagination of what lay underneath this satin, corseted dress.

He chuckled softly, moving his eyes in my direction so he could look at me. "The dress is a minor accessory to the instant attention-grabber pulling it off flawlessly. You're bewitching, and heaven knows how many of those perverted freaks staring at you have already undressed you in their shitty heads and pictured your nudity awfully wrong."

There was a sense of both pride and possessiveness in his voice. They all could imagine, but he didn't need to. He knew what was underneath not only my dress but my underwear as well. He liked it and it was his exclusively. The possession just made me want to give myself to him entirely more.

"You're the only man whose stare I feel comfortable with. The rest make me feel uneasy and the thought of them mind-fucking me is unbearable," I spoke loud enough for only him to hear as we ascended the stairs leading to the entrance.

His grip on my arm grew comfortably tight. "We can't change their minds or the male nature, but one thing I can do is stay by your side to avoid any unwanted mishaps with those few bastards who can't control their urges. Just picture everyone naked and feel the nervousness melt away."

I chuckled softly, keeping my eyes on him. "Should I picture you naked as well?"

I had never seen him entirely naked before. I'd seen and felt his torso, yes, but he always kept himself covered below his abdomen. His self-control was unbelievable and I wasn't sure how long he could hold onto it before I'd hop onto him and give him the ride of his life.