Dane's Date: Part Two
by kiwibat
Tess was exhausted. It was only an hour into the event, and she already wanted to go home.
Her feet were throbbing in these ridiculous high heels. She was tired of wearing this stupid dress. It was ridiculous short and tight. Every single movement required careful calculation. One wrong move and her tits and ass would be on display for everyone.
She was tired of being treated like a trophy, tired of the endless parade of guests with their polite smiles and judgmental looks.
This was so humiliating. Tess sank into an empty chair.
Fuck these shoes.
She reached down, yanking off her heels. She winced as the cool floor soothed her swollen feet.
That's better.
No more heels. No more dressing up for Dane. Why should she give a shit what he thinks. She leaned back in her chair, trying to ignore everything around her. The room felt too warm, too loud, too bright. The warm glow of the chandeliers gave it a hazy, dreamlike feeling.
All around her, people
were staring. The women's expressions ranged from amused to judgmental, while the men...well...she knew exactly what the men were thinking.
She's with Dane Holliday.
She's on his arm, dressed like this, looking like that.
She's not here with her husband.
Dane's dates are all the same.
She needed a break, some time to breath, but it'd barely been a minute before she once again heard his deep, annoying voice.
"Tired?"
Tess sighed. "Can't I just be alone for one damn minute?"
"You can rest later. There's someone I have to meet, and I need you by my side."
She sighed. "This is so humiliating. Everyone thinks I'm some shallow gold digger."
Dane just smiled. "Are you?"
Tess shot him a look with daggers in her eyes.
He chuckled. "Relax. No one thinks you're a gold digger. If you were, you'd have charged more than five grand."
She blinked as a strange wave of confusion passed through her.
Her mind felt strangely blank. Something about Dane's presence made it harder to think. The warm scent of her perfume still clung to her skin.
She
could
have asked for more, couldn't she? She should've. She should have played hardball, gotten ten, maybe even
twenty
thousand. That's what a smart woman would have done.
So why hadn't she? Why had she agreed so easily?
A respectable woman would've never agreed to this at all. Wouldn't have walked into this ballroom on the arm of a man like Dane. She wouldn't have let him dress her up, show her off, all to humiliate her husband.
Why'd I ever go along with this? What's wrong with me? This isn't like me...
"Relax," Dane said, gently lowering his hand onto her thigh.
The first couple times he'd done it, she'd pushed him off. The third time, she'd snapped at him. The fourth, fifth, and six, she politely asked him to stop.
But this time she didn't react.
Not because she wanted it, or because she liked it, but the moment he touched her, a strange warmth spread through her body. A calming reassurance, like a weight had just been lifted.
It felt...safe.
For the first time that night, all the endless worries and constant stress just...went away.
She knew she should push him off. Tell him to keep his hands off her, but the moment she thought about it, a calm washed over her, like stepping into a warm bath.
Dane's thumb traced tiny circles on her thigh. A harmless touch, nothing inappropriate. Nothing she needed to fight.
Right?
Tess took a deep breath, staring at the bubbles in her champagne glass. She wasn't
letting
him touch her. She just...wasn't going to stop him...just this once.
Dane's voice cut through the haze. "Come on. Time to go."
With a sigh, she reached for her bag, ready to toss the heels inside, then she hesitated. Something felt...off, like something was missing. Her toes curled against the floor. The dress, the hair, the makeup. It all felt... incomplete without the heels.
Dane's dates always wore high heels.
No. That wasn't
her
. She wasn't going to put them back on just to look good for
him
.
She wasn't going to...
But before she could stop herself, she'd already slipped them back on. The moment she stood, her posture changed. Back straight, shoulders back, chest forward. A strange satisfaction washed over her. She looked
right
.
She barely had time to process it before she felt his warm hand on the small of her back. Before she could think, she was already moving. She'd wanted to rest a little longer, but his touch felt so...natural. Like it was supposed to happen. Like she was supposed to follow.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she let him guide her forward.
Tess tightly gripped her champagne glass, burning with frustration.
It wasn't just the endless introductions, the judgmental looks, or Dane parading her around like his trophy. It was the condescending way people spoke to her.
People kept treating her like one of Dane's bimbos, like they didn't expect her to understand anything beyond expensive shoes and spa days. All because of the way he'd dressed her up. The hair. The makeup. The tight, skimpy dress. The ridiculous heels. All to humiliate her. To humiliate John.
He'd done a damn good job making her look the part.
People really believed it.
They looked at her and saw a shallow, dumb blonde. A woman who giggled at jokes she didn't understand and stared blankly when the conversation got too complicated. But that wasn't her. She wasn't some vapid airhead. She wasn't one of Dane's brainless bimbos.
She just needed to prove that.