So the one thing that no one would have ever guessed in a million years, the secret that she had never shared with anyone else, was how much she liked to touch herself.

And how good it felt.

On cold nights Lily’s favorite thing was to lock herself in the bathroom with a hot tub of water and her waterproof vibrator. Lying in the warm rose-scented water she invented elaborate scenes in her head, all of which featured Travis in the starring role.

She often relived her first orgasm at fourteen, the night after her first high school football game. She had pretended to be watching the game, but her eyes never left Travis all night, hanging out with the tough crowd. Every time his fingers brushed across the shoulders of the cheerleader he was with, a shiver shot up Lily’s spine. Halfway through the game he had disappeared behind the bleachers, the cheerleader in tow. Quietly, Lily slipped away from the crowd. Standing in the shadows, she had watched Travis fondle and kiss the girl, finally bringing her to orgasm with his mouth. A warm rush had settled between Lily’s legs, and her fingers had found her br**sts, sensitive from the slightest brush of her fingers across them.

Since that night, whenever she masturbated, Lily dreamed that Travis’s tongue slid across her ni**les, drawing circles across her skin. She would slide her fingers between her slick folds, sometimes slipping one finger into her tight canal, all the while picturing Travis’s large fingers touching her, caressing her.

When she couldn’t take it anymore she would pick up her vibrator and turn it on low, barely pressing the tip of it against the top of her mons. Again and again she would bring herself to the edge, pulling the whirling machine away, gasping for air in the cooling water of the bathtub. Finally, she would switch the machine to high and press it hard against herself as waves and waves of spasms rocked her, Travis’s name on her lips.

By the time she had dried off and gotten back into one of her big tent dresses, no one could have ever guessed what she had done to herself in the bathtub. No one could have known how hot she got, how naughty her fantasies were.

Lily could never look beyond her lust for Travis to see herself in love with another man. But even though she wasn’t looking for love, she wasn’t opposed to having a lover. After exploring all of the different and better ways to bring herself to orgasm, she had been overwhelmed with the need to feel a c**k deep within her. Yes, she wanted it to belong to Travis—oh how desperately she wanted that—but ever the realist she recognized that she would have to take what she could get. Over the past decade she had shared a bed with several men, and while the experience of a thick penis pumping into her was nice, while the feel of a tongue lapping at her clit was pleasant, none of the men she had dated and slept with had ever taken her to the thrilling place she dreamed of.

No one would ever know how much she wanted Travis to be her lover, the one man she could never have because he had decided she wasn’t there anymore one day in fifth grade.

But in The Dress, everything had shifted. Lily felt as if she were in the bathtub, her cunt wet and plump and ready for Travis’s c**k to slide into it. Ready for him to show her what it truly meant to be a woman.

Lily moved toward him, holding his gaze, forcing herself to walk slowly, to push back the sensual anticipation that caused her ni**les to grow taut, that caused the heavy and full feeling between her legs.

What if he doesn’t want me?

Lily shelved her persistent doubts. He would want her, she decided, as a wave of arousal edged up her spine. No matter what she had to do, no matter who she had to be, she was going to claim Travis that night.

Travis’s eyes marked her as his, and only his. For once they understood each other as a man and a woman. And then she was standing just inches from him, her full br**sts pressed up against his T-shirt, his heat burning through her.

Twenty years of hurt fell away. The only thing that mattered to Lily was the lust coursing through her veins.

Needing desperately to touch him, Lily’s hand caressed his hard jaw, memorizing the lines of his face, before moving up to run her thumb along his lower lip. His tongue found the sensitive pad of her thumb, and she stilled, unable to do or focus on anything other than the sensation of his tongue on her skin. She was slick and already as close to an orgasm as she had ever been. His hand was on hers, callused and strong and warm, and he was pressing a hot kiss into the pulse at her wrist.

His lips moved away, and her skin felt cool and bereft. His face came down toward her and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.

“Travis,” she whispered, and she felt his surprise.

His lips tightened, and a swift strike of fear passed through her that he would leave her high and dry and desperate for him.

“You know who I am?”

“I’ve always known,” she said boldly. “And now it’s your turn to find out who I am.”

She slid her hand along his taut, well-muscled arm, reveling in the feel of the light dusting of hair against the tips of her fingers. Every inch of her skin was on fire as she wrapped her fingers around his.

Travis read her mind, and before she could lead him to the dance floor, he was moving them toward it.

She loved the way the other women in the room looked at her. She knew the look of jealousy too well.

She knew how it felt to watch someone else press close to Travis. She had been watching girls throw themselves at Travis since first grade.

At last it was her turn. Wouldn’t it be heavenly, she thought, if he threw himself right back at her?

It would be a dream come true.

Lily breathed in the faint scent of his cologne. She could drown in him. The crowds of dancers parted for them. Lily was shocked to realize that Travis wasn’t the only one getting admiring glances.

Straight out of her fantasies, it seemed that all of the men in the room were looking at her with desire radiating from their eyes. In one of her favorite fantasies she was in charge of a group of prisoners, the naughtiest one, of course, being Travis. She would whip them into sexual frenzies, not letting them touch her until they were about to explode with wanting her. The other men could lick her and stroke her, but only Travis could thrust into her with his huge, hard shaft.

In The Dress, maybe all of her dreams would come true. Especially the part where Travis braced his heavy weight over her and slid into her wetness, hot and relentless.

Lily had to resist pinching herself to see if she would wake up as she moved in Travis’s arms, to see if it really was just a dream. No, she thought, if it is a dream, I don’t want to know.