Wear My Dress Meet My Gun Novels & Stories

he shrugs walking to the other side of my closet to get my dress, unzips the holster where it is, and puts on a very disappointed expression. “What” “Are you going to wear this?” she asks, pointing to the beautiful pink dress with crystals embroidered on the bodice. “Yes. Why? What's wrong with it?” he lets out a sigh and begins to rummage through my closet until he finds what he is looking for. “Aha! Here it is. If I were going to see an Italian businessman and I had your legs, I would use this deadly weapon,” he says pointing to the black dress she is holding in her hands.

At least he was resting, which he highly needed. I strode to the dressing room to find something cozy to wear. Most of my pants were tight except for the few dark baggy trousers. For a reason, I did not want to wear black. I couldn't let the situation look gloomy. Wearing black meant I was mourning, and I hadn't brought myself to let Matteo go. I settled with blue shorts and a white top. I needed something to coat me up so I went for a gray trench coat. I put on my white Prada boots and then set my hair in a comfortable loose bun. I also shoved a gun on the back of my shorts, making sure it was held tight on the hem

, I said. The 4 small daggers and my gun under this dresss cab handle this as well. Whatever wanna happen should happen, let's see where this goes.

There was no way that I could present myself in front of Alpha Gunner like this, if I was to win his heart. After taking a very quick shower, I found myself in the walk-in closet trying to find the perfect attire to present myself to Alpha Gunner for the first time cleaned up. An array of sundresses lined the one rack, and I slowly grazed the tips of my fingers over them, as I looked at all the beautiful patterns, wondering who he had put in charge to pick them, or if he had picked them all out himself.

I said, Rose removed her clothes and began to change right in front of me. I wondered if this was how she was usually or if she had already felt too comfortable with me to the point she would undress in front of me. After she was done dressing in a black t-shirt and black jeans, she grabbed her purse where she put her gun in. “Do we have to go with a gun?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable. What if she was planning to use it on me where we were going? I didn't even want to think about that.

Figure out what’s happened to Demetrius. I lay the gun on the table, twisting my hair and putting the letter opener through it to hold it in place. This backless, black number that doesn’t leave much to the imagination also has no pockets or anywhere else to hold my weapons. None of my training has prepared me to fight in a fancy gown, not unless I want my whole vagina on show. I grab the gun again, pointing it downward. It’s heavy in my hand, but with it at my side I feel more secure.

I grin excitedly wanting to get out and help them even if it is just sitting quietly waiting. “Okay, fine. Any signs of trouble Troy and a team bring you back.” I nod in agreement not arguing. Rushing through I get myself ready, choosing to wear a strappy dress. The dress is tight, except at the top, it drapes down to show off my cleavage, it is a dress that D had picked out for me. Putting on heels, and my jewellery I walk out.

"You're the one who said you have the same dress as me?!" The whole studio went off: "Same dress? Her? Please—she probably can't afford a hanger in here." "I clocked her the second she walked in. Looks like a thrift store threw up on her." "If she really had the same dress, where is it? She's just here to stir drama." I was done. Pulled out the wedding invite and tossed it at Jella. "Hey. Nice to finally meet you. I'm Zeke's fiancée—your future sister-in-law."

He adjusted his cummerbund, hiding the weapon perfectly. "Remember the rules," he said, catching my eye in the mirror. "Dante Moretti is paranoid. He won't talk business with a stranger. We have to make him come to us." "And how do we do that?" I asked, stepping out of the dressing room. I was wearing emerald green. The dress was silk, floor-length, with a slit that went dangerously high up my thigh and a neckline that plunged deep. It was a dress designed to distract. A dress designed to stop hearts.

“And a very large room full of heavily armed people who are terrified of your husband. You’ve handled worse.” A weak laugh escaped her lips. “I know. It’s just… the permanence of it.” She turned to face me fully, taking in my appearance. “You look beautiful, by the way. I’m glad you agreed to wear the dress.” I smoothed a hand down the skirt of the midnight-blue silk gown I was wearing. It was backless, floor-length, and tailored perfectly to conceal the custom thigh holster strapped to my right leg. “It’s part of the camouflage,” I replied dryly. “Harder to spot the head of security if she looks like a plus-one. Are you ready?”