Don't Poke the Luna (Xena and Ryder) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Xenas’s POV

“Let’s go in this one!” Ama squealed, tugging on my arm as we made our way into Stitch & Story. We each selected three dresses to try on. Ama’s picks matched exactly what she’d described earlier, while I chose three completely different styles.

The first was an emerald green slip dress with thin straps and a plunging neckline. It hugged my waist before falling straight down with a slit that ran dangerously high up my thigh. I stepped out of the changing room and stood in front of the mirror, examining myself with a critical eye.

“Looks good,” Samuel commented casually.

I sighed internally. His voice as flat as if he were commenting on a roadside flower. I could feel him deliberately keeping his distance, even as his eyes wandered over me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“This one would work for dancing, but it doesn’t really do anything for my figure,” I said softly, hoping to ease some of the tension between us.

Ama emerged wearing a strapless mermaid dress, her blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I don’t like you in that one,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Good, because I’m not feeling it either,” I replied, relieved to have an excuse.

“That’s not working either,” I said honestly about her dress. That style needed fuller hips to pull it off, which Ama clearly didn’t have.

“Yeah, it’s not right for me,” Ama agreed.

We retreated back to our changing rooms. My second dress was all black with strategic cutouts. The straps were thicker, crossing under my chest to push my breasts up and make them more prominent. The design crossed in the back before returning to the front, with cutouts placed beneath my chest, along my sides, and across most of my back. The dress clung to every curve, the crossing in the back positioned just above the dimples of my lower back, while the cinched fabric perfectly accentuated my hips. The slit was so high I could barely wear underwear with it.

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7:20 pm

Chapter 22

I walked out and stood before the mirror, waiting for Ama. Looking at my body tightly wrapped in black fabric, a complex feeling washed over me. I felt beautiful and sexy, like I’d transformed into someone else. The feeling excited me but also scared me a little. Martha would definitely disapprove of this dress, but in that moment, I felt a rebellious urge to break free from her constraints.

Ama emerged after a few minutes. Her dress was a black corseted ball gown with a low neckline, but with two sharp edges above each breast. The skirt was hitched up and gathered in the front, resembling more of a salsa dance party dress.

“Oh my god, even if you don’t wear that to the party, you have to buy it,” Ama stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening.

“Damn,” Samuel muttered under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. I felt a wave of heat run through my body, knowing he was struggling to control his reaction to

1. me.

“I really love how you look in that dress!” I told Ama, trying to divert attention from the

tension I was feeling inside.

“Me too. It fits well, and I can dance in it,” Ama responded.

I stared at my reflection, imagining how I’d look all done up: my curls pinned low in a messy bun with a few strands falling loose; maybe red lips and high heels. The image was

so different from my usual self, yet it gave me a strange sense of belonging, as if I’d

finally found another part of me.

“Okay, one more to go,” Ama said excitedly.

Walking back to the changing room, I felt anticipation for the last dress. I had to admit, I

liked the black dress more than I’d expected. Ama was right–I would buy it regardless.

The final dress was the crimson red. It was corseted, pushing my breasts up and cinching

my waist. However, it was made of lace and completely transparent. There was black

lining for the chest, but from beneath my breasts to where the skirt began, you could see