Nicole looks so peaceful and irresistible when she sleeps. As tempting as it is to slide closer to her and wake her with my fingers, I carefully pull away instead.

After washing up quietly, I scribble a short note. I set it quietly on the pillow near her head, tiptoeing closer to the bed.

I can’t seem to stop myself from reaching out and smoothing an errant hair on her cheek.

But this will be worth it.

The note lets her know I’ll be back by mid-day, and not to go anywhere. Nicely, of course.

I debate tying her to the bed. Always a wonderfully kinky thought—but maybe in a few more years.

I smirk with these thoughts as I creep out. It’ll be worth it.

It’s hard to surprise her if I’m constantly with her. And I want to be with her.

She’s a drug, I’m sure of it.

Entering the lobby, I’m happy to see a few taxis waiting. The driver first in line hops out as he sees me coming.

“Can you take me to Atelier Flavia?”

“Si, signore.”

He opens the car door for me.

I spend most of the ride on the phone, setting up my elaborate plan.

I quickly call the limousine companies the concierge referred. It’s a short notice, but the third call was a success.

As we pull over in front of the exclusive boutique, I pass him the payment with a hefty tip.

“Do you mind waiting? I should be quick.”

Nodding yes quickly, he jumps out to open my door.

Atelier Flavia’s front entrance has a waiting room, where a sharply dressed young woman greets me.

“Welcome, I’m Venus.” Her handshake is limp and awkward. “What can we help you with today?”

Her appreciative smile puts me on guard.

“I’m here to pick something out for my wife.”

I intentionally drop the wife bomb. It’s one of the nice perks of being married.

An easy deterrent. At this point, it’s hard to imagine ever being attracted to anyone else.

Nicole makes everyone else pale in comparison.

“Right this way, signore.” She turns and escorts me into a private room. “Would you like any refreshments?”

“No, thank you. I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m interested in a ball gown, preferably in a deep jewel tone. Maybe a blue or green or purple?”

“Certainly sir. Is there a size you can give us?”

“A size six would be good. Maybe I’ll take some water.”

This is a little out of my comfort zone.

“Excellent, signore. Just give us a few moments.”

She shuts the door quietly behind her and leaves.

The room has a three-sided mirror with a platform in front of it.

I briefly think about how I’d love to bring Nicole shopping with me to a place like this.

I’ll put it on my pending to do list. Her beautiful body is made to be showcased.

My phone dings, and I smile as I read the text from Nicole.

What are you up to?

I type back, Wouldn’t you like to know! xx

Two minutes later, with a small soft rap on the door, Venus pops in and hands me a bottle of water.

“Just a few more minutes, signore.”

Just as she completes saying this, three women in gowns slide in behind her.

It takes thirty seconds for me to decide. With the plunging neckline and deep V in the back, the emerald green gown was fit for a princess.

My Princess. I know she’ll love it.

“The green one, please?”

Venus smiles. “Very good choice sir. Sara, please step up to the mirror. Greta and Ana, you may go.”

Sara steps up on the platform and slowly turns in a circle.

The dress is truly exquisite. Crystals or whatever sparkly things decorate the top of the dress. The clusters form a unique scroll pattern, and they slowly disburse after tightening at the waist where it flares out.

The low-cut front and back almost mirror one another.

She’ll love it, and I can’t wait to see her in it.

Her breasts will be perfectly displayed—for me—and my dick perks up at my wandering thoughts.

Shifting and leaning forward, I hide my growing erection. The errant motherfucker.

I take a quick picture of the dress color for future reference.

“Can I get this packed up and delivered immediately?”

“Absolutely, signore. If you want to follow me up front here, we can finalize the address and delivery location.”

Venus holds open the door for Sara, who files out in front of us.

I text Nicole.

Expect a delivery. Get Luciano set for the day. Love you. xx

She responds immediately.

I guess I’ll owe you again. Haha. He’s set. Love you! xx

I settle the bill and finalize all the delivery information.

Filling out a card, I tell her I can’t wait to see her in the gown. To put it on and be ready for a trip out.

At the curb, my taxi driver is waiting. He opens the back door and asks, “Where to next, signore?”

“Albiubagio, please.” I relax into the seat and give him the address for the restaurant.

When we pull up, I know this is the perfect place. I did some research online, and according to its reviews, this is the most romantic restaurant in the city.

The architecture, location, and ambience are exactly what Nicole will love.

I need to make a reservation in person to confirm. This must be special, and for me, that means no sharing. I want the place to ourselves.

I’m going to have Nicole all to myself, for my eyes only.

Walking in the restaurant confirms all of my thoughts and expectations. It’s perfect.

The accommodating woman at the front walks me through the restaurant to discuss the best table. They also boast one of the top chefs in the city. The menu is superb.

“Is your manager available?”

She’s a bit taken aback. But with a murmured, “One moment,” she spins on her practical heels and heads for the back.

She returns with an older, slightly stooped gentleman.

“I’m Piero.” We shake hands, and the man asks, “How can I help you, signore?”

“I’d like to book the restaurant for the lunch hour. Is that possible? What would that cost?”

“Ah, the cost of love. This has been done before. Let me discuss with the chef.”

He shuffles off to the back.

I take a seat and call a florist.

White roses. One dozen. Perfect, just like Nicole.

As I wind down, Piero shuffles up and sits with me. We negotiate briefly before settling on a price.

So, I have the dress, flowers and the reservation.

Now for the final touch. This is the easy part for me.

I direct my taxi driver to Boggi Milano so I can try to look as good as Nicole.

The staff is more than accommodating at Boggi Milano. I explain to them I was interested in a black tuxedo, they pull the requested items quickly and efficiently.

“Can I use the dressing room to get changed now?”

The associate doesn’t seem surprised. He ushers me back into a private dressing room.

I intentionally went with the white roses to be neutral, but my biggest decision will be the complementary tie. Pulling the picture up of the dress, I confer with the associate to finalize my choice.

I stroll out after fifteen minutes. My taxi driver does a double take.

“Very nice, signore.” He opens the door, so I can slide inside. “Where to next?”

“That’s it, sir. Thanks for your driving services this morning.”

Smiling, I settle in to contemplate the afternoon and evening.

I hope Nicole is ready for me—because I’m more than ready for her.

Quickly, I text her.

Ready or not—I’m on my way. xx

I think about her in that gown. Damn.

It may be a long afternoon. Or maybe not.

Who’s to say what we make it up to on our travels?

I chuckle to myself.

I haven’t even seen her in the gown, and I’m ready to take it off already.