Reilly's Revenge Ch. 01

Reilly pulled her green sweatshirt over her light blue Calvin Klein bra. Grabbing her brush from the counter, she pulled it softly through her freshly cleaned medium length red hair, parting it down the side like usual. She stuffed the brush into her gym bag before jumping into her favorite pair of jeans. The highlights on the dark wash, high waisted, skinny jeans made her ass and legs look amazing. She'd worked for a year and a half to look this hot, and she was only too happy to reap the reward of the long hours invested into her fitness. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her backside in the mirror, then to the side to admire her tiny waist, but rounded ass, justly proud. She slid into her wood wedges and sauntered confidently out into the main area of the gym. She pretended not to notice the guy in the orange tank top on the treadmill, who nearly fell from trying to catch a glance. She didn't blame him, but it still made her feel a little self-conscious.

Reilly waved a goodbye to the guy behind the counter before exiting the large grey building into the brightness of the morning. Pulling her keys out of her adidas gym bag, she unlocked her sleek, tiny, dark blue car and opened the door, tossing her gym bag a little haphazardly into the passenger seat where it fell unhappily onto the floor. The second she turned the key in the ignition she got a notification ding on her phone. Now thoroughly regretting the willy-nilly treatment of her gym bag, she leaned over, pinching her outer thigh on the seat-belt fastener.

She let out a small yelp as she yanked her gym bag back off of the floor and rustled through it to find her phone. Reilly opened her phone, confronted with a Facebook "memories" notification from 2 years ago. She practically glared at the phone as it pulled up not only a picture, but bitter memories. Things she had tried hard to forget. The man standing next to her in the photo was her ex-boyfriend James. Tall, handsome, charming... a little too charming. The bastard had left her for her "best friend" and they had flown off to Rome to get married a month afterward.

She tightly shut her eyes, resisting the tears welling up from the betrayal and alienation the whole thing had caused her. She remembered all too well his "reasons" for leaving. She was overweight, and not "fun" anymore. And he couldn't stand the idea of making love to her, let alone spending his whole life with her. The words cut so deeply. Opening her eyes again she stared at the girl in the photo. 5'4", 180lbs, happy.

Reilly had never hated that girl, until James had taught her to. After the breakup and subsequent proposal and wedding, Reilly had wallowed in a deep depression, hating herself, and her body, and resenting the fact that it had made her beloved James leave.

Well, she didn't feel that way any longer. She was strong as hell, and hell-bent on revenge. After she shook herself off and started beating up punching bags instead of herself, she became as gorgeous as any Victoria Secret model and even though she still held feeling of being self-conscious from her less healthy days, she was ready to flaunt her perfect body.

She rolled back her shoulders, fastened her seatbelt and put her "angry" music on. She pulled out of the parking lot with a singular thought on her mind. "It's time."

A Few Days Later

Reilly pulled up to James' office, handed her key to the valet and gave him a flirtatious wink. She had to get into character, so she might as well start now. She walked through the front lobby, acting like she belonged there and made it past the security guards with a coy smile and a strategic bat of her eyelashes. She knew if she could just make it to the elevator, the world would be hers, or something to that effect. Her high heels clicked as she stepped into the elevator and her heart beat a little faster as the button for the 12th floor illuminated at her touch.

The doors closed in front of her and she breathed a sigh of relief before straightening her shoulders and checking to make sure she looked good in the polished metal of the elevator doors. She knew just what to wear to get under James' collar and she was going to use that to her full advantage right now. Her body looked amazing, even she could admit it to herself. She'd worn sheer black pantyhose with the seam up the back, and a slightly too short for professional flowing black skirt. Not quite mini, but not quite long enough to leave a lot to imagination either.

She'd put a push up bra on under her voluptuous C cup breasts making them at least Ds, thinking to herself that if gaining the weight had done anything for her, those were it, and had worn a beautiful emerald green blouse, tucked in delicately in the front, with a deviously placed neckline. She'd made sure the hints of her black lace bra could be seen every once and while when the shirt fluttered as she walked.

Her heels were tall, and black, with slight pumps under the toe, making Reilly a full 5'9". She checked her makeup as the bell signaled her arrival on the 12th floor, and she smirked to herself. She could hardly wait to see James, and she bet that he wouldn't be able to wait to see her again either.