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June’s face falls slightly, but I nod my agreement before croaking, “We’ll both be in black.” I wave a hand between my brother and me. “I think blue would be good for you—or red, maybe.”
One of the girls nods firmly. “We have plenty of other options in the back.”
She’s not kidding. Our drinks are long gone by the time June has gone through half a dozen dresses. And as she goes through them, it’s clear she gains confidence, posing for us every time she steps out, admiring herself in the three-way mirror.
“That’s the winner.” I can’t remember the last time I was ever so sure about anything as I am now, watching June emerge wearing a red dress that looks more like it was poured over her. It could have been made for her, the silk hugging her every curve, showing just enough cleavage to attract a man’s attention without giving away too much.
“You think so?” Her cheeks go almost as red as the fabric encasing her body as she examines herself from every angle.
“Without a doubt,” I insist while hunger uncoils low in my belly. She is beyond tempting, beyond anything I’ve ever known. The perfect blend of innocence and sensuality.
“You look great,” Theo agrees.
Better than great. She’s enough to stir a dozen risky ideas to life. Filthy, risky ideas. I can hardly breathe as I watch her giggling with the salesgirl, who recommends shoes and accessories. She’s glowing, eyes shining, and I’ve never been so drawn to anyone or anything in my life.
As soon as the girl darts off to look for an appropriate purse, I’m on my feet, handing Theo my flute. “Cover for me.”
“What are you doing?”
I ignore his question in favor of following June into the dressing area, where she ducks into a smaller cubby without noticing me. Something dark and dangerous surges in my chest spiking my pulse before I open the curtain.
She whirls around, one hand on her chest. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” she gasps.
It isn’t her heart I’m concerned with. It’s the way her tits rise and fall wildly under her palm. She’s still dressed, but I know her body well enough that no amount of silk can hide her.
“I was wondering something.” Closing the curtain, I have to revel in having her like this. The two of us alone in a busy boutique. Women chatting only feet away from where I back her up against the wall.
June gulps, eyes darting over my face. “Wh-what?”
“Miss?” a girl calls out from the other side of the curtain. “I have that clutch for you.”
June licks her lips before raising her voice to say, “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll work just fine.”
Good girl. My dick is rigid by the time I drag my thumb over her plump bottom lip and make her breath catch sharply. “I wondered whether there are any scenes in your books where the guy and girl fuck around in public.”
“There . . . are . . .” She can hardly whisper now that her breathing has picked up speed. When I lean in closer, pinning her to the wall, her pebbled nipples brush my chest.
“I thought there had to be.” Fuck, she is so ripe. So willing. I can hardly remember back to before she stumbled into my life. Before I ever touched and tasted her. Now, sliding a hand over the hourglass curve of her waist, I know exactly when she’s going to sigh softly and melt against me.
“We can’t do this,” she whispers, even as I feel her body push into mine, screaming its agreement.
“Says who?” Slowly, I slide my hand along the slit of her dress, then bunch the silk in my fist, raising it higher until her soft thigh is exposed. With my other hand I test her skin, teasing the hem of the lacy thong barely covering her pussy. “Nobody tells me what I can’t do.”
She arches against me, eyes closing when I cup her mound. Hot, so hot, with dampness already starting to seep through once my fingertips trace her seam. “It doesn’t feel like you’re against this happening. And it is happening, June.”
“Miss?” The voice outside the curtain is louder now. “Is everything all right?”
Finally, Theo makes himself useful. “She’s fine. Maybe a little overwhelmed. She doesn’t get out much, so this is a big deal.”
The girl who doesn’t get out much gasps when I delve underneath her thong to probe her heat. “Better be quiet,” I whisper, rolling my hips to grind against her in a desperate attempt at satisfaction. “Don’t want to get in trouble.”
“It would be—” She whimpers when I find her button and roll my finger around the tip. “Your fault.”
“I’m not the one making noise.”
“Adrian . . .” She bites back another whimper before spreading her legs wider. Her short breaths fan warmth across my face, quicker with every stroke. She’s mine. In the palm of my hand. Something so sweet, so vulnerable. Mine to pleasure or to break.
I’m only interested in pleasure as I ease one, then two fingers deep inside her tight channel. “I would rather this was my cock,” I grunt, pumping in and out while she writhes helplessly and makes my blood heat until I’m sure it’ll kill me.
