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“Honestly,” I added, leaning against the counter.
“Alright,” he shrugged, smiling at the sales girl who was currently checking him out. I was used to girls swooning over Trace, so it didn’t really bother me, but it was annoying when they stood there gawking instead of doing their job.
“We’d like this,” Trace pointed to the items on the counter when she didn’t move.
She shook her head harshly, snapping herself out of a daze. “Oh, right. Of course. I’m sorry.”
Trace ignored her, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He smiled at me sheepishly.
“This is all?” She asked, ringing up the items. “We have some perfumes on sale,” she pointed a finger at a round table set up near the door.
“Olivia?” Trace prompted.
“I don’t want anything else,” I assured him.
“You heard the woman,” Trace laughed.
The sales girl’s gaze flicked my way and jealousy sparked in her eyes. I wondered if Trace was wearing his I Heart Ketchup shirt if she’d still feel that way.
She totaled the items and rattled off the price. Trace handed over his shiny black credit card and let her swipe it. The receipt printed out and she put it in the bag along with the other items. “Have a nice day,” she forced a smile as she handed me the pale pink shopping bag.
“You too,” I said, trying to be polite.
When we stepped outside, Trace grabbed his phone from his pocket, looking at the time. “Let’s head back to the hotel and get ready. That way, we can grab a nice dinner before we head to the coffee shop. I’m sick of fast food.”
“Sounds good to me,” I shrugged, turning in the direction to head back to the car.
Luckily, when we made it back to the hotel, he didn’t try to carry me inside. I dropped my shopping bags on the bed, kicking off my sneakers.
“I’m gonna shower,” he pointed over his shoulder at the bathroom. “Care to join me?” He grinned cheekily.
“I already showered,” I replied, pulling off my socks and knotting them into a ball.
“Alright, fine, your loss,” he shrugged as he entered the bathroom and closed the door.
I knew it wouldn’t take Trace long to get ready, he was a guy after all, so that meant I better get a move on.
There was a floor length mirror hanging on the wall beside the dresser. I stood in front of it, pulling my hair out of the braid and trying to tame the wavy strands by running my fingers through it. I knew from experience that brushing it would only make it turn into a poufy mess. When it was smoothed out I parted it in the middle and took two sections, which I braided and pulled back, securing it with a ponytail holder. I let the rest of my hair hang down past my shoulders. I added some gloss to my lips and some more mascara before touching up the foundation around my eye.
When that was done, I stripped out of my clothes and cut the tags off of the outfit Trace had bought me. The corset was black with varying shades of pink roses. The leaves on the flowers were an aqua blue that matched the shoes. I knew I was going to have to forgo a bra so I really hoped my boobs didn’t fall out. That would be mortifying.
I put the corset on, zipping it closed in the front, and slipping on the skirt. The corset ended above my belly button and since the skirt didn’t come up that far I was left showing more skin than I was used to. I assessed my appearance in the mirror, my belly button ring shimmering in the light. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.
“A bathing suit shows more skin, Olivia. Calm down,” I told myself, fisting my hands at my sides.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Trace asked as he opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room. Steam billowed out behind him and his dark hair was
damp.
“No,” I said a bit too quickly, causing him to smile. “Okay, yes,” I admitted. “But only because this is a bit...revealing,” I frowned at my reflection. “I don’t want people gawking at me.” I had thought I’d get a dress that covered a lot more. Leave it to Trace to pick out something that left me feeling naked.
He strode up behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“You’re beautiful, Olivia. Don’t ever doubt that. Besides, if anyone starts staring at you, I’ll take care of it. You’re mine,” he growled huskily, nibbling on my earlobe, “and I’ll make sure they know it.” He skimmed his nose along my neck and murmured, “Your boobs look really good in this.”
“Trace!” I giggled his name.
“What? It’s true,” his hands skimmed over my stomach and up to cup my breasts. He gave them a light squeeze and stepped back. “Hungry?”
