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“This dress is all kinds of wrong,” I say breathlessly as our eyes connect through the mirror, but he isn’t saying a damn thing in reply.
It’s gold and covered in sequins, with a neckline that ends at my belly button, and I’m not even exaggerating. One wrong move and everyone will be well acquainted with my breasts. It cinches in around my hips - which aren’t so nonexistent now that I’m able to eat three meals a day - and falls to my ankles with a slit that travels all the way to my panty line. Like fuck will I ever wear this.
“You’re right, this is all kinds of wrong,” he says and I’m surprised with how easily he agrees with me. I knew by his face that he didn’t like it either, but I guess I was expecting some ridicule of something at my expense. “Although,” my heart rate ratchets as his hand drops from my shoulders, g
lides around my waist and rests on my bare stomach. “It does have its appeal.”
My eyes are riveted to his hand, as he slides it up over my flushed skin. Moving so damn slow until he gets to the bottom of my bra and with a deft flick of his fingers, has it popping open. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I wait to see what he’ll do next, only he doesn't do anything. Instead he chooses to walk away and take his seat on the sofa, while I’m standing here with my chest flushed and my entire body thrumming from the fact that something could have happened in this public space.
“You won’t need a bra for the next two either, come along Thirty-Four and no more keeping your back to me. Not unless you’re planning on touching your toes,” I look over my shoulder at him and his smirk leaves me feeling both annoyed and flustered. I think I hate clothes shopping more now than I ever have before.
Closing my eyes as I turn around to face him and I pull the dress back over my head, my bra joining it on the floor. I know he’s made my body sing and given me my first orgasm but this feels more intimate somehow. I can’t make sense of my mind but I can feel my hands beginning to shake at my side as I slowly reach around blindly for the next dress. Only I don’t stumble upon it, it’s simply placed into my arms without a single word being said.
That one act of kindness from Tucker doesn’t automatically make him the good guy in my mind, but it has helped to put a slight dampener on my nerves and I’m grateful for the reprieve. I slowly open my eyes and find him typing away on his phone and a smile threatens to tug at my lips as I step into the next dress and make quick work of sliding the zipper up at the side. I look at myself in the mirror once I’m done and I’m shocked at how perfect it really is.
A pale blue ball gown with a sweetheart neckline and thin spaghetti straps, it comes in around my waist with a royal blue sash before falling to the ground. The skirt is amazing with a royal blue flower pattern climbing up from the ground, and I think I may have found the dress.
“The next one,” Tucker demands from his seat and I can’t help but do a little eye roll before turning around to face him.
“This one is fine, it fits like a glove and it’s really rather beautiful,” I say on a soft sigh and I’m awarded with a growl, which almost makes me lose my eyebrows within my hairline.
“I said the next dress, then you can make your fucking choice,” he says it coldly but it almost feels as though he’s shouting at me and I spin around and start unzipping the dress before he can see the tears that are threatening to spill.
I make quick work of the last dress, not even taking in any of the detail as I step into it and pull it up over my hips, almost daring it to tear in my unfounded anger. Holding it up over my chest with one hand, while I reach around with the other to do the zipper up at the back. I listen as Tucker walks over to me but I still pull away when he reaches for the back of the dress.
“Stand still,” he grounds out, before pulling the zipper up and slamming me back against his chest before placing a hand over my eyes.
“Shop girl, the lights we requested. Get them set up now, she needs to see this fully,” he calls out and I bristle at his name for the workers in this place but all I can do is worry my bottom lip between my teeth and pray that I don’t say anything that can be used against me.
“Wow, she looks…” the girl doesn’t finish her sentence and I’m left standing here for countless moments, until he pulls his hand away and turns me to face the direction he wants.
“Look,” he growls against my ear, still not moving away from me and as my eyes fly open, I can’t help but want to thank him for making me try this one on after all. I mean I won’t, but I want to.
A black gown with a corset styled front with silver ribbons lacing up at the front - I’m glad for the zipper at the back as I would never get the front to look this good. It pulls in at my waist before flaring out at my hips and falling down like a waterfall. The front stops just above my knees while the back falls down to the ground creating a small train at my feet. The thing is, even though the gown itself is beautiful, it’s the small detailing that makes it exquisite and the reason why this dress has to be the one I leave here with.
Tiny silver gems have been artfully placed over the corset and down the skirt, so every time they catch the lights - I guess this is why Tucker wanted them set up - it’s almost as though I’m staring at the night sky with the stars in all their blazing glory.
“Which dress, Thirty-Four? One, two or three.” Why does it feel like I’m choosing something more than a dress and there’s one I should pick above all the others?
Whatever dress I’m ‘supposed’ to pick, it has to be this one. I can’t stop my hands from running down the skirt and I don’t even jump as I graze Tucker’s arms on the ascent.
“This one, but what if it doesn’t suit the mask?” I ask, looking back at him over my shoulder and he smirks before moving away and stepping outside the curtain.
He’s back within seconds and resumes his place behind me before resting a mask over my eyes and nose and tying it at the back.
It’s black like the dress, and so damn delicate. It has black and grey feathers bordering the top and side and silver embellishments of stars and moons running across the face.
“A perfect match,” his voice rumbles through me as his hands fall on my hips before thrusting me back until his hardness is resting against my ass.
Have I made him like this or one of the girls on the other side of the curtain? I should be happy if it was one of them… right?
“It really is,” I whisper, but my breath hitches as he pulls his hips away only to thrust them back.
My mouth falls open and his eyes are tracing over every reaction I make, it feels so strange watching us through a mirror but I can’t take my eyes away.
His hand dips down to my thigh, before traveling up and under the skirt before his thumb skirts over the triangle of my thong. Another hitch in my breath as he brushes it aside and slides between my lips, rubbing and flicking across my nub, so slowly it may as well be torture. His mouth slides down my neck and across my shoulder blade, before working its way back up, until his tongue is flicking out at a spot beneath my ear.
He captures one of my hands and my eyes nearly pop out of my skull when he places it against his erection. Fuck my life, are guys supposed to feel this… big? And hello, this is the first time any of them have ever got me to touch them in any way. What the fuck brought this on?
