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Chuckling, he stops. “That will have to wait until after I feed you.”
I try to think of the last time I ate, but can only remember the chai latte from this morning. Maybe my stomach has a point. Groaning, I glance toward the window. A warm glow emanates behind my thick curtains.
The sun is already setting.
Yep, I definitely need to eat again, which means I need to get around. “What type of food?”
“The type you put in your stomach.”
“No, seriously. What should I wear?”
“Whatever you want, you can come over in just that.”
“For real,” I punch him in the arm, then sit up and stretch, “what type of outfit should I wear?”
Groaning, he flops back on my bed. “Little Girl, you could wear a fishing net and you’d still look hot.”
I roll my eyes. “That wouldn’t cover up a single thing.”
“Exactly,” he tickles my side, “more holes to play with.”
Squealing, I jump up and dart away a few steps. “Dress or jeans? Come on, I don’t want to put on a pair of heels, then find out we’re climbing another mountain.”
“Wear whatever you want,” he leans his head up, piercing me with those intense, blue eyes, “I’ll make sure it’s appropriate.”
Shaking my head, I snag a new thong from my dresser, then hurry into my walk-in closet.
Whatever I want.
I bite my lip. It’s easier said than done. I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date. Like an actual date. I’m so out of my depth. I’m not even sure what people wear on dates anymore. Sure there was yesterday and last night, but that doesn’t count as adate,date.
Huffing, I slip on my thong and glance at my clothes. The dresses Viv bought for me seem to stare right at me. I can practically hear her voice, begging me to try.
“Fine.” Rolling my eyes I grab one of the dresses and tug it over my head. Smoothing it down, I smile when I realize it has pockets. So, maybe it’s not that bad and Viv is kind of actually awesome. After running a brush through my hair, a little mascara, and two coats of lip gloss, I slip on a pair of black, heeled ankle boots, then stroll out of my closet.
It’s not all out trying, I didn’t curl my hair or do a full-face of makeup, but it is a dress. That counts as trying, at least in my column.
“Damn, Prude.” Brendan sits up.
I hold my arms out, twirling from side to side. “Is it all right?” Maybe I should add some jewelry or take out the giant hoop of my nose ring.
He scrambles off the bed. “Fuck, Asra.” Still naked, he takes a few steps toward me while I bite my bottom lip and glance down at the tight, gray mini dress.
The sleeveless, almost tweed material hugs my few curves before stopping midway down my thighs. It’s not super fancy, but maybe still too much for a dinner date. I squirm from one foot to the next. When I look back up, he’s right in front of me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“It’s not too much, is it?” I fidget with the hem, pulling it down as far as it will go. “I-I can always change.”
He takes a step back, glancing down at his huge erection before meeting my questioning gaze. “Hell no. You’re wearing that.”
I start to protest, but he grabs my hand and leads me out of my room. Every few steps, he turns and stares at me.It’s creepy, sending goosebumps on my arms. People don’t normally stare at me. They don’t even look at me.
“What?” I finally ask once we reach the kitchen. “I’m going to go change. It’s too much.”
He doesn’t let go of my hand. “You’re hot as hell. If you really don’t like it, you can change . . .AfterBreckin sees it.” Reaching down with his other hand, he picks up the strip of condoms from beside the island, then continues to drag me out of the house. “But, promise me you’ll at least show him first.”
“Great,” I hug my arms around my chest, “now I really feel like a swamp ogre.” I didn’t think I lookedthatbad everyday, where shaving my legs and putting on a dress would be such a big deal.
