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Watching as Krissy tries to do the same.
“I can try something on for you,” she suggests, twisting her mouth as she makes a quick selection of underwear and another outfit.
“But only if you block the door,” she adds, biting her lower lip.
Looking like she’s getting off herself the more she drives me wild with that sweet, curvy body of hers.
I grunt and nod, figuring an eyeful of her perfect body will have to do for now.
But Krissy suddenly gets shy.
Overhearing someone coming to ask if everything’s alright, I shield her with my body.
Turning my head to reassure them things have never been better.
Krissy pokes her tongue out playfully, leaving me to cover my arousal and wait for her outside the booth. I hear her shimmying out of one outfit and into another.
The crack in the door gives me a perfect view of her, though, as I press my face against it.
Resisting the urge to pleasure myself while I watch her, remembering where we both are right now.
“Oh, Mr. Silverthorne?” A different but still familiar voice chimes, someone else interrupting me for I don’t know how many times now.
The guy from the watch counter continues, “We can have that Rolex sent over from our New York store. We can have it sent straight up to your….”
He stops dead, seeing me double over, spying on Krissy as she changes.
I shoo him away with my hand.
“Yeah, yeah.” I hiss. “Whatever….”
A watch or anything else is a million miles from my mind right now.
“Everything alright in there?” he calls out to Krissy, sounding lighthearted enough but eyeing me suspiciously.
Like he’s never seen a grown man peeking while his girl gets dressed.
Come to think of it he probably hasn’t.
Krissy shows us both she’s more than alright. Stepping out from the little booth in simple jeans and sweater ensemble, I still let out a low groan.
Those grab me and squeeze my hips hugged by fresh denim. And her stiff nipples and ample chest brimming out of a hooded sweater.
“Perfect,” I murmur to myself, not even caring if the whole world sees what she does to me now.
If they can’t see it for themselves or haven’t figured it out yet, she belongs to me now.
But I think we’re done shopping for now once it’s clear the staff has a store to run and not a funhouse for a horny older guy and his girl.
Plus, having someone else so close. Someone so near Krissy.
I surprise myself with how quickly I reign in my behavior.
She’s mine, sure. But nobody else gets to see her pinky toe from now on except me.
Shuddering at the thought, I’m relieved when I see Krissy with clothes on. Making sure the clerk gets my full attention until he disappears from sight again.
“You don’t like it?” Krissy asks, looking confused by my sudden change in mood.
But turning and seeing her face again cancels out everything.
“I think you look amazing,” I tell her truthfully. “You just make me act like an animal sometimes,” I murmur, grateful when she gives a little mock growl and claws at me.
“You’re the only kind of animal I want,” she whispers as she stands on tippy toes.
I meet her halfway, bending down to peck her soft lips.
“Now, I need to choose which ones to keep and which to…,” she says, but I frown, feeling my head jerk back a little.
“You’ll have everything you want,” I remind her firmly. “You can have every outfit in the building if you want.”
I hear how stupid I must sound, and Krissy cocks her brow, asking if I’m okay.
“I just want you to be happy, is what I mean,” I tell her—relaxing a little more when she holds onto me, pressing her face into my chest.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she mews.
“About me being happy, I mean… I know it’s not about clothes or money. Or anything else,” she tells me, lifting her eyes to meet mine, and I hold her chin with my thumb and forefinger.
Staring back into her baby blues.
“I…Krissy. I think I lo…,” I stutter.
“Yes?” she rasps, her eyes opening wider as she leans into me harder.
Waiting for me to say it. But I can’t.
Not yet.
Not here.
“I…I love your outfit,” is the best I can do, suddenly tongue-tied when I feel myself about to tell her how I really feel so soon.
She creases a smile, sensing what I really mean but maybe still unsure for now.
But when I claim you, Krissy. When you’re truly mine, I think I’ll find the right words…
“Just tell me you picked more than jeans and a sweater,” I remark.
“Tell me you picked something special for tonight,” I add, meaning a ridiculously overpriced dress and maybe some of that next-to-nothing lingerie that I can already picture myself tearing off with my teeth.
“I guess you’ll have to wait,” she grins, teasing me some more and brushing my still rock-hard arousal with her hand.
