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“What about this leopard print leather?” the lady asks.
I shake my head before Abigail can answer. “Hell no to anything with a leopard print.”
Another pair of leather pants is brought for us to see, and I nod.
“Okay, let me try it on,” the love of my life says before she heads to the dressing rooms.
Getting up, I follow after her and check each of the stalls before I’m satisfied that she’ll be safe.
When I start to walk back to the lounge, she asks, “Don’t you want to stay?”
“No, I don’t think the shop attendants want to hear me fucking you senseless.”
“Ooh, new kink unlocked,” she taunts me before pulling the curtain shut behind her.
I shake my head as I take a seat again, my eyes locked on the entrance to the dressing room. I love my woman’s kinky side, but what she doesn’t know is that the window in my bedroom is one-way glass. There’s no way I’ll ever risk another man seeing her naked.
When Abigail comes out and twirls in a circle for me, I nod immediately. “It’s perfect. Get two because I might rip that one off your body.”
“Hmm… promises, promises,” she teases me before swaying her sexy ass back to the stall.
While I watch Abigail try on one outfit after the other, I wonder how men can hate this. Seeing her smile while she tries to tempt me every chance she gets makes me happy.
Christ, I’m so fucking happy. How did I ever live a day without her?
When Abigail is satisfied with her wardrobe, I arrange for everything to be packed and carried to the G-Wagon we keep in Finland for our shopping trips.
I pay the outstanding amount, and taking my future wife’s hand, I lead her out of the store.
“Oh my God, Nikolai. Look!” I’m yanked across the road to where a petting zoo has been erected in the middle of town. “It’s a llama.” Without any fear, Abigail rubs the animal’s head.
“Careful,” I warn her.
“Aww…he’s smiling at me,” she coos.
“Llamas, don’t smile,” I grumble, the pungent smell of all the shit getting to me.
“I want one,” she demands.
“Hell no. They spit.”
“You won’t spit at me, Right?” she talks to the animal while scratching behind one of his ears.
Again I’m yanked as Abigail darts to the next pen. “Aww, aren’t they cute?”
“They’re pigs,” I state the obvious.
“Pot-belly pigs,” she corrects me as she lets go of my hand to crouch down. “Aren’t you an adorable little piggy.”
I can’t help but smile at the sight of Abigail petting a pig.
“I want one. I can name him Bacon.”
My smile drops from my face, and I shake my head. “You’re not serious.”
She gives me a mischievous smile before she heads for the enclosure holding bunnies.
Dear God. She’s going to make me look at all the animals.
