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He turns to face me with his eyebrows raised. “What for?”
“For helping with…all this,” I state, waving my hand around at the room's grandeur.
“Don’t worry about it.” His words from earlier replay in my mind as he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me to the first rack of dresses.
If I get to watch you change…
Fuck.
I grip my coffee cup tight with one hand and run my fingers over the material of the dresses with the other. There’s an overwhelming array of choices and I have no idea where to begin.
“So, what is tonight supposed to be about?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming task I now face.
“I’m not entirely sure, It’s the first one of the school year, but I believe it will be all about connecting families, giving our parents a chance to see us alive, and letting The Monarchy see what talent is coming through the ranks.”
“I don’t like the sound of any of that,” I admit, pausing at a silky option for a moment before continuing down the line.
“Me either, but we’re the byproducts of our surroundings, Raven. Until we’re stronger, they say jump and we ask how high. It’s all about biding our time and surviving the mess they throw at us.”
I hatethateven more.
“Have you found anything you like?” Louisa asks, appearing out of nowhere.
“Uhm…”
“She’ll try these, please.” Creed walks back down the line and points out six options that I lingered on when passing. “Are you happy with them?” His gaze turns to me and I smile, nodding in agreement before we’re waltzed toward the back of the store.
Curtains section off the space into five different areas and Louisa leads us into the first one on the left. The pale pink drapes offer a secluded area with ample space to try the dresses on in private. The options Creed selected are hanging on a rail to the right, the far wall is lined with floor-length mirrors, and there’s an oversized chair to the left against the far wall.
“I can see there are a few options here that will require lacing up. It’s always better to have an assistant do this instead of magic. I will just go and see who we have available.”
“That won’t be necessary, but thank you.” Creed’s words wash over me like a heavy dose of ecstasy. It will just be the two of us in here while I try each dress on. How am I supposed to survive that? Louisa’s gaze momentarily skims between us as if she’s trying to find a reason to decline, but before she can, Creed continues, “We’ll call you back when she’s decided on one.”
He moves toward the curtain behind us and she follows him. “Of course,” she says with a nod, but Creed is already closing the drapes, sealing us off from the rest of the world.
“Where do you want to start?” Creed asks, taking the coffee cup from my hand before getting comfortable in the oversized chair.
I nibble on my bottom lip nervously. He’s serious about watching me and it’s turning me on to no end. Needing a moment to think before he offers to help with the lace, I opt for the most effortless dress first.
Shaking off my blazer, I drape it over the small stool by the clothes and glance back at him. “You’re just going to sit and watch?”
“Until you need my help, yeah.”
My heart rate kicks up a notch, a slight tremble in my fingers as I try to shake off my nervousness under his intense gaze.
Removing the rest of my uniform, I’m in just my black bra and panties when I reach for the black dress. The chiffon material clings to me like a second skin as I turn in front of the mirror. It’s cute, but the draped sleeves aren’t really my style.
I catch a glimpse of Creed in the mirror. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes are transfixed on me as I undo the zipper and move on to the forest-green option. I don’t get as far as stepping into it, though, because when I hold it up against me, the green clashes with my pink hair.
The yellow one is too puffy, the white one too…ceremonial, which leaves me with the pink and lilac dresses, both of which need to be laced up. I’m sure there’s a hot flush all over my skin from being acutely aware of Creed’s gaze, but I try my best to act unfazed. Reaching for the pink one, I turn to ask for his help, only to find him standing in front of me.
“Come,” he mutters, standing in the center of the white rug. He takes the dress from my hands and pools it on the floor before holding his hand out for me to take.
Warmth ripples through my fingertips and up my arm from the contact as he helps me step into the bundled material. His calloused fingers skim over my heated skin, hitching my breath as our eyes latch onto one another in the mirror.
I slip my arms into the dainty sleeves before he laces up the corset. Every pull hits me straight in the core, my breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as I watch him fixate on every last detail. Once he’s done, his hands fall to my waist, squeezing slightly as he finds me in the mirror again.
Without a word, he pulls the hair tie from my bun, letting the messy pink curls fall around my shoulders. He sweeps the locks back off my shoulder, exposing my collarbone and neck, and his eyes simmer with fire.
