He looks at me before nodding, following behind me as Mrs. Jones takes my arm and walks me over to the changing rooms at the back of the store. I look over my shoulder and blow him a kiss before I'm ushered into a dressing room.
“I'll be back,” she lets me know, before strolling off like she’s on a mission.
I hesitate before closing the door, looking up at Asher who is right behind me.
“You don't have to stay.” I know he must be busy from taking the day off yesterday, but he just leans down and kisses my forehead.
“I'll sit right there.” He points to a comfy looking gray velvet chair situated in prime position for me to model for him.
“I have my phone. I can work from here for now. Go have fun.”
I roll my eyes at that. Fun might be pushing it a little.
Closing the door, I strip out of my clothes, leaving me in just my underwear until Mrs. Jones returns a few minutes later with three dresses, one of which is the one I spotted in the window earlier.
“Here we go, size six, right?”
I nod in agreement.
“Perfect, start with these. I'm going to find you some underwear that will have your husband salivating,” she whispers with a conspiratorial wink before closing the door behind her.
Dress number one is a blood-red color. It's tight across the bust and completely strapless, leaving my shoulders bare and my tattoos on full display. It’s a corset style, but with a hidden zipper, so I don’t have to fight with a million laces at the back, thank goodness. Where the top part is tight, the skirt portion of the dress flows loosely to the ground like water, the material some type of chiffon with a shimmer that catches the light as I twirl. It’s a flirty outfit, a mix of sweet and sexy that fits my style perfectly.
I open the door and wait for Asher to look up from his phone. His eyes widen a fraction when he catches sight of me. They rove up my legs, pausing at my hips before moving slowly over my breasts and up to my face. The look in his eyes makes heat pool low in my belly.
He coughs to clear his throat. “Yes,” he tells me nonchalantly, before returning his attention to his phone.
I stifle a laugh as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected and close the door before moving on to the next dress.
This one is a deep purple and fits like a second skin, so much so that ideally it will need to be worn without underwear. It's strapless like the one before it, but that's where the similarities end. It's tight all over and ends mid-thigh. It's simple and understated yet makes my tattoos the focal point. It looks good if I do say so myself.
Opening the door once more, I find Asher’s eyes already on me. He lifts his hand and indicates with his finger for me to spin. So I do, slowly turning in a circle so he can get the full effect. I feel his eyes burning their way through the thin material of the dress, making me feel like a goddess.
“Yes,” he states, his voice a touch deeper than usual. I look over as I’m about to close the door and grin as I catch him adjusting himself.
“Oh, that looks fabulous. Here, try these too.” Mrs. Jones appears out of nowhere, handing me a pile of silky underwear before turning me back around, helping me with the zipper at the back of the dress without me having to ask. “There, now I'll give you some privacy. I’ll be out front if you need anything else. There is a help button just beside the door if you’d like me to swap the size or find anything else for you,” she tells me kindly.
“Thank you, you’ve been so helpful. I really do appreciate it.”
She squeezes my hand before leaving, nodding her head in Asher’s direction as I lock myself inside the changing room once more.
Laying the silky bundle of delicates gently on the chair in the corner, I strip out of the dress and swap it for the one that caught my eye in the shop window.
I fall in love with it the second I slide it on over my head. It’s knee-length and has a 50s style pinup look to it. The silky material ties behind the neck, pulls in tight at the chest and waist, and flares out at the hip. The black material is layered underneath, giving it a poofy effect. Each layer is multicolored, making it look like a rainbow is wrapped around my hips but only peeking through as the dress swishes when I walk.
Apart from where it ties behind my neck, the dress is completely backless until it hits the top of my ass, making me feel sexy.
I take a deep breath, feeling beautiful but, most importantly, still feeling like me.
Opening the door, I nearly jump out of my skin when I find Asher leaning against the frame instead of sitting in the chair.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I stutter, but Asher doesn’t reply, taking a step back to drink in all my glory.
“This is the one. If I had to design a dress to illustrate you best, it would be exactly like this,” he says firmly as he reaches for me, wrapping a hand around my waist.
When his palm encounters nothing but bare skin, he smiles and turns me, finding my back exposed. He trails his fingers down my spine, his gentle touch eliciting a shiver.
“You'd better get changed before I do something we really shouldn't be doing in an upmarket boutique,” he whispers huskily, closing the door behind him before I can protest.
I turn to get undressed when my eyes fall on the pile of undergarments Mrs. Jones brought in and a wicked idea springs to mind.
Stripping off the gown, I drape it on the hanger carefully, taking in my body for a moment in the mirror. High firm breasts, toned stomach, and long shapely legs, ink adorning fifty percent of my body. I have my mother's figure, but I also work hard to maintain it.
Slipping off my underwear, I paw through the new items until I find a set I like and snap off the labels so they can be scanned at the counter later.
I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn't intend to buy this stuff, but with Asher trying to play it cool, I can't help but poke the beast to get a reaction.
I slip on champagne silk French-style shorts trimmed with black lace and a matching lace bra that does fantastic things for my chest. Turning, I see the bottom of my cheeks peeking out from under the lace, enticing but not too much, leaving just enough to the imagination.
I swing the door open and lean against the frame provocatively as I take in Asher, who is now sitting in the chair again, talking quietly on his phone. He jolts when he notices me, his mouth falling open for a second before he mumbles a “gotta go” into the phone and hangs up, stalking toward me.
“You don't play fucking fair, Skittle,” he groans before snagging my lips with his, pushing me into the changing room until my back collides with the mirror. He pulls away long enough to lock the door, then he's on me again, one hand on my ass and one in my hair, anchoring me to him as his tongue plays with mine.
Pulling his lips away for a moment, he yanks the front of the bra down, freeing my breasts from their confinement before dipping his head and sucking a nipple into his warm wet mouth.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp, but he tuts at me, pulling away. Spying the underwear pile on the chair in the corner, he smiles deviously and picks up a pair of panties, ripping the price tag off before moving back to me.
“You have to be quiet. Open up,” he commands.
I look at him hesitantly, my arousal soaking through the silk material between my legs. I open my mouth, allowing him to slip the balled-up panties inside.