Laila nodded. “Got it.”
Everyone turned to me.
Shit.
“Uh.”
Boss Lady folded her arms and tapped one finger on her navy-blue suit jacket sleeve. “Yes, Mr. Thornton?”
“I’m experiencing a wardrobe malfunction.”
Laila laughed behind her hand.
“It’s too late now,” Boss Lady said. “You’re going out there with whatever you’re wearing.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. The whole point of this is good PR. If I go out there like this? It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Laila clutched at her sides when she started laughing harder.
Boss Lady scowled at her. “I don’t understand.”
I had no intention of telling the severe woman in charge that I had an erection and that it was straining within the silk fabric and desperate to be free—so desperate I found myself in physical pain as the vise tightened and tightened. I grimaced. “Please, for the love of all that is good, let me change.”
Laila took mercy on me. “I saw a nice pair of men’s briefs in the store window when I arrived. They’re black with a red waistband and would match my set. Why can’t we let him wear those? Besides, with how revealing his outfit is right now, it’s not right to send him out into a crowded store. All those women are going to treat him like a stripper.”
Lexi chimed in. “I’ll go get the mosh pit started. Any last words, Mr. Thornton?”
Laila held up her hand. “Not so fast, Lexi. We’ve had our fun. Let’s cut him some slack. Literally.”
Boss Lady sent Erin to fetch the boxers Laila was talking about, and I had half a mind to sink to my knees and kiss the feet of the woman who had spared my ego and my manhood from certain castration.
CHAPTER 14
LAILA
Storm took the whole modeling and VIP shopping event in stride. As soon as he was relieved from the literal constraints of what must have felt like a medieval torture device around his manhood, he was back to his usual confident, charming, suave self.
We posed for what felt like ages. We took pictures standing side by side or back to back. Sometimes he had his arm wrapped around my waist, and sometimes I had my leg hooked around his. In some pictures his fingers trailed across the waistband of my panties, and in others my lips hovered over his pulse at his neck. We took turns being the star of the shot and the supporting model, and on numerous occasions, he intentionally muttered jokes in my ear to make me break, which the photographer seemed to thoroughly enjoy and encouraged as we continued shooting in front of the audience of shoppers, which must have tallied up to almost a thousand people.
When the photographer announced that we only had a few more frames left, Storm pulled me around in front of him and stood with his hands on my hips. He held me firmly up against him and told me to tip my head back. I did, finding his shoulder a comfortable pillow and his jaw a delicious view to enjoy while the camera flashed.
For personal reasons, I would not be giving the panties of this set back. They were officially mine forever. With the way Storm had been handling me all afternoon, it was safe to say I’d marked them as my own.
Once we were done with the pictures, the crowd swallowed us whole.
Storm and I were pulled in every direction to sign autographs and pose for pictures. As soon as his hands weren’t on me or I couldn’t feel the heat of his back against mine, I felt exposed. As the event grew even more wild and spilled into every corner of the store, I found myself constantly looking for Storm in the crowd, as if I worried someone would steal him away or we would be pulled too far apart to find our way back to each other.
Just days ago, I’d hated his guts and wanted him nowhere near me. Now I felt strangely tied to him.
Perhaps it was because I felt understood, and like I understood him in turn.
We were thrust back together for more pictures, and as we stood posing, he turned to me, pressed two fingers under my chin, and tilted my head back so I was looking up at him.
Casey was right.
Storm was insanely hot.
I felt lightheaded and weak in the knees when he smiled at me.
“Don’t give anything away,” he whispered, “but I’m thinking about making a run for it. Are you in?”
My eyes narrowed and I started to pull back, but his fingers under my chin pressed up more firmly, stilling me.
His thumb moved up to my bottom lip. More camera flashes struck like lightning all around us. “I said don’t give anything away. Are you in or out?”
His hand was terribly warm, his touch treacherously firm.
“How?”
His gaze flicked past me. “We go to change and get a drink of water. We run out the back door. My car is parked back there. You get in the passenger seat. I drive. We break a few traffic laws to put enough distance between us and your bodyguard. Easy.”
I swallowed. Lexi would be pissed. But she’d come around. She knew how little I got to be out on my own without her or a security detail in tow. Storm’s offer was simply too tempting. I smiled. “I’ll follow your lead.”
He gave me a dangerous grin. “That’s the spirit.”
Storm led the way to the back room. His broad shoulders cut a narrow path through the crowd. Hands reached out to touch us or offer us laminated photos and sharpies to use to leave our autographs. I signed about a dozen, but Storm didn’t stop for any. He had his sights on the bigger prize—escape.
We slipped into the back room and found Erin and a few other assistants milling around. Erin’s eyes narrowed at Storm and she barked at him to get back out there.
Storm raked his fingers through his hair. “Cut me some slack, Erin. We’re just grabbing a drink of water. That crowd is vicious. How about next time you go out in front of a bunch of strangers in your underwear, and I’ll take humiliating pictures and post them online?”
“It’s not my fault that’s what you pay me to do.” Erin crossed her arms but wore a playful smirk. Clearly, these two had worked together for some time and understood the price of the gig. “And for the record, I’d rather eat a bag of my own hair than stand half-naked in front of that many people.”
I snorted.
Storm grabbed two water bottles from a mini fridge and shouldered the back door open. Erin watched him, but not like his babysitter, as he took a deep breath, pretending to enjoy the fresh air as it washed over him. I followed, lingering in the open doorway as we cracked open our water bottles and drank greedily.
All the while, Storm kept his eye on the others in the room. “When I say go, we run, got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good girl.”
Yup. The panties were toast.
A thrill of excitement rippled through me and settled in my tummy, tight and fluttery, uncomfortable but glorious all at once. The last time I’d felt this kind of anticipation had been at my first runway show for Cupid’s Arrows. Admittedly, I’d been a hell of a lot more nervous then, and I’d thrown up six times before I even made it to the runway.
Someone in the store shouted that they needed an extra set of hands behind the register. A couple of staff members hurried out front to help while Erin and Storm’s assistants poked their heads around the corner to get a look at the chaos. I grabbed my purse from where it hung on a hook near the fridge and casually put it over my shoulder.