Images of Pippa covered in expensive silk flood my mind like a waterfall and I want to blurt out that we’ll take everything, but I don’t. I grip the armrests of the chair so hard my knuckles turn white and I remind myself to breathe.
“Perfect.” Pippa gets up and goes behind the partition that separates her naked body from everyone in the room. “Panties might be a nice change since I haven’t had them in so long.”
I don’t know if I’m strong enough to make it through this. All I want right now is to scream for everyone to get out, Hulk smash that thing keeping me from seeing her, and take her to the floor. My cock throbs in time with my heartbeat and I can feel the heat creeping up my neck. Why can’t I control myself around her? Why do I keep my distance when I’m so damn desperate for just a shred of her attention?
“Oh, this is so soft,” I hear her say and I close my eyes.
The wood of the chair groans and I look down to see I’ve put a crack in one of the arms. “Shit.”
Claire looks over at me and I pretend to crouch to cover it up. I have to get it together, but the thought of something against her bare skin that isn’t my hand is making my body uncomfortably tight.
I look up in time to see Pippa walk out from behind the screen wearing a deep purple gown. It’s nipped at the waist and flares at the hip, but the strapless top is too low. I can see the rounded swells of her breasts and suddenly my mouth is as dry as a barren desert and I thirst for the dew of her flesh.
It takes me a moment to clear my throat as I sit forward and try to hide the obscene outline of my cock in my jeans. “The color is beautiful.” I try to keep my comments brief because I want to scream at her to take it off and never let the light of day touch that dress, but I can’t dim the smile on her lips. I can’t be the one to take away the light in her eyes as she faces the mirror and turns.
“It is, but the shape is all wrong,” Claire says, and I want to pay her double and kick her out at the same time.
Pippa narrows her eyes at the dress and then cocks her head to the side. “You think so?”
“We need to show off your figure down below.” Claire winks and motions for her to move back behind the screen. “You’ve got an incredible shape, and we don’t want to lose that.”
I’ve spent hours of my life getting to know Pippa’s shape, and I don’t need a dress to tell me where her lines begin and end. But once again I bite my tongue and try to breathe.
“For this dress you won’t need the slip. Just put on the silk thong and garters,” Claire calls out. “If you need help attaching them let me know.”
My heart stops dead in my chest as I lean forward and put my face in my hands. I’m not going to survive this. My beauty in silk and garters? The fantasy of her in that almost brings me to my knees.
After a moment of indulging in the dream of undoing her garters with my teeth I sit back in my seat and grab a pillow off the chair next to me and put it in my lap. There’s no other way to hide this monster trying to burst through my denim.
This time when Pippa walks out from behind the screen she’s in a deep green dress the color of evergreens in the winter. The material goes over one shoulder and clings to her body all the way down and then flares out at her knees. When she turns around to face the mirror, I see that it’s completely backless all the way down to the top of her ass. If she bent over, the dress might burst in two, giving me a view of her tiny thong.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Claire coos, walking around Pippa.
“Really?” I look up to see Pippa’s brows furrowed as she looks down at herself and smooths out the dress.
“It’s not the one,” I say gently, and Pippa looks in the mirror and finds my eyes in the reflection. She smiles softly and then nods a little.
“I don’t think so either.” Her smile grows in approval as she walks back behind the screen again and I’m left sitting here like I’ve been run over by a tank.
Having her look at me like that while I’ve made her happy is almost too much. It’s like a drug and suddenly I want another hit of that. I want to do something else to make her happy and have her tell me what I’ve done was right.
“For this next dress you won’t need undergarments. It’s made to your measurements and I don’t want to disrupt the fabric.”
Claire grabs the dress off the hanger and passes it to Pippa. Meanwhile my world has just been hit by a nuclear explosion at the thought of her naked under her dress.
When Pippa walks out she doesn’t go to the mirror right away. Instead she takes a few steps closer to me and waits for me to tell her what I think. The dress is the color of dark raspberries and has fragile lace that scoops over her breasts and down her body. It’s molded to her figure like it was indeed made for her. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. It’s delicate and soft just like her curves, and the way she’s looking at me right now, it’s like she’s begging me to let her have it.
“She’ll have it,” I say simply and feel the power of her once again as she smiles.
Chapter 8
Pippa
I take another bite of my steak as I watch Timber angrily cut into his own out of the corner of my eye. It’s hard to smile and chew at the same time but he has this effect on me and he’s not doing it on purpose. I don’t know why I find his grumpiness so adorable but it does something to my insides. The more he bristles, the more I want to get closer and that’s not good. I’m not trying to chase after him, but when I find myself seeking him out he’s never far away.
“I don’t think you need a knife.” I take another bite. The meat is so tender you can cut it with your fork, and chef Celia is worth her weight in gold. I have no idea what it costs to have a chef on staff but damn that woman can cook. I’ve probably gained a good five pounds since I moved in but I don’t care. Every bite is worth it and I know I’m never eating this good again.
“I know how to eat,” he grumbles.
I think he wants to sound angry but the words come out like he’s frustrated. Everyone else has this weird fear of Timber and they all jump when he barks or says something. I just smile and shake my head at him. How can anyone be scared of him? He’s this giant bear that I’ve been having one too many dirty dreams about. I’m in full-blown crush mode and I don’t think he has any idea.
He demands we eat every meal together but I’m the one who rattles on with conversation. I barely get anything out of him and he knows almost everything about me. He sits and listens and will randomly ask a question. When I get one it feels like a small victory. God, that sounds so pathetic when I think about it.
“Yes, I agree. You know how to show that steak who’s boss.” I laugh. “At the party you might not want to stab your food. You might scare the guests.”
He stops sawing at his steak to look up at me. It’s the first time he’s looked at me since I sat down at the table with him tonight. Something is off and it feels a little awkward now. Our eyes lock and I see that same look he got when I came out in the last dress. The one he decided was the right choice. My breath catches and I will him to say something.