“Oh, my God, you look like a Barbie doll!” she says cheerfully.
“You do too. Like a very extravagant, desirable, lethal doll.”
“I know right? This dress is my ticket to get married.”
I laugh with force because the last thing in Paris’ mind is to settle down. She’s a love ’em and leave ’em kinda girl.
“Come here!” She flashes her phone in my face and opens her arm.” Let me take that picture so I can send it to mom. She’ll definitely cry when she sees us.”
Probably. Aunt Jacqueline is a very sentimental person and she has always pushed me and Paris together. One of the few regrets she has is that she and papa found happiness so far apart. Every night I get a call from her telling me again and again how happy she is because I decided to come and live with my cousin. It was an easy decision, really, between an empty house and a warm home.
My cousin pulls me into a tight hug and snaps some shots in the floor to ceiling mirror whispering, ” twinsies” every time the camera goes off. Dieu, I love this freak madly.
“Ok, I’m gonna go find us some shoes. Do not let this dress out of your sight, London, we’re buying it.”
She slips out into the store like a goddess with the black train floating behind her. Only Paris could wander around in a nine-hundred-dollar dress like it’s no one’s business. I really don ’t wanna pay for this dress . I could but I don ’t want to. It’s a very unnecessary expense.
I walk closer to the mirror to look at it again. It’s still amazing, even at second inspection. It makes my breasts look bigger; my hips narrower. I’d love to have a reason to wear it but...what?
Looking up I find Dr. Ford’s piercing green eyes staring into mine in the mirror. My body goes senseless under his bold watch, like I was there for him to look at. Like he had a right to look.
He doesn’t move and neither do I. I don’t think we even breathe, and I’m starting to think he’s just a ghost born out of my eagerness for him.
A petite blonde dressed in the store uniform stands in the door frame of the fitting area smiling.
“Mr. Ford, I found a fit for the Prada suit. Would you like to try it on, sir?”
“Yes, put it with the rest and I’ll be there in a minute,” he says, but his eyes don’t leave me for a second.
The woman looks at him, then at me, bewildered, but she steps back as the good girl looking for a commission she is, leaving me alone with my predator. That’s how he studies me, like I’m prey and somehow this makes me feel warm in all the right spots.
“Dr. Ford...”
He doesn’t answer me but instead walks until he’s behind me, only a thin sheet of air parting my back from his broad chest.
I’m incapable of doing much more than watching in the mirror at how his body is towering over mine.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a gown type of girl.”
“There’s life beyond scrubs, Dr. Ford.”
“I see.”
His words get lost in the room as soon as his hand reaches my waist, and instant liquefied fire rushes through my veins. How can someone that I dislike with so much passion makes me feel this way? How is that possible? Every time his hands aren’t on me, he makes me feel small, like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe.
So why do I allow myself to feel all this? I don’t have a choice, that’s how. Dr. Ford gives me one look and I’m turning into a puddle of mush on the floor. Like right now.
“You look ravishing in this, Rome, like the most sophisticated woman.” His palm slides down my body, wandering from my hip to the bare skin of my leg. I ignite when we come in direct contact, and in a moment of weakness, I lean on his strong body closing my eyes, taking a moment to feel his velvety touch. “Like the most expensive mistress.”
His words cut. I don’t know if they were meant to be a compliment, but he has accused me of whoring myself before. Just two days ago when he took my mouth in his possession and then disappeared.
“You like that.” It was not a question. And he is not wrong.
Encouraged by my actions, Ford goes further down my leg, exploring the inside of my thigh, going up, and stopping just under my bikini line to grip my flesh. This sends me over the edge. Something in his intrusion made me spark back to life and crave more.
“Kiss me.” I say clutching his hand with my legs.
“What?”
Enough teasing, doctor, it is time for some medicine.
I turn and jump him - and I mean jump - to take over and get what I know I need. He catches me, putting his hands on my ass to lift me. It would seem this is our favorite position.
Not waiting anymore, I kiss him with all the hunger and frustration I have in me. It’s toxic and so damn good, a million shivers going through my body at the same time.
Growling in my mouth, Ford pushes open one of the doors of a changing cabin, steps inside, and sits on the plush stool with me in his lap. His body feels like it was custom made to fit between my legs. Just like the dress, we fit. It’s a shame we’re gonna wrinkle this beautiful article of clothing.
“Damn, woman.” For a second, he stops to catch his breath then starts to feel my neck with his lips making me moan in pleasure.
I hitch my fingers into his biceps trying to anchor myself somehow in this moment and in the way he makes me bloom in my passion. With one strong arm Ford presses on my lower back to make me come closer, sliding on his...thing - very prominent thing - while he licks the upper side of my breast. Caught in the fervor, I can’t stop moving my hips, feeling his member through his pants and my panties.
“Oh, Lord...Je n’en peux plus.” I can’t take it anymore.
“Don’t. Don’t speak French or I’m gonna make a mess out of you right here.” His voice is low and threatening but this only makes me want it more.
“Je veux tout ce que tu as à doner. Prendre mon corps!” I want all you have to offer. Take my body.
He doesn’t understand French so I can sing my desire without giving him the power. Saying the things that have chased my mind since our last kiss. This should make him lose it but instead, I’m the one ready to shudder into a million pieces and he knows it.
“You are so close, London. I need to see. I need it so give it to me.”
London. Never in my life would I have believed my own name is the thing I wanted to hear the most from a guy.
With expert touches, Ford’s fingers find my core and draw circles through my drenched panties, and three seconds later there I am, shaking and crying. I think I said his name, but I don’t know for sure because the wave of pleasure wipes my rationality for a moment.
“Let it out, I’ll take care of you.” And I do as he says. I let it all out until I’m lifeless in his arms, trying to regulate my breathing and feeling like I just ran the Boston Marathon.
“London, where are you?” Paris’ voice brings me back to life like paddles at 350 were discharged on my chest.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I say jolting to my feet. “We’re in a store.”
“I know.”
“In a very open, full of people, store.”
“Aha.” He is nowhere near as interested as I am.
“I have to...we have...”
Slowly he gets up and adjusts his erection to be less visible then arranges my cleavage to fit my breasts again. After a quick inspection, he nods in approval, proud of his damage.