I giggle as Jake finally releases me from his arms in the changing cubicle, shaking my head at him in
disbelief. My face must match the color of the dress I’m trying to retrieve from the floor. His eyes dark
and wicked, buttoning up his shirt with a huge grin on his face as I try my hardest to get dressed
without being knocked into the narrow walls, it’s so cramped in here.
I can’t believe he managed to get me naked and have sex without knocking the feeble walls down.
“Was this your plan from the word go? Claiming to need me in the changing room to admire your shirt
choices.” I dart up at him while trying to get my bra straps on untwisted, he drops his shirt and instead
straightens the strap on my shoulder, reaching behind me to help straighten it. He answers with a
wolfish grin, dimples on display.
Why am I even surprised by this? I should have known the second his hand ran under my skirt as we
walked to the changing area.
He’s close enough that I can practically lick his pecks without moving my head, the smell of him
intoxicating, as always. It’s insane how good he always smells. I am trying to keep quiet, knowing that
the busy shop out front is probably aware what the young couple has been up to, seeing it’s taken
almost forty minutes in the farthest dressing room from the front to try on two shirts.
We tried to stifle the giggles and then the moans. Jake is incorrigible, only he could seduce all reason
out of me and have me doing things in a boutique like this. He leans down and catches me in another
passionate kiss, stilling me for a second, unable to ever refuse him.
“They won’t care as long as I spend copious amounts of money before we leave.” He winks, returning
to doing up his shirt. He turns his attention to his jeans, adjusting things before buttoning them up too.
He’s effortlessly back to normal, not hard when you always look casual and slightly ruffled anyway.
On the other hand, I’m flushed, my hair probably wild and my dress has been crushed to death and
wrinkled beyond repair as we have trampled on it a lot. I manage to step into the dress, holding it with
an extended arm, the other hand against Jake’s torso for stability and pull it up finally. Jake turns me to
zip it up, presses his mouth against the back of my shoulder before helping me slide my cardigan back
on. We kept our shoes on as bending down in here is almost impossible and I look around for my lacy
panties and don’t see them anywhere. I frown, lifting first one foot then the other before noticing him
watching me with the hint of a smile across his face.
“They’re in my back pocket.” He grins with a raised eyebrow, the look of wickedness returning.
“Why and how?” I laugh. I didn’t even see him retrieve them.
“Because that’s where I put them when I got them off you and that’s where they’re staying until we get
home … Maybe even after I go to LA.” He grins as I cross my arms and give him my best PA Emma
look that means ‘I don’t think so’. He just turns, ruffling my hair, and opens the door before striding out.
I follow him, instantly annoyed
He is being serious? I can’t walk around in a short dress without underwear …
I follow him, attempting a grab at his back pocket but his hand comes around catching my wrist and
pulls me forward.
“There they stay.” He commands with that glint of commander and chief, I furrow my brows and try my
best angry glare, but it only amuses him more. “You’re unbelievably sexy like this.” He whispers
pressing his mouth to mine, still smiling through his kiss.
“Why would you want to leave me panty-less while walking the streets of windy New York in a very
floaty dress?” I grind out through gritted teeth, he stays close, his voice low, his hand coming to trace
my lip seductively
“Because it’s all I’ll think about when we’re walking out there, and it will make me want to fuck you ten
times more.”
“Like you need any encouragement.” I raise a brow, pushing a kiss on him then walk away. If he wants
to play games then fine, he’ll regret this one. Jake likes his little sexual games, he likes teasing me to
death, likes to have little internal jokes.
Maybe I should start learning to do the same.
I walk into the shop, trying to push down my embarrassment as several women stop and glance at us
departing from the changing area with knowing looks. He brought me in here because he wanted some
new shirts, which he’s left lying in that changing room. Half the shop sells women’s clothes, so I stroll
over casually, as though I’m browsing. I wait until I know he’s followed me then I bend just enough to a
lower rail so that my dress rides up dangerously close to my ass. I slowly straighten catching him
watching, his hands move to his pockets as though he is about to surrender my underwear, then
doesn’t. He leans back against the pillar he’s standing in front of, the look of amusement on his face
spreading.
Hmmm, so he wants to enjoy the show, does he? He thinks he knows what I’m doing.
I know his desire to protect my modesty will kick in and he’ll give me back my underwear. I walk around
a tier of shelves with underwear laid out and bend lower this time to look at the bottom row of lace
things, my dress rides up and slides slightly, exposing a lot of thigh. Even for me it feels dangerously
close to revealing my secret parts, the air odd against the exposed parts of me under the dress, but I
give nothing away. I hear him inhale heavily despite being far away from me as my dress skims
dangerously close.
I spy a rail on the wall with some corset style Basques and reach up to get one down, the motion of
stretching lifts my dress high, not enough to expose me fully but enough thigh and long legs to get Jake
to push off the wall and walk over behind me. I wait, sure I’ve won this little battle of the sexes and he
regrets leaving my panty-less. But he just lifts down the one behind it and hands it to me instead, his
body brushing against me from behind and a warm hand flicking across the thigh just under the curve
of my naked ass.
“I prefer black.” He smiles taking the harlot red and putting it back. I smile haughtily and turn away from
him throwing it over my shoulder.
Fine, maybe he needs a new kind of message thrown his way.
I move over to a whole wall of sexy lingerie and stand as though I’m trying to decide, I pick up several
pairs of boring panties in every color from the shelf below and throw him a defiant look. He suppresses
a grin, still watching where I go and what I do.
I’ve no idea anymore … It’s like trying to win over a master of his craft and I’m failing.
I decide I’ll just buy all the panties, the most unattractive ugly, full butt-covering, practical ones I can
find and then I’ll go straight to the dressing room and put all five pairs on just to annoy him.
And, yes, I’ll choose every color minus black.
I throw him a rebellious look and drop the corset on the pile of knickers as though it disgusts me. He
narrows his eyes at me, as though he’s thinking, then he turns to the nearest assistant and loudly says,
“Can you help my girlfriend pick some new underwear out … Preferably black and fuckable as I ripped
hers off and she’s currently going commando.” He grins and throws me a triumphant look as every face
in the shop snaps around to stare first at him, then me. Gob smacked. My face turns puce and I spin
away completely mortified. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw what I’m holding at him and
storm out. I’m frozen to the spot.
“Ummm, sure … Yes.” The girl stammers, and I’m not so sure if it’s because of his statement or if it’s
him as she turns every shade of pink there is and hurries to my side. I throw him a glare as she comes
over, fussing and taking the pants from me. She looks at the ones I’ve chosen with surprise and looks
to him as though needing his permission. He shakes his head and she puts them all back down.
How the hell did this turn into a lingerie buying trip? One where he gets to dictate what I pick out? He’s
turning this to his advantage again.
“Actually, I don’t need underwear,” I snort loudly, stubborn Emma kicking in. “I like the feeling of not
wearing any.” I remark and walk past her, then him, with my chin in the air. I stop at a rail of all in one
cat suits and glare at him pointedly. “Maybe I’ll start dressing in such ways that my panties are
inaccessible after this.” I pout before walking out of the shop, his smirk following me before he even
attempts to.
He’s fast to catch up, trying to grab for my hand but I pull it away, keeping my face turned so he can’t
tell if I’m mad or not. I know I should be but somehow, I’m not. I feel strangely powerful.
I should torture him this way as I know it’s one way I’ll win … He may be the dark lord of sexual
prowess, but I know how to shut him out, close down on him so he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, and
I know he hates that more than anything.
“You mad at me, bambino?” He soothes but I catch the laughter in his voice.
So, he thinks he’s funny?
“I’m perfectly fine,” I snap coldly, keeping my gaze averted as I walk fast, trying to stay in front of him.
“You’re sexy when you’re pissed.” He breathes into my ear, my skin tingles in anticipation but I steel it
back, keeping my cool. Old Emma effortlessly moving in.
“I’m not pissed … I’m not anything,” I utter matter of factly, all emotion devoid in my tone of voice. He
catches my hand again; this time keeping a hold and hauls me back around to him. I don’t look at him
but down at our hands, keeping my face still, blank, and expressionless.
“Now are you mad because I stole these?” He holds up the black lace that he’s retrieved from his back
pocket and currently letting half the sidewalk see. “Or because I announced it to a shop full of uptight
women that I fucked you and left you without them?” He grins at me, nothing in his face saying he’s
even minorly bothered that I may be in a bad mood right now. It only annoys me more. His normally
clear green eyes look very dark, his pupils have enlarged crazily even in the brightness of the day. I
push them aside as though it doesn’t bother me that he’s holding them for all to see, I act like I don’t
even want them and instead shrug.
“I’m not annoyed in the slightest … I happen to like this … Isn’t the first time I’ve gone panty-less for a
man.” I smirk as his expression drops completely. That little flicker of doubt, and suddenly he’s the one
looking pissed. Luckily, he’s no memory of the fact he was also the one who made me that way, the
night he first took me home after the dance and shredded my underwear in the back of his limo and
then the night he got me on his car bonnet then dumped me home. I turn to move away but he hauls
me back a little aggressively, anger searing across his face.
“When? With who?” he yells at me, completely losing his cool. I suppress the smile forming on my lips,
lifting my chin defiantly.
He likes reactions, now I see why.
“Shouldn’t start games if you can’t handle them.” I smirk, attempting to pull myself free again but his
rage only heightens, pulling me hard into his chest so that I catch my breath. “Thought you weren’t the
jealous type?” I retort. the heat emitting from him doubles in ferocity, he’s raging, aggression peaking
inside but it only makes me feel a little bit empowered. Serves him right. He started this and when I tell
him it was him it will end this little mood of his. So, for now I’m dishing it back at him and enjoying the
rare upper hand.
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