Somewhere inside of her, a heavy brick had been moved. A weight had been shifted. Her heart was no longer pinned down and foolishly handed over to someone who didn’t care for all she had to give. It felt like hers again. And she could do with it what she wanted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Peaches and Lace
The words dissolved on his tongue the second he saw her.
Page Six and the snarky comments were erased from his brain when he spotted her walking up Madison, big sunglasses over her eyes, a few strands of her brown hair whipping across her cheek from the late afternoon breeze. She moved her hand to brush them away, and the sight of her was breathtaking. She wasn’t wearing a sexy outfit like yesterday at his office, when she’d arrived in heels, a pencil skirt, and a tight shirt. No, today she simply wore jeans, and a short-sleeved shirt, but she stunned him nonetheless. Everyone around him could have vanished—she was all he saw.
Walking toward him.
Waving.
Smiling.
Happy.
God, he didn’t want to let her down.
He didn’t want to let her go. He was a selfish bastard for wanting to keep her even when he could never give her what she deserved.
She stopped outside the store, her hand reaching toward him, fingering a bit of fabric from his pullover shirt. “Is this what you wore today?”
He eyed her curiously. “Yeah. It’s not only what I wore, it’s also what I’m wearing.”
“It’s what I pictured you in,” she said, her lips curving up.
“You were thinking of me?” he asked, and his heart thumped harder.
“Yes,” she said, nodding to the lingerie store where they’d met up. “Now buy me some panties to replace the ones you ruined yesterday.”
Just hearing the word panties on her lips made him hard. He growled and tugged her in for a quick, searing kiss, her lips parting, her mouth opening as he made contact. He’d never tire of the way she responded to him. Then it hit him. Never. Why the hell was he thinking in absolutes?
He broke the kiss, clasped her hand, and led her into the store. Hetty’s Secret Closet was a high-end lingerie store he’d walked past yesterday. Once inside, Manhattan disappeared, and they were in a pink and white boutique surrounded by silks, satins, and chiffons, by reds, blacks and peaches, and by a lavender scent that was overwhelmingly feminine. Soft music that sounded like Sade or some other sexy songstress piped overhead, and the air-conditioning hummed low, keeping the store cool, not too chilly.
Michelle perused the racks of camisoles, casting sexy eyes at him as she held up different items. He clenched his fists so he wouldn’t pounce on her. He wanted her so much.
A saleswoman walked across the carpet, her steps so soft it was as if she was gliding. She was young, blond and pretty, and he didn’t give a shit how she looked, because his arm was around Michelle’s waist, and she was the only woman he wanted to see in a bra and panties, and out of a bra and panties.
“May I help you find something?” the saleswoman asked.
He didn’t look away from Michelle as he answered. “I want something for this stunning woman I can’t take my eyes off of,” he said, and watched as a red flush spread across Michelle’s cheeks.
“Jack,” she whispered.
“It’s true.”
“A cami? A teddy? A lingerie set?”
“The last one,” Jack said.
“Any particular color?”
He flashed back to the black pair he’d sliced off. The color truly didn’t matter. He wanted to devour her in any color. He wanted to lick her from head to toe, to eat her, to taste every inch of her, whether she wore stripes or polka dots or solids.
“Anything,” he said.
Soon, the saleswoman had selected a white demi-cup bra with matching panties, as well as one in peach, and one in dark blue.
“If you’d like to wait by the dressing rooms, we have a very comfortable chair outside them,” the saleswoman said as she guided them to the back of the store. She unlocked one of the two rooms, holding open the beige scalloped door, and hanging the items on a hook. There was a full-length mirror in a gilded frame on the wall. “I’ll check back in a few minutes and see if you need anything,” she said, and then returned to the front of the boutique.
“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how it looks. Be a good boy and sit and wait,” Michelle said, gesturing to the chair before she shut the door.
“Waiting is hard,” he said in a low voice as he sank down into the soft cushiony chair.
“I bet it’s hard,” he heard her say from the dressing room, and she was so right. His dick was like steel, knocking against his fly, eager to be freed. He ached with wanting her; his mouth watered as he imagined her skimming off her jeans, tugging off her top, sliding on the lacy underthings.
He drew a deep breath, his lungs burning with desire for her.
The door creaked, and she peeked out. “Come see,” she whispered, and in an instant, he was standing, walking, stepping into the tiny dressing room with a cushioned stool in the corner. She was hidden behind the door, and when she shut it, closing them into the small space, his heart tripped over itself.
She was so fucking beautiful. Peach lace hugged her curves, the tops of those luscious breasts luring him in like beacons of desire. He wanted to look everywhere at once, to touch all of her, to slam her against the wall and take her.
To savor her.
His eyes roamed her, landing on the underwear. A small section of white peeked out on the side. She must have left on a thong as she tried on the peach panties. “I had a feeling I’d be getting wet, so I left these on,” she said, tugging at the side.
“Are you? Wet?”
She nodded as she licked her lips. “I am. With the way you look at me.”
“I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered, moving closer, running a hand down her bare arm, feeling goose bumps rise on her flesh. She gasped as he touched her. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
She shook her head as his fingers made their way to the soft flesh of her belly.
“You’re so gorgeous. So stunning. I couldn’t stop thinking of you today.”
“What were you thinking?” she asked, her breath shallow as his hands moved down to her legs, mapping her thighs, both soft and strong.
“Everything. How much I love being with you. How beautiful you are. How much I’m looking forward to taking you to the symphony. Your ass. Your tits. Your belly. Your lips. How much I missed you, even though I knew I’d see you soon,” he whispered, as he dropped down to his knees. “I find myself looking forward to the time with you and then missing you when you’re not here.”