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Late Call (Call #1) Page 54
Author: Emma Hart

“Now who’s being a smartass?” I knock his hand from my cheek. “You know how I feel about this.”

“About what?”

“You spending money on me. I can buy my own stuff.”

He leans in, putting his mouth close to my ear. “And I can get myself off, but that doesn’t mean I should.”

“Nothing alike.” I narrow my eyes. “I don’t want you to buy me stuff.”

“Who said I was buying you something?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Aaron.”

He sighs and cups my face. “Indulge me, Dayton. If I want to spend my money on you, then please let me.”

“Please again.” I turn my face into his hand and kiss his palm. “I don’t have to like it, do I?”

He brings my mouth to his. “I’d like it if you enjoyed it a little.”

“Okay.” I brush a kiss to his lips. “But this is me being amicable with a lot of mad.”

“You’re going to let me spend money on you?”

“God, I’ll regret this, but yes.”

“And you won’t look at the prices.”

“Hey, now.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

My mouth twists. “I won’t look at the prices.”

His eyes light up as the words leave my mouth, and it’s that that makes me realize how important this is to him. How much he wants to spoil me and shower me with the expensive things hiding behind the glass windows that surround us.

So I allow him to drag me from store to store, and I let the sales girls tug me from rail to rail. I find myself in endless fitting rooms surrounded by expensive, well-made clothes, trying each outfit on and adding them to piles.

Yes. No. Maybe.

And I keep my word. I don’t look at the prices. Somehow.

Until we’re standing in Alaia and the dark-eyed girl hands me a red, figure-hugging dress that flares to the floor halfway down the thigh. The lace that wraps around the waist, snaking up to the bust, leaves me with no doubt that Aaron picked this.

It’s red and it’s lace, after all.

“How much is this?” I demand quietly, pulling my gaze from the garment.

“Scusate, signora,” she replies softly. “Signor Stone requested you not see the price.”

“Of course.” I take a deep breath. “What if I try it on? Will you tell me?”

She hesitates.

“He said I couldn’t see the price. Not that I couldn’t hear it.” Sneaky, underhanded Dayton…

She briskly nods once and swiftly pulls the door closed behind her. I remove the cream dress and hang it back up before turning my attention to the red vision in front of me. I have no idea how to squeeze my ass into it—or even where I’ll wear it. Nope. No idea.

Still, I shimmy and shake until it’s hugging my curves. The zipper at my side slides up easily, and I flick my hair back from my face and look in the mirror.

Oh.

Oh, f**k.

Every woman has a dress—just like they have a wedding dress—where it’s it. It’s the real shebang. This dress is that for me. It’s my dress. Made for me, almost.

The sales girl knocks before entering the room. Her eyes widen as soon as she looks at me, and she covers her mouth with her hand. She nods repeatedly.

“Si, si! Bella!” She clasps her hands in front of her stomach.

“Thank you.” I smooth the material at my hip. “And the price?”

She reels off a number without picking up the tag, and I balk. What? Did I hear that right?

On a dress?

You f**king what?

“Are you kidding me?” I cry at Aaron, storming from the dressing room. “Really? Forty thousand fu—freaking dollars on a dress?”

He turns to face me so slowly that I see his expression transform. His lips part as his gaze runs down my body, eating me alive in the middle of this store. I feel every brush of his eyes across me as if he’s touching me. It’s so real, so intense, so desperately filled with awe, and my body heats despite the incredulous feeling flowing through it.

Those blue eyes filled with heat and amazement and never-ending tenderness find mine. “Bag everything on the ‘yes’ pile, and when Miss Black is changed, add this one too.”

“You are not buying this dress!” I protest as the girls on the floor all nod. They pause at my words.

“Non-negotiable,” he throws back.

“Aaron!”

His eyes harden briefly. “Non-negotiable.”

My chest heaves with my sharp breath. He’s not budging. I don’t want to argue, but I don’t want to give in either. This…whatever this is between us is the most infuriating and challenging thing ever.

If you don’t count trying not to fall in love with Aaron Stone.

“Fine.” The word leaves me between gritted teeth. “Fine.”

I reenter the dressing room and peel the dress off with more calm than I feel. A lot amicable and a little mad? A whole lot f**king mad is more like it. He just can’t help himself. He just can’t not piss me the hell off.

I stand by idly as he hands over his card without blinking. Forty thousand on a dress? No problem. He may as well have bought me a car for that.

I’d probably be less annoyed at that. At least that would get used regularly.

It’s not like this dress is fit for a run to Whole Foods, for the love of f**king God!

“So much for amicable.” Aaron grabs my hand and swings me into him when we leave the Rectangle of Gold.

“I was perfectly amicable until you pushed it. In fact, I was a f**king delight, complete with icing and a cherry on top.”

“That mouth will get you into trouble one day.”

“I’m lucky I’ve gone this long.”

He leans his face in, and his eyes search mine. “Just make sure it doesn’t get you in trouble with me.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?”

“Don’t go giving me ideas, Dayton,” he says into my ear, his hot breath crawling across my neck. “The thought of the sound of my hand across your obstinate, tight little ass is far too tempting right now.”

I lick my lips. I didn’t expect him to say that, and my desire agrees. The thought of it is tempting. Very tempting.

“You only get to do that when you f**k me.”

His lips curl against my skin. “Then isn’t a great big f**king shame I plan on making love to you tonight?”

I pull back. “You told me the first time we had sex here would be making love. We already did that.”

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