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Still, his presence excites and unnerves me. He seems to think whoever was behind taking me has the resources to track us. He’s not taking any chances, and I feel completely protected and safe with him. At least safe from being taken again.
Emotionally? Not so much.
I select the setting powder in my shade, debating on getting a lip color and eye shadow. I decide a tinted lip balm is bare minimum, choosing a muted rose pink I know won’t clash with my hair color.
The last thing I feel like I can’t live without for another day is a bra that fits. I’m sure Walmart’s selection won’t have my size because I usually have to special order them online. Either way, a sports bra would be better than nothing. I drop the makeup into the basket he’s carrying before making my way toward women’s intimates. Holden trails a few steps behind me.
“There is a guy I could reach out to. He knew him, did some contract work. I might be able to get a call with him, but it’ll be recorded.”
My fingers reach out to trace over a pair of cheeky black underwear made of lace.
Walmart has stepped up their intimates game.
Just to see his reaction, I select a pair in my size and toss them into the basket. His eyes follow the movement before flicking back up to meet mine.
Onyx is my new favorite color.
His eyes darken to the shade I now know indicates that he’s picturing me in a compromising position. I’ve seen that same look on his face so many times now, and I always thought it was a hate glare.
I’ve realized now that it’s an eye-fucking.
The veins in his hand pop out as he grips the basket harder, following me deeper into the aisle. To my shock and delight, there’s a size 32F in a plain black bra with a tiny strip of lace trim around the top of the cups. I reach for it, holding it up to my chest. It’ll be a snug fit, but it’ll do. I toss it into the basket.
“Warner should know how to handle it,” he growls, snapping the phone shut.
I purse my lips together, trying not to smile. I brush past him, intentionally letting my shoulder touch his as I pass.
He loops his arm around my waist, hauling my body toward him and pressing his lips up to my ear. “Don’t you need to try it on?”
I scrunch my toes, letting the tingles run over the surface of my skin as I curl my hand around his forearm. “Hmm, I guess I should.”
He lets go, reaching down to grip my wrist and guide me toward the dressing room nearby. No one seems to be monitoring it, but one of the doors is cracked open. He pushes it all the way open, inspecting the tiny space clearly meant for just one person. I walk through, expecting him to hand me the clothes and wait.
He doesn’t. Instead, he comes inside with me and locks the door behind him. I turn around in the cramped space, which is less than four by four feet.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to come inside with me. This is the ladies’.”
“Do you want me to leave?” He reaches inside the basket, handing me the bra and panties.
I don’t answer him, grabbing the items and lifting my chin with faux defiance as my cheeks heat. “Turn around.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth under his lips as he sets the basket down on the ground and pivots, turning his broad back to me. He’s a full foot taller than my five-foot-three frame, and it makes me feel even tinier in the cramped space. I quickly pull off the white tank top and too-small bra. My nipples pucker in the chilled air, his nearness heating my core.
If he turned around right now, he’d see me topless.
I shiver before unhooking the latch on the bra, wrapping it around my waist and fastening it around myself. I pull it up over my chest. My breasts spill out of the top a bit more than I’m comfortable with, but it’ll do.
I look hot.
I never try panties on in the store, but since I plan to purchase these and I want Holden to see them on me, I do it anyway. I kick off my shoes and pull my leggings down before sliding the silky lace up over my hips. My body tilts away from him so I can survey my reflection in the mirror.
I try to imagine myself from his eyes, how he’ll see me. The dip in my waist and the spill of my cleavage are sexy, but the bruise on my side is distracting. He might be even more wary of touching me after he sees it. It might bring back the rage in his eyes that I saw when he killed Jed.
I shift my feet nervously, clasping my hands in front of myself. “Okay.”
His shoulders shift, the brim of his cowboy hat tilting with the movement. He exhales, eyes meeting mine before leisurely drifting over my body. I’m raw and exposed, nearly naked while he’s still fully dressed.
It jerks me back to the night in the barn years ago, when he was in a compromising state, but even then, I felt like the prey.
