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“You’re gonna need to try those on before you can make an informed decision.”
She bites her lip in that addictive way she does when she’s unsure of herself. “Um, yeah, is that okay? You can go grab a coffee or something, I know you're probably bored–”
“Nonsense,” I cut her off. “This was my idea, wasn’t it? Go on, I'll be your captive audience.”
Relief washes over her soft features as she grins up at me before disappearing into the nearest changing room. I settle into a chair, preparing myself for what's sure to be an interesting show.
The first few terrible costumes are met with good-natured laughter and teasing critiques. Shiloh twirls in each one, her initial coyness melting away as she gets into the spirit of things. I’m nothing short of stunned to find I’m actually enjoying myself.
“Alright, this one could actually be a contender!” she calls out, eventually stepping from behind the curtain in a sleek, black catsuit.
My eyes rake hungrily over her form, appreciating how the fabric clings to her every curve. “Not bad,” I manage, my mouth suddenly dry. “But the black cat thing has been done to death. Chuck it in the ‘maybe’ pile.”
She nods, a knowing look crossing her face before she ducks back into the changing room. I shift in my seat a little, trying to ignore the semi that leapt up at the sight of her in lycra.
“Okay,” Shiloh's voice wavers slightly a few minutes later. “I'm not sure about this one, but it’s uh...on theme, I guess.”
The curtain parts again, and suddenly I can't breathe.
She steps out in a black corseted gown, the silk hugging her waist before tumbling to the floor in a ripple of liquid night. But it's the back–or lack thereof–that has me transfixed. The bust is laced with ribbons that crisscross her spine, leaving a tantalizing expanse of soft, pale skin exposed.
I stand abruptly, unable to resist the urge to get a closer look. Shiloh shifts under my intense gaze, a deep blush blooming across her cheeks and down her neck.
“Well?” she asks nervously. “What do you think? Is it too much?”
I struggle to form any coherent words, my throat tight with a primal hunger I can barely contain. The woman that stands before me is a seductive vision, such a far cry from her usual knitted sweaters and oversized shirts that I'm struck dumb by the sight.
“Uh, Dom?” she prompts, her voice hushed and uncertain. “It’s not veryme,is it?”
I clear my throat, wrestling my brain to function. “It's...perfect,” I finally manage, the compliment coming out rougher than I intended. “That’s the one. We're getting it.”
Shiloh glances back at the mirror behind her, brow furrowed. “But...it's maybe a little too much for me…”
"Nope," I say, perhaps a little too sharply. I soften my tone, reaching for her chin until I can pull her face back to look at me. “It's perfect, Shy. You look incredible. I’m not letting you choose anything else.”
She presses her lips together, that familiar war going on behind her eyes. She’s fighting the natural instinct to fight me, to try to reclaim some semblance of autonomy. But I know the look too well, and know she loves it when I put my foot down. Finally, Shiloh nods, a sheepish smile smoothing away the lingering doubt. “Alright, fine. You win.”
I usher her back into the changing room with a smug grin of my own, needing a moment to remind myself that we’re in public and I can’t just fuck her over the nearest surface. When she emerges in her regular clothes, gown in hand, I'm only a fraction more composed.
I can’t be sure how long that will last.
At the register, I hand over my credit card without hesitation, ignoring Shiloh's weak protests about the extortionate price. Some things are worth every damn penny.
When we step back out onto the street, the crisp autumn air is a welcome respite from the stuffiness inside–and from the hot blood pumping through my body and straight to my crotch. Shiloh turns to me, clutching the garment bag to her chest like a precious relic.
“Dom, I...I don't know what to say,” she mumbles, her eyes shining with naked gratitude. “Thank you so much for this. For today. For everything. I don’t get it, I don’t really understand why you’re doing all this, why you’re even still in town. But…just, thank you.”
The raw confession breaks the last thread of my self-control. I step closer, cupping her warm face in both my hands.
“I’m here because I want to be here. No evil games, Shy, I swear.” I stroke my thumbs over her cheekbones, praying she sees the sincerity in my eyes.
Before she can respond, I close the last of the torturous distance between us, capturing her lips with mine. For a heartbeat, Shiloh freezes, and I fear she’s about to shove meaway all over again. But then she melts against me, her free hand winding around my neck as she returns the kiss with equal fervor.
The world falls away, narrowing to just this moment, justus. The taste of her, the soft sounds she makes as I sweep my tongue over hers, and the way her body molds itself to mine–I can’t get enough. My hands slide back into her hair, my fingers scraping against her scalp as I grasp her like I’m terrified she might suddenly evaporate.
But then a loud gasp behind me shatters the moment.
We spring apart, both panting heavily. I turn towards the sound, ready to snap at whatever nosy bystander needs to mind their own fucking business.
