Page 46 of Darkest Kiss

"Because if you put your hands on my cock right now, I'm going to fuck you. I don’t think we’re ready for that yet."

"We're not?"

"No." He hesitates. “I want you, Noemi. Can’t think of anything else when I touch you. But… we need to go slow.”

I want to argue. My body is still buzzing and the feel of him hard against me is making my brain short-circuit. But he's right, even if I don't want to admit it. My hands are still trembling from the orgasm and from something else, something that sits deeper in my chest that I can't name yet.

I nod. "Okay. But for the record, I don't think you're as patient as you pretend to be."

He chuckles darkly. "I'm not patient at all. I'm just good at pretending." His hand smooths over my stomach. "Go to sleep, Noemi. In the morning, I’ll take you shopping."

“Rian…” It’s a ridiculous question. “How can I possibly sleep after that?”

He doesn't kiss me again, but he looks like he wants to. "Just try."

* * *

The next morning, Rian holds the door open, ushering me inside the high-end boutique. The shop occupies the entire ground floor of a limestone townhouse on Madison, and there are no prices anywhere to be found. My mother used to say that stores without prices aren't stores, they're private clubs. As in, you're already a member or you never will be.

Stacks of jeans and t-shirts sit next to curated racks of dresses. Upbeat electronic music plays as I sweep my glance around, taking in the wall of shoes and the tables of accessories. This place is so fancy that I don’t think I can afford even the smallest scrap of clothing.

A dark-haired man dressed in chic all black holds the door open. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Sullivan. Welcome."

What? That’s definitely not right. I blanch and open my mouth to correct him, but Rian beats me to it. "Jared?"

"Yes. It’s a pleasure to have you both in the store. We’ve closed for the morning to give you some privacy."

“Okay.” Rian tows me along, his grip on my elbow tight. “We need everything. Dresses, pants, tops… panties.”

“Rian,” I chastise him. No way is he going to talk about my panties with this stranger.

It occurs to me that, while I may feel that Jared is a stranger, I don’t qualify Rian as the same. Which is insane.

I’ve known him for less than three weeks.

Jared extends his hand to the sales floor. "I've already pulled everything you requested, Mrs. O'Sullivan. Do you want to start with my choices or look around first?"

"Um." I glance at Rian, who merely lifts his brows. Since he doesn’t give me any direction, I shrug. "Call me Noemi. And I'd like to look around first, if that’s okay."

Jared nods like I've said something profound. "Of course, Noemi. Take your time. I'll be right here if you need anything."

I drift toward a rack of dresses, running my fingers along the fabrics. Silk, cashmere, alpaca. Things I've never touched outside of a department store where I was too afraid to check the price tags.

“I can’t afford anything in here, you know.”

Rian smirks. "You don't need to worry about the money, Noemi. Ever. That part of your life is done."

“What, you just go around spending exorbitant amounts of money on girls you save from sex slavery?”

“Not girls.” He cocks his head. “Just you.”

I shake my head. What am I supposed to say to that? He’s insane.

Giving up, I pull a soft white sweater from a shelf and hold it up. It's beautiful and simple; it probably costs more than my rent.

"That's gorgeous with your skin tone," Jared says, appearing at my elbow like a very fashionable ghost. “Do you like any color palettes? Spring, summer, autumn?”

“Um.” I blush. “I like jewel tones. No patterns…”