Chapter Eighteen
Nic
This thing with Kira is so casual and fine.
I mean, we’ve had dinner together every night Kira hasn’t been on duty, complete with post-dinner TV and cuddles. And then
there’s the sex, of course, which is frequent and blisteringly hot. But no one is falling in love or anything, and it’ll probably
end when I move back to my place at the end of August, so what’s there to worry about? It’s August first. I can stay out of
trouble for a month.
I don’t sound convincing even inside my own head.
I just have to keep being careful. Kira is cool and smart and funny and brave and sexy and my brain could easily get confused by all this closeness. So I have to watch myself. Like Skylar said, I need to be my own anchor, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Even when I’m standing in a bridal shop with Kira by my side.
“Hello!” a frighteningly chipper saleswoman says, grinning at us like we’re adorable kittens or something. “My name is Darcy.
Are you here for a wedding consultation?”
“No!” I yelp, panicked, then realize that was maybe a bit too intense when Darcy and Kira both fix me with strange looks. “I mean, kind of? We’re meeting our friend Skylar here. The
appointment is under her name.”
Darcy’s face clears, expression sliding back into customer service mode. “Oh, wonderful. We’re so looking forward to hosting
her! I’ll be handling your fitting myself. Let me show you back to the fitting suite and pour you some champagne while you
wait. Will Ms. Clark be here shortly?”
I check my phone to see if there have been any updates. “Ah, looks like she got held up. She’ll be about ten minutes late.”
“No problem. That’s completely fine. You just enjoy yourselves until she arrives!” Darcy says, leading us into a back room filled with mirrors, clothing
racks with curated dresses, and—most important—a tray of fruit, cheese, and chocolate, with three glasses of champagne perched
atop an enormous ivory ottoman.
“Of course it’s completely fine ,” Kira murmurs in my ear once we’re alone. “She knows the opinion of 872,000 of Skylar’s followers depends on it.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the feel of Kira’s breath on my ear. Good thing we’re here to watch Skylar try on dresses,
not us, because I’m not sure I’d be able to handle the thought of Kira getting undressed just on the other side of a flimsy
door.
“I don’t even want to think about how much the dresses cost here,” I say, looking around at the tasteful decor and luxury
fabrics. “Do you think they even have price tags?”
I snag a champagne glass and wander over to a waterfall of white satin, checking every hem for a tag. Nothing.
“Yeah, that doesn’t bode well,” Kira says with a wince. “I don’t suppose that, during your giant heart-to-heart with Skylar,
you asked about her finances?”
I shake my head, staring at the little bubbles rising through the pale gold liquid in my glass. “No, we’d barely gotten through
the basic heart destruction portion before the fire started, and then I was... well, distracted.”
“Understandable,” Kira says. “I guess this is one of those times when we have to practice trusting Skylar more. I still feel
really bad about the Fiji thing.”
“Me too,” I agree, taking a sip of champagne to cover how much the whole situation still bothers me. “We really didn’t give
her enough credit. Now that she’s mentioned it, I can see that she’s been doing better the past year. I was just so used to
seeing her a certain way.”
Kira shrugs, joining me by the dress rack to look at the samples. “Hey, she always says she’s living proof that the prefrontal
cortex doesn’t finish developing until twenty-five. It’s not like your fears were unfounded. Old habits die hard, and I witnessed
plenty of Disaster Skylar over the last two years.”
I turn to Kira, mouth open to say something, but the thought goes right out of my head. She’s standing much closer than I
realized. And I didn’t expect her to be looking at me.
My mouth is on her before I can think better of it. I lean up and kiss her bottom lip, slow and lingering, and her mouth pulls against mine, everything slow as molasses. I just barely stop myself from renewing the kiss, some part of my brain reminding me that Skylar could walk in at any minute.
Oh, fuck, Skylar .
“Hey, um, not to make it weird after just randomly kissing you,” I say, grimacing. “But have you told Skylar about... us?
This arrangement?”
Kira shakes her head. “No. I thought... well, it’s not a good idea, right? She’d probably be so excited for us, and if
we tell her it’s not like that...”
I nod, unnerved by the emotion creeping into my chest. It almost feels like... disappointment? “No, you’re right. I haven’t
told her either. I just wanted to make sure we had our stories straight before she gets here. Sorry for kissing you like that.
I shouldn’t have.”
“You’re good,” she says, taking a quick look over her shoulder, then pressing one last quick kiss to my lips. “It’s okay so
long as we know where we stand, right?”
“Right,” I agree, taking a small step back to stop myself from drifting into the warmth of her body. “No problem at all.”
Thankfully, Skylar has good timing for once, flying into the room like a very chatty shooting star, with Darcy trailing after.
Skylar gives an excited double clap once she spots us, squealing as she pulls us both into a hug.
“I am so excited for this ,” Skylar says with a slightly strangling squeeze. “Don’t worry, none of these dresses are for you two. I asked them to hold
your outfits in the back as a surprise! I wanted to be here when you saw them.”
“Outfits for us ?” I squeak like an actual mouse.
“Skylar, I don’t think we can afford anything in here,” Kira says in a panicked whisper.
Skylar waves her protest away. “No, no, it’s my treat. Please, don’t worry! Don’t you remember me saying way back at the beginning
that I picked out outfits for everyone?”
“I do now , but—”
Skylar’s not listening, already swept up in her excitement. “Darcy, could we please see the fits I called about?”
“Yes, of course! Be right back,” Darcy says, trotting out the door on her mission. The second she’s out of the room, Skylar
turns back to us.
“Besides, I’m getting my dress for free and your outfits at cost,” she says with an eyebrow waggle. “Can you believe it? And
unlimited champagne while we’re here too!”
She sighs as she bites into a tiny chocolate cake from the snack tray. “I will not miss ninety percent of what goes into being
an ‘influencer,’ but I will miss these perks. Have you had one of these yet? They’re life-changing .”
I bury my stress with a tiny chocolate cake as instructed, which is a fantastic decision, then scramble for a napkin when
Darcy comes striding back in with a wheeled rack. I am covered in icing and crumbs and cannot touch these expensive clothes
until I know my hands are pristine. Skylar runs over to block the view as Darcy hangs each outfit in a dressing room, then
closes the door. Once Darcy departs to give us privacy, Skylar turns to us with a fierce grin.
“Oh, I’m so excited to see you both in these outfits,” she says. With a dramatic flourish, she whips open the door to the
first changing room, revealing a short purple dress hanging from the door hook.
“Kira, for you, I am obeying your insistence that every off-duty outfit show at least some skin by giving you a dress that shows a lot of skin,” Skylar says, taking the dress down to show us the back. “Lucky us, right, Nic?”
“Ha, yeah,” I say, so awkward it’s like the first words I’ve ever spoken in my life. “Lucky us.”
Really though. It will be a gift to see Kira in this dress. I can already picture her in it. The halter-style neckline plunges low , below the bustline, and goes even lower in the back. The ruched sheath hits above the knee, showing the perfect amount of
leg. The whole thing is plum purple, but it seems to contain more colors than that, with the way the light slithers over it.
“Oh,” Kira breathes, stepping up to run a hand over the dress with reverence. “I absolutely would have chosen this for myself.”
“I know,” Skylar says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I’d call it smug, but... nah, she actually nailed it. Doesn’t
mean I’m any less nervous for myself though. Skylar turns to me with a knowing smile, moving over to the next fitting room.
“Nic, I am continuing my almost ten-year search to find formal wear you feel comfortable in. No poofy dresses, I promise . For you, I’ve chosen...”
She throws open the door to the second fitting room. “This marvelous piece! This shop actually works with the custom suit
place next door to provide suit options for any body, no matter its shape, so I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you this
three-piece outfit in New Moon Black.”
My eyes go wide. The outfit is gorgeous, and for once, I actually have hope that I might not hate wearing it. I’ve never been comfortable in dresses, really;
they just don’t feel like me . But I’ve tried wearing suits before, and they didn’t feel right either. This outfit manages to nail a strange middle ground
that I am here for. It’s a pair of crisp pants with a lacy plum-purple shirt and... I don’t even know what to call it—a dress-coat? It’s
like if someone cut out the entire front of a formal satin gown, then belted it at the waist like a coat. All the billowy
drama of a dress, but with pants!
“Oh!” I gasp, grabbing Skylar’s forearm. “I hope it feels as good to wear as it looks. You might have actually done it this
time.”
Skylar pumps her fist in the air with a whoop. “Yes! Go, put it on quick. I gotta see this!”
We both dart into our dressing rooms to try on our outfits. I slip into the pants and top with my back to the mirror so I
can see the effect all at once, loving the sensation of the smooth, cool fabric against my skin. Expensive fabric definitely
feels different. I’m going to be paranoid about messing it up until it’s back on the hanger. Finally, I spin around and...
Wow. It’s so different from anything else I’ve ever worn, in a very good way. Comfortable pants, a top that makes my tits look phenomenal , and a belted flowy coat/skirt thing spilling down from my waist that is, frankly, majestic. I don’t often notice or care
about the way I look—it’s just not something that ever crosses my mind—but I can’t help but notice all the best features of my body in this outfit.
Kira’s door clicks open next to me, and Darcy and Skylar both gasp and squeal in excitement. This I’ve gotta see. I open my own door and slowly peek out... and am stopped dead in my tracks by that ass .
“Oh my god,” I blurt, then slap a hand over my mouth. Skylar bursts into laughter, full-on doubled over with her hands on
her knees, as Kira turns to face me. I’d like to say I have a dignified reaction or give Kira a tasteful compliment...
but the front is just as bad. And by bad, I mean perfect .
I finally wrest my eyes away from Kira’s chest to see her cheeks stained with flush under her freckles... as she looks
straight at my chest. We’re doing so good at this “hiding our relationship” thing.
“Oh, Nic, that’s exactly the reaction I was going for, thank you ,” Skylar says, wiping tears from her eyes. “Here, stand next to Kira. I want to see both of these outfits together.”
She waves her hands at us until we shuffle next to each other, shoulders brushing. Kira leans in close to whisper.
“You look amazing.”
I smile, bumping my elbow against hers.
“You too. Obviously.”
“Oh, this is too perfect,” Skylar says, snapping a dozen photos with her phone. “Kira, obviously I knew that dress would be
perfect on you, but Nic, this is a triumph . Are you comfortable? Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I admit, swiveling my hips so the skirt thing swirls a bit. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. And it’s
actually comfortable.”
Skylar launches herself toward me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Ah, we finally did it! We found you formal wear you
can tolerate! Come on, both of you, over here to the big mirror so you can really see yourselves.”
We do as instructed, standing side by side before the giant mirrored wall... and it takes my breath away.
We look fucking hot together.
The purple of my lacy top is the precise shade of Kira’s dress, and the satiny black of my outfit brings a certain level of
drama. I couldn’t tell in the fitting room, but the inside of my skirt is a liquid flash of silver, a perfect contrast to
the black. I meet Kira’s eyes in the mirror and see a heat in her eyes that feels almost indecent with spectators in the room.
But I get it.
We look so good. And more than that—we look good as a matched set. Like we belong together.
That thought should scare me more than it does. Instead, it just makes me want to get Kira out of that dress as soon as possible.
Skylar clears her throat delicately to get our attention, then directs us into a series of photo ops that quickly turns ridiculous.
We send a stream of increasingly wild photos to the group chat, only stopping when Darcy pops back in to see if we need anything.
“Okay, friends, I’m going up front to settle things with Darcy,” Skylar says, shooting a wink at the saleswoman. “Meet me
outside once you’re changed?”
“Wait, don’t we get to see yours?” Kira protests, looking around for an expensive, ostentatious Skylar dress somewhere. Skylar
shakes her head with a Grace-like grin.
“Nope! I want it to be a surprise. You both know all the other surprises I have in store for that night, thanks to your shenanigans ,” she says with a pointed look. “I have to hold something in reserve to surprise you! I love it so much, though, and it feels good to wear, too. Trust me, you’ll agree.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say, glancing over at Kira. For all her flaws, Skylar does have a well-honed sense of what will make a person look and feel great, herself included.
“See you out front in a few!” Skylar says, waving as she disappears, closing the door to the private suite behind her.
We disappear into our respective changing rooms to very carefully remove our new and extremely expensive clothing. I manage to undo the belt holding the dress-coat in place—though wrangling
it back onto the hanger is another story—and get myself back into my jeans. Just as my hands drop to the bottom hem of my
top, Kira lets out a frustrated groan.
“Nic, can you help?” she calls. “This dress has one of those tiny hidden zippers you need a pair of tweezers to find, and
I’m extremely stuck.”
“Yeah, I got you,” I reply, slipping out of my dressing room and into hers before the reality of the situation hits me.
Kira stands with her back to me, one hand bracing herself against the mirror while the other tugs uselessly at the tiny zipper,
which is at the small of her back. The fortunate/unfortunate part is that I can see right down the front of her dress with
her bent toward the mirror like that, and she has the bottom of the dress hiked up around her upper thighs like she tried
to get it off that way before I came in. With a slow breath, I shove down all the tempting scenarios my brain presents me
with and focus on the task at hand.
“Stop before you break it,” I say, swatting her hand away from the tiny zipper. “I got it.”
I step closer to get a better look, but it’s like the closer I get, the more intense the buzzing energy between us becomes.
The second I raise my hands to the zipper and my fingers brush skin, I know I’m in trouble. I meet Kira’s eyes in the mirror,
and she stares back at me, lips slightly parted. Oh, this is a bad idea. My breath goes shallow as I watch Kira’s tongue dart out to wet her lips, her body shifting restlessly under my hands.
Just unzip the zipper, Nic, just do what you came to do and leave, just...
The zipper parts with painful slowness, dragging down to the base of her spine until it reveals a line of stretchy black lace.
I should let go now. The zipper is done.
But then her hips rock under my hands, a small, uncontrollable movement.
I drop my hands to her thighs and wait for a reaction, maintaining eye contact in the mirror the whole time. When she doesn’t
tell me to stop,I drag both hands slowly, agonizingly slowly up her thighs until I touch the rucked-up hem of the dress. A quick check-in... then I keep pushing, up, up, until
the dress reveals just the bottom curve of the round swell of her ass, on perfect display and begging for my hands. I slide
my palms over her, taking in the view as I push the dress up even further, revealing the rest of the stretchy lace thong she
wore today. My breath hitches. God, this is a terrible idea, right? I shouldn’t? Not here, at least?
But it would be so fun to wind ourselves up and finish off at home...
I let my left hand drift back down over her ass and skate a single finger over the scant fabric covering her scorching-hot
center. I can tell how wet she is even from the outside... but when I hook a finger just under the fabric to slide along
her lips, I can really feel it. In the mirror, I see her bite her lip to muffle a gasp as my finger traces over her; she’s slick and ready, so ready for my fingers. When she starts to move restlessly against my touch, I raise my eyes to hers once again, positioning
my finger right at her entrance. Then I cock my head in a silent question.
She eases back ever so slowly onto my finger in answer, her mouth falling open in a soundless gasp. God. I watch my finger disappear inside her, just holding it still for her to use as she flexes her hips, slow at first, then
faster, faster, until her ass bounces on my hand as she full-on fucks herself with my finger. I can feel the image of this being burned into my brain for the rest of time—and as Kira reaches up under her dress to circle her clit,
I know one thing for certain.
We are not finishing this at home.
With my free hand, I tug open my jeans and slip my fingers inside, nearly crying out with how good it feels. I’m dying to
get on my knees and let her ride my face until she comes twice, but this has to be quick and quiet. Someone could come back
here any second. I gather my own wetness on my middle finger and work my clit slowly at first, then faster, the slide so easy,
so good, even with my jeans restricting my movement. Kira watches me in the mirror, our hands working between our legs together
as we ride this wave higher and higher—until I feel Kira begin to clench around my finger.
“Ah,” she whispers, then bites her lip to stop anything else from coming out as her hips buck, taking my finger as deep as
she can and squeezing her eyes shut against the wave of sensation. Her loosened dress finally loses its war with gravity,
falling down the arm still tucked between her legs to reveal her tight nipples, chest heaving as she breathes hard in the
wake of her orgasm. I know exactly what that nipple feels like on my tongue, dragging over my skin, and it’s this thought
that finally makes the rising fire in my belly snap.
I let my finger slip free from Kira’s wet pussy and fall back against the wall of the changing room, taking in the view of
her and chasing that last inch until the pleasure breaks over me, every muscle curling tight with the electric sensation at my center, surging again and again until I see sparks
behind my eyelids. God, I never thought I could come so hard from rubbing one out inside my jeans. With Kira in that dress,
apparently anything’s possible.
When I finally come down from the high, I open my eyes to find Kira leaning back against the mirror, flushed and short of
breath. I can’t believe we just did that. I shake my head in disbelief, and Kira’s mouth quirks at one corner.
“Well, uh... your zipper is done?” I say.
I can’t help but join in when Kira laughs.
Several minutes later, after a quick wash-up in the bathroom and a lightning-fast change of clothes, we slink back out to
the front, Kira about ten seconds ahead of me, so we don’t walk out together all sex-flushed and buzzing. Skylar waits for
us next to the front door, staring down at her phone.
I give Darcy a little wave and a “thank you” on my way to the door, but she signals for me to wait before I can escape. God,
I hope there weren’t security cameras. Am I about to get in very embarrassing trouble? But Darcy smiles like everything is
normal, pulling open a drawer under the register.
“Here,” she says, slipping a business card across the table with a wink. “For when it’s your turn.”
She shoots a significant look at Kira, who’s laughing at something Skylar says on her way out the door. My heart does a painful,
unwelcome flip-flop, and an unexpected prickle of heat creeps into the space behind my eyes. What the fuck? I’ve gotta get
this under control.
And I can never let Kira see this card.
I mutter something vaguely polite and flee the scene without meeting Darcy’s eyes.
Outside, I catch up with Kira, who’s waiting for Skylar to be done on the phone.
“What’s wrong? What did she say?” Kira asks, brows knit in concern over whatever is showing on my face.
I paste on a smile and throw the business card in the nearest trash.
“Everything’s fine,” I say. “Let’s go home.”
Kira looks like she wants to say more, her eyes soft and... pained, maybe? But all she does is reach out and squeeze my
hand, dropping it immediately as if burned by the touch.
“Yeah,” she says. “Let’s go home.”