Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
KERIAN
I’m pressing Zander against the door of his car and kissing his neck when I realize something.
This is all so fucking… domestic.
Holy shit , just because I told him he was mine doesn’t mean I’m going to settle down to play house with him. I’m obviously giving him the wrong idea, because he looks more than half gone for me, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit at least to myself that I’d been feeling…
Warm.
While we were in the restaurant.
Which means I need to change shit up, because the last thing I want is to feel content with something that’s not in my control. Sure, I could—and would—stalk Zander Braithe for the rest of his life and remind him who he belonged to, but if he decided he didn’t want my… attention to be sweet anymore, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
The fact that I care if he wants to be sweet is ridiculous. I stuff my hands into his jeans pocket and fish out his car keys while he’s writhing against me. He doesn’t realize what I’m doing until I’m at the driver’s side of his car, pulling the door open and hopping in. I could tell he was anxious showing me his car, probably worried I’d judge him or something.
But honestly… I have money because my parents bought me shit before I went off to college and I have a trust fund from my grandparents that they can’t touch. I didn’t earn that shit. It doesn’t matter .
And I don’t judge Zander for having a car that looks like it’s seen better days. It sounds like it means a hell of a lot more to him than my car does to me—if anything, doesn’t that make it better?
I start the engine while he’s staring at me from the passenger seat.
“Next time we take your car, I’m driving.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to threaten me, but I shrug.
“Whatever.”
His jaw drops, just slightly, and then his lips turn up in a grin. It doesn’t leave his face as he stretches across the console and slides his fingers along my arm until he can take my hand.
My jaw clenches, but I don’t pull away. I have plans that are going to make all of this worth it—that will make me feel better about it.
Plans that will remind Zander that beneath all his sappy, lovey shit, I’m always going to be the guy who put him on his knees in a club and made him choke on my dick.
And if those plans are self-serving and the idea in my head is sparking wildfire along my nerves, that’s even better.
He doesn’t blink when we pull into the parking lot of the local mall, and he doesn’t question me when I start inside. He catches up to me with an arched brow.
“What are we here for?”
“We’re on a date, right?” The word date makes his eyes light up.
“Right.”
“Well, you bought me dinner. I get to buy you a present now.”
“I don’t want—” I cut him off with my mouth, pressing a hard kiss to his lips that makes him sway into me.
“Trust me. It’s a gift for me more than you anyway.”
I can see his curiosity spike at that, and the grin that crosses my lips only makes it burn brighter. Fuck, he’s so innocent and… trusting. Like a sweet little puppy.
What kind of life did he live before he met me? And why don’t I care that what I want more than anything is to ruin him for any life that I’m not in?
“Uh, Kerian?” His voice pitches up just a little when he realizes what store we’re headed to. He kept swiveling his head when we passed other shops, but his eyes are wide as I drag him into a lingerie store.
“What?” I say it as innocently as I can, dragging him forward and shoving him in front of me to stand by a mannequin with a red bralette and panties on. “Do you think you’re more a red or a blue?”
“Me?” Zander’s voice comes out in a little hitched gasp, and the grin that crosses my face is probably just a little unhinged. “What do you mean, me?”
I ignore his question and reach around him, picking up a pair of dark purple underwear. “Hm… maybe this?” When I hold it up to him, I feel my cock give a little twitch that sends a small shiver through my body.
All I can see behind my lids is Zander in silk, his long, strong legs hugged by stockings and a garter, his cock straining against a pair of panties, and his nipples hard beneath a bralette that barely fits his upper body.
Fuck . It’s more than a twitch in my jeans. I’m half hard and my fingers clench on the silk I’m holding.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea—because this isn’t doing what I wanted it to do. I wanted to embarrass him, and sure… his skin is a pretty, flushed pink. But I also wanted to prove to myself that I don’t need anything more from this.
But now my brain is imagining coming back to my apartment and Zander spread out on my sheets in nothing but this shit.
Fuck.
Fuck me .
And I see it when Zander notices.
His eyes widen, trailing between the expression on my face and my obviously hard dick… and the little shit leans forward, pulling the underwear from my hand and tossing them back onto the pile. When he leans into me, his voice is soft.
“I’m really more of a red kind of guy.”
What the fuck ? I brought him here to let him know that if he was going to call me his boyfriend , I was going to make it awkward for him.
And instead, the little fucker turns around and rummages through the display behind me until he comes up with a handful of crimson… and then he walks off toward the dressing room without looking back.
My gaze flicks around—there’s barely anyone in here, and the associate isn’t even at the front desk. I catch a glimpse of her somewhere in the back of the store, hanging bras on a rack.
Perfect.
If Zander thinks he’s going to win whatever little game we’ve started playing, he has another thing coming.
I catch up to him just as he’s closing the dressing-room door and slip inside with him. His eyes go wide a second before I press him against the wall, but the moan that comes from his mouth when I cover his lips with mine is sinful. I kiss him until he’s near liquid in my arms, and only break it when I lean back to yank his shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?” He’s half dazed when he asks, and my hands drop to his jeans so I can flick the top button open.
“You picked out what you wanted, Dimples. Now you’re going to give me a little fashion show.”
The red of his blush chases along his skin and makes his cheeks flame, but his fucking nipples are hard in the cool air of the room we’re in, and he doesn’t move when I glide my hand up his chest and give one a hard pinch.
“I—”
“Come on, Zander.” His pupils slightly dilate when I say his name, and I step in, sliding my thumbs into the loops of his jeans so I can wiggle them down his thighs. “Get pretty for me.”
“Fuck.” He hisses, but his hips roll forward when I drop my hand behind the waistband of his underwear, and he’s hard under my palm. “Fuck you, Kerian.”
“Do you need help?” The question comes out husky, and he stands still like a mouse caught in the eyes of a snake. I pull the bralette from him and dangle it on a finger, then lean forward and take one of his nipples between my teeth, biting gently before soothing the sting with my tongue.
“We’re going to get caught,” he hisses again, but when I smooth my hands along his arms, he raises them up so I can slip the fabric over his broad shoulders.
For someone who obviously had no intentions of me following him, he still picked the largest size, like he wanted to make sure it looked good. It doesn’t fit him perfectly, but the fabric still pulls past the swell of his muscles and rests tight and strained against his chest.
Fuck, is it hotter because he looks like he’s about to rip out of it? My eyes drop to the panties in his hand, and I cock one brow, holding my fingers out.
Zander doesn’t hesitate this time when he hands me the bundle of fabric. He just strips while keeping his eyes trained on me.
My mouth instantly fills with saliva—fuck, he looks good pressed against the wall with the red fabric straining over well-trained muscles. Even though he’s blushing, and I can see the mixture of embarrassment and arousal swirling behind his expression, he’s standing there bare and waiting because he knows I want this.
Man, I really am fucked.
I drop to my knees in front of him. It’s too tempting not to lift my hand and draw my fingers up along his leg, tickling the hair there as I trace his muscles. The more I touch, the harder his cock gets. Half of me wonders if I could make him orgasm from gentle touches alone… but that’s not for now.
For now, we really do have to hurry… because I want this. I want to get him dressed up like my little slut—I want to make him bite his tongue to hold in his moans when I put my hands on him because he’s dressed up just for me .
I want too much, and I’ve never been able to stop myself from taking things when I realize they’re supposed to be mine.
And Zander—all of him, his blushes and his body wrapped in silk? That’s supposed to be mine.
I’m slow and teasing when I drag one of the red stockings up his ankle until the stretchy elastic snaps against his thigh. It’s too tight on him, but the bite of fabric against his skin is so hot I can’t stop myself from leaning forward and tracing my lips over the place where flesh meets silk.
Zander shivers above me, then he raises his hand and stuffs his fist into his mouth to hold back a moan as I move my head to the left and skate my lips along the length of his cock before putting the other stocking on his leg.
“You were right… Red really is your color.”
“Told you.” He gets it out on a strangled whisper that’s muffled against his fingers when I bite the skin of his thigh before grabbing the panties he picked out.
He doesn’t fight me when I tap his ankles so I can slide them on past his feet, and he shivers when I have to tuck his cock down to bulge against the fabric.
I finish the ensemble off with the garters he picked out and then sit back on my heels, looking up at him while my ears are filled with the sound of every bit of my blood flooding straight to my cock.
“Fuck, Dimples.” My eyes rake up and down his flushed body, but I see the confidence pour into him as they trail back up to meet his face. “Look at you.”
He bites his lower lip and brings his hands forward, skating his palms over the fabric straining against his frame. When he brushes his fingertips over his nipples and shivers, I know he’s doing it on purpose. It brings me up to my feet so I can crowd against him, and my hands follow the path he just trailed—the warmth of his skin in contrast to the smooth silk is intoxicating. I want to mouth over his cock, I want to pull the thin string away from his ass and absolutely devour him.
I want hours of him dressed just like this until I turn him just as red as the fabric he’s wearing.
I open my mouth to tell him that, and somehow the words get caught at the back of my throat and turn into something else.
“What do you want, Zander?” My fingers glide up, trailing along his jawline, and my tongue licks the seam of his lips. “We’re not leaving this dressing room until we both get off… so tell me how you want it.”
His lashes flutter, eyes going hooded and dark. Instead of answering me, he drops to his knees in front of me and tilts his head back.
“I bought you dinner, Slade.” He licks his lips and looks up at me. “But I’m still hungry.”
And like the absolute slut he won’t admit he is, Zander tilts his head back and sticks his tongue out, looking up at me with eyes that are practically begging me to fuck him.