16. James
16
JAMES
“ L ove that dress,” I said as Natalie turned back and forth in front of the three-way mirror, checking out the simple black crepe dress from every angle. “It’s perfect for the cocktail party tonight.”
She turned to me, her expression dubious. “You think so? It’s not too short?” She tugged at the hem, which hit her mid-thigh. “I mean, I love it, but I don’t want to be inappropriate.”
“You can’t go wrong with Gucci,” I answered.
“You didn’t answer my question. This is a big deal, James. Is it too short or not? I don’t want to give Bernie another heart attack. Or your mom! I’m totally fine with short skirts, but this is different. This is family.”
I sighed. “With legs like yours, there’s no such thing as too short. We still need to pick up some heels to go with it.”
Natalie turned to look at herself in the mirror, tipping her head to the side. She ran her fingers down the beaded placket. “What about the sparkles? Are they too much?”
“You’re overthinking. You look stunning and you know it. All they do is reflect a little light, they’re very subtle. And wait till you see what Bernie turns up in. I’m guessing a glittery caftan with marabou trim on the sleeves.”
Natalie spun around. “She’s wearing something from our archives? That sounds like a piece from the 1970s Freedom collection.”
“Wow, you and Christopher really went deep, huh? Yes, Bernie loves showcasing archival pieces. Her private collection is museum-worthy. She has a climate-controlled room for all of them.”
Natalie’s mouth dropped open. “I would pay to see it.”
“Well, if Bernie deems you worthy, you’re in.” I grinned at her since we both already knew that my grandmother adored her. That much had been clear at Christopher’s apartment. I’d never gotten so many “this girl is a keeper” looks in my life. “Get changed, we’re on a schedule here. We still need some casual outfits.”
She started fighting with the zipper at the back of her neck, contorting herself. “Listen, I do not need $300 Gucci T-shirts. A couple of fancy party dresses, sure, I get going top of the line for that. But you don’t need to spend that much on everyday clothing. Can’t I just pick stuff out at Madewell or J. Crew?”
I walked over to her and slid the zipper down, planting a kiss between her shoulder blades. “You may.”
Natalie huffed at me, hiding a grin. “Never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Nope! I love that you get your pornography from books.” I sat down on the leather chair as she disappeared back into the fitting room.
She peeked her head out. “It’s literature , not porn.”
I chuckled at her exasperation. “Let’s pick up the pace. I also want to hit Bergdorf’s to see what they have for the party on Saturday. I’m not loving the more formal stuff here.”
She popped her head out of the dressing room again, her face white. “Wait. It’s formal ? Like, gowns?”
Damn it, the woman was adorable even when she was all stressed out. “No, no, don’t worry. It’s not black tie, it’s just dressier than cocktail. Let’s call it ‘creative formal.’”
She closed the door. “You’d think given my job I’d have a better grasp on what’s what when it comes to dress codes, but I still worry that I’ll make the wrong choice.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I reassured her. “I got you.”
A stunning sales associate with slicked black hair back glided into the dressing area. “How are we doing? What else can I bring for you to see, Mr. Branson?”
“I think we’re good. Hey, Nat, can you hand out that black dress, please?”
A hand holding the dress appeared over the top of the dressing room door and the associate took it from Natalie. “That’s all for today? Are you sure you don’t want to try some of our new suits?”
I shook my head. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that again. The last time I was here you conned me into half a dozen new ones. I’m good, thanks.”
She smiled at me and winked as she turned to leave.
Two hours later we were navigating the shoe section of Bergdorf Goodman after finding the perfect dress for Saturday night. Natalie’s face looked pinched, so I walked over to her and bumped her shoulder with mine. I had to wonder if she felt self-conscious because she was the only person in the store wearing cutoff jean shorts and Doc Martens. We were surrounded by ladies who lunch, who kept glancing over at her. But then again, it was also probably due to the fact that Natalie was a stunning natural beauty, and they were all the product of a surgeon’s hand—and still couldn’t hold a candle to her.
“Not finding anything?” I asked.
“No, I’m finding plenty,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “But…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I haven’t had a pedicure in ages. My toes are a mess. I don’t want anyone to see when I try stuff on.”
“Ah, so we should add that to our list of things to do before we leave, then. Though I bet they’re perfectly fine.”
She grimaced. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Well, let’s get to picking quickly, since now you’re going to spending time at the nail salon too.”
“Okay.” She nodded, picking over various pumps and sandals. “I’m thinking I can get a little more creative with my shoes since the dresses are more conservative than I normally go for.”
“ Conservative ?” I chuckled. “Your party dress is fire engine red and totally backless!”
She grinned. “You’re right, but it’s longer than I normally wear. I feel like I need to find some unique shoes to go with it.” She picked up a display pair. “Like these.”
She held up an impossibly tall red stiletto that had a chiffon ribbon that tied around the ankle, ballerina style.
“Well, those are sexy as hell. Try them on.”
“I need something for the cocktail dress too,” she mused as she craned her neck to look at the overwhelming number of options.
“These,” I said triumphantly, holding up a black heel. “Gorgeous, and a little naughty, just like you.”
At first the pumps looked like a basic strappy sandal, but closer inspection revealed that the embellishments along the straps were little pointed studs, and there was a tiny black skull hidden in the heel just below the sole.
“James, these are so me! They’re perfect!”
A bearded salesclerk in a suit homed in on us. “Welcome back, Mr. Branson. Let me get those for you, miss. You look like a size…” He glanced at her boot-clad feet. “Six?”
She nodded, shocked. “Exactly.”
“Excellent. Please head into our private seating area. I’ll meet you there.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow at me as she watched the clerk walk away with her selections. “You’re a regular in the women’s shoe department?”
“I’m a regular in every department here. Remember, my business is fashion. Half the time it’s research.”
Natalie followed me to a pair of green velvet chairs that were hidden away in a corner of the private room. “So, I don’t have to be jealous about you bringing your many women here?”
That surprised me. Natalie, jealous?
“Please. I’m married to my job, you should know that.”
She gave me a funny look and sat down in the chair, pulling off her Doc Martens and then tucking her bare feet beneath the chair. “Don’t look at my toes, okay?”
The clerk came back carrying four boxes. “I took the liberty of bringing two other comparable pairs that I thought you might like.” He set them down on the floor and started to pull a stool up in front of Natalie.
“I’ve got this, thank you,” I said, blocking him with my arm.
“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing between us. “I’m happy to help.”
“We’re sure,” Natalie answered quickly, tucking her feet even farther beneath her chair.
He walked away frowning, probably worried about his commission, but I’d already noted his name tag and would make sure to mention it at the till.
“All right, miss,” I said, plopping down on the stool in front of her. “Foot, please.”
“James.” She squirmed. “They’re really gross.”
I ignored her, reaching down to open one of the shoe boxes while holding my hand out to her. “ Foot .” It was a command.
“Fine,” she sighed, slowly placing her scrunched up bare foot in my hand.
I examined it, turning it back and forth and then bringing it up high.
“James.” She laughed as I raised her foot even higher. “I’m not a contortionist.”
I leaned closer to whisper to her. “I seem to remember some unique positions the other night.”
Natalie’s eyes went wide and then she smacked me playfully, laughing.
“Your feet are fine,” I said, turning it from side to side so I could see all of the angles. “Yes, you could use a pedicure, but they’re otherwise unremarkable.”
She smacked me again with mock anger. “ Excuse me? Unremarkable? Try again.”
“Apologies.” I bowed my head. “They’re absolutely perfect in every way. The most beautiful feet I’ve ever seen.” I ran my hand along the top of her left foot and continued up her leg, massaging her soft skin.
Natalie glanced around, fully aware of what I was suggesting with just my touch. “Shoes,” she said in a breathy voice. “We need to try on shoes.”
I ignored her and ran my hand up and down her leg for a few seconds, then slipped the red stilettoes on her feet, tying perfect bows at the back of her ankles.
“Walk for me,” I commanded.
I half expected her to hobble given how high the things were, but Natalie strode away from me with the poise of a runway model. The muscle in her calves and thighs flexed as she walked, and I shifted to try to suppress the growing tension between my legs.
She glanced around the place on her way back to me and came to a stop right in front of where I was sitting and planted her feet wide, in a power pose. The height of the stool put her crotch at my eye-level.
“You like?” she purred softly, winding her fingers through my hair.
I stifled a groan. “I’m addicted,” I said, quickly running my hand up her thigh and slipping it into the gap between her jean shorts and her leg. I didn’t care if anyone could see us, I needed to touch her now. My finger grazed the silk of her underwear, and she caught her breath.
“ James ,” she whispered. “You can’t. Not here.”
I paused, but Natalie didn’t move away from me. We were in a remote enough spot that no one could see us. Testing the waters, I stroked her lightly along the silk.
“How are you wet already?”
She whimpered. “Because I’ve wanted you all day. I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”
I worked her quicker, rubbing little circles over her clit through the fabric. Her knees buckled. How fast could I get her off?
“Oh my god, oh my god, don’t stop,” she whispered, placing her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. Her head fell backwards as I massaged her even faster.
I could tell she was getting closer by the way she pushed against my hand. I was desperate to make her come.
The sound of heels clacking on marble made me pull away quickly, and the hand that Natalie slapped over her mouth just managed to muffle her anguished cry.
“How are we doing in here?” a voice echoed in the distance.
We managed to right ourselves before the clerk turned the corner, but based on Natalie’s flushed cheeks and the awkward way I was hunched over to cover my raging hard-on, he probably had a clue that he’d interrupted something.
“Gorgeous!” he said, ignoring the obvious and pointing at Natalie’s red heels. “Are those a yes?”
“They’re all yeses,” I said quickly. “All four pairs. We’ll take them.”
“But I didn’t even try…” Natalie said, frowning.
“We’re in a rush,” I said pointedly, raising an eyebrow at her. “We have that appointment we have to get to. Immediately.”
She gave me a secret smile. “Right. Yes, I’m so ready for that appointment.”
“Wonderful,” the clerk said as he gathered the boxes. “I’ll meet you at the register and get you checked out quickly. I believe your card is on file, so it won’t be but a minute. Miss, you can wear those out if you like; they look fabulous.”
Natalie bent down to quickly untie the ribbons on the red shoes and kick them off. “No, here you go. We’ll be right up.” She handed them to him.
We both watched him leave, and the second he rounded the corner, we flew together like we were magnetized. I kissed her with pent-up ferocity, and Natalie ground against me. I reached down between us and pressed my palm against the seam of her jean shorts.
“I’m so horny ,” she breathed in my ear. She took my earlobe into her mouth and my dick pressed uncomfortably against my zipper. “What the hell are we going to do? I refuse to fuck in a dressing room. They probably have cameras in there.”
“How about in a town car with tinted windows and a privacy screen?” I asked, letting my other hand graze across her breast. “I scheduled an appointment at a nail salon thirty minutes from now. We’re going to hit traffic on the way there, which means you can sit on my lap and ride me until we get there.”
She closed her eyes in gratitude. “Yes, oh my god, yes. Hurry!”
Natalie pulled herself from my arms and stomped her way into her boots, then grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the register.
The clerk glanced over and gave us a curious look as we stumbled closer.
“Sorry,” I said. Natalie was hanging on my arm like she couldn’t stand on her own. “We’re late for a very important meeting.”
“Perfect timing, you’re all set. It’s five thousand six hundred ten for today, Mr. Branson.”
Natalie let out a shocked squeak as I quickly scrawled my signature on the receipt.
“Worth every penny,” I said, as I pulled her close to kiss the top of her head. “Off we go. I believe there’s a special seat waiting for you at the meeting.”