Chapter 21
ELI
Decisive and confident as ever, Sapphire picked out several dresses and was in the fitting room before I could say boo.
I count the taps of my foot against the marble floor, resting my back against the elaborate chair that looks more like a throne from a period drama than a side chair.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
It’s only been a few minutes since Sapphire entered the fitting room, but it feels like longer.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
I shouldn’t be here.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
I have things to do.
I don’t.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
One, two, three, four, five… The sound of the fitting room door unlocking brings an end to my frantic foot tapping.
After Sapphire told me she was going to approach a stranger on the sidewalk to assist her with buying a dress, it brought out a possessive side of me I’ve never felt before, and I’ve been on edge ever since.
She’s testing me, I know she is, and I shouldn’t react, but she’s the only woman on this earth who affects me the way she does. It’s not just a huge problem; there is no medication to help me forget her or that would have prevented me from following her into a dress store.
I wish someone had created something to help me get over this unhealthy obsession I have with her, because I would buy the pharmaceutical company that made it.
My mind is filled with so much conflict. I want to be here, but I don’t at the same time. It’s confusing me. She’s confusing me.
Sapphire steps out of the fitting room, wearing a figure-hugging dress that makes my mouth go drier than a sponge sandwich, and I’m grateful that we’re the only ones in the store.
Her friend Coral, who is just as kooky as Sapphire, stepped out for fifteen minutes to grab a bite, or everyone would see the effect she has on me. I’m on the verge of losing it.
An electric flutter surges through my chest, feeling like awe and longing, as the pressure builds against my ribs.
“What do you think of this one?” She pushes herself up on her tiptoes, mimicking a pair of high heels, imagining how it would look with a little more height, before spinning around right in front of me.
Her skin shimmers under the store lighting making it look like it’s been kissed by the sun from hours of cycling around the city, her calves toned and firm are begging to be worshipped.
Peach silk fabric swishes past my nose, her lavender perfume filling my senses, something I now welcome and imagine smelling even when she’s not around. Like a phantom that’s following me.
Clearing my dry throat, I reply, “I preferred the plain green one.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you would.” An uneasy look washes over her as she studies her reflection in the carved baroque-style mirror leaning against the wall that’s next to me. “I think it’s too short, I would prefer one that skims my ankles,” she says.
“The green one then.” I know I’m right.
“You are so predictable. Let me try it on then,” she utters quietly, walking back to the fitting room and relocking the door.
“We don’t have all night,” I mutter.
Huffing and puffing, she counters, “Yes, we do. You have nothing to do, remember?”
“I might be a grouchy pain in the ass, but you’re annoying.” I try to keep my overwhelming annoyance to a minimum.
“Annoyingly wonderful?” She giggles.
Does nothing offend her?
I can’t stop myself from smiling and I half turn in my seat to check myself out in the mirror and pull another smile.
She said I looked… What was it again? Oh, yeah, beautiful, when I smile.
Handsome.
Dashing.
Does she like me?
She must if she said she thought I looked handsome when I smiled.
What a head fuck.
What a rush.
I never thought she would see me like that.
Although what she doesn’t realize is that my outward appearance hides all the chaos inside my head. Now, that’s not pretty. Not even close.
The door unlocks again and I turn back to face her, not wanting her to know I was searching for what she sees in me that I don’t.
Expecting a green dress, I almost gasp out loud, my fingers curling around the arms of the wooden chair, making them creak under the pressure, because Sapphire isn’t wearing the dress I suggested; instead, she’s wrapped in rainbow-colored ombré silk.
The colors graduate from one to the next in soft pastel shades, smoothly transitioning from pink at the top, through yellow and mint green in the middle, to light blue and lavender at the gentle flared hem, highlighting every one of her curves all the way down to her ankles.
“I like this one.” She’s practically beaming.
“I do…” My voice comes out all high and squeaky, and I cough to clear my throat and try again. “I do too.”
It’s stunning.
Sleek. Elegant. Just like her.
“I like the spaghetti straps.” She does a slow twirl. “And the way it subtly drapes at the neck.”
So do I.
She turns one way, then the other, spinning around, and pauses to check her back in the mirror behind her, stretching her neck to get a better view. “I can’t wear a bra with it, though.”
I have no idea what to reply to that, so I stay quiet, my fingernails digging into the wood deep enough to leave scratches, my short nails bending under the strain.
“There’s a tiny fastener at the top of the zipper I couldn’t do up; could you help me?” She pivots sharply, the light catching her hair.
Hesitantly, I uncurl my fingers from the armchair and rise, only taking two steps to reach her, clenching and unclenching my fists to pump the blood back into them.
Behind her now, I take a deep breath in before locating the little clasp to keep the zipper secured at the top.
With shaky hands, I pull the fabric off her back and try once, then twice, before finally locking the two fiddly metal pieces together, being careful not to touch her skin because I might never want to stop.
“Done.” I look up and see her in the mirror, my cock eagerly springing to life in my boxers. Every inch of her looks irresistible, her sun-kissed skin radiant and glowing, and the airbrushed gradient-effect dress makes her seem like something out of a dream.
“You look beautiful, Sapphire.”
Redness crawls up her neck, creeping upward to her cheeks. “I thought you’d hate the dress,” she whispers as I close the few inches between us, my front almost flush with her back.
“I don’t hate it. It’s perfect.”
“But it’s not gray.”
I love it and want to peel it off her body, slowly, to savor every minute and unwrap her like a gift.
One layer at a time, first slipping the thinnest straps of the dress off her shoulders to reveal her tits that look perfect whatever she’s wearing and I know will be even more perfect bare.
Too many times I’ve imagined what color her nipples are.
Warm, soft rose, like her lips, I think.
The thrill of not knowing is almost too much for me, and I wouldn’t start with her nipples, instead, I’d lift her dress and bury myself between her legs, and have her smother me with her pussy so she could wrap her sexy little cowboy boots she often wears around my ears.
Then I’d tease that belly ring of hers between my teeth too.
The one I’ve been thinking about since the day we went for coffee.
Then I’d lick her toned stomach and run my tongue over her perfect curves I want to spend hours getting better acquainted with.
I want to be patient but I’m not sure I could be.
She’s dangerously magnetic and sets something alight inside of me I don’t want to extinguish.
I lift my hand slowly to her hair and brush the pale-blue ends with my fingertips. It’s softer than I imagined, like pastel clouds in a watercolor dream.
“Blue, lavender, mint green, and pink are fast becoming my favorite colors,” I admit. That’s just some of the shades she dyes her hair.
“Yeah? You’re wearing a blue shirt today and a blue tie. Is that to match my hair?”
I’m more transparent than a freshly poured glass of spring water.
I nod, unable to form words. My fingers tingle with anticipation, our eyes fixed to one another in the mirror.
It’s impossible to explain what I do next, and I can’t stop myself as I sweep her hair from off her shoulder.
On autopilot, I drop my lips to the curve of her neck, my eyes never leaving hers, and I kiss her soft skin. Just once. Enough for her to eat up the small space left between us and press her body against mine, which is precisely what I want.
There is no way she won’t feel how hard my cock is for her as she wiggles her perfect ass against my thickening length, pulling a groan from my chest.
This is the closest we’ve ever been, and I close my eyes, inhaling the way she smells, tasting her on my lips, soaking in this feeling of deep contentment.
I kiss her skin again, slightly harder this time, moving closer to the spot behind her ear and kiss her over her quickening pulse, goosebumps rising across her skin.
Watching her in the mirror once more, I find the courage to wrap my arm around her waist and hold her tight, enjoying every single second of whatever is happening between us.
With one hand, she reaches up and then digs her fingers deep into my hair, her fingernails grazing my scalp, sending electric tingles down my spine, cascading in waves.
“Sapphire.” I sigh, then lightly bite at her earlobe.
“Don’t stop, Elijah.”
Using my full name makes everything stop, and I freeze, step back. My lips leave her skin, and my hands drop from around her.
What the fuck am I doing?
“I’m so sorry,” I stammer, running my hands through my hair she was just touching and that I enjoyed her doing.
“I have to go.” I should never have agreed to help her.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Send me your address.
” I avoid eye contact, unable to understand why I did what I did without asking her if it was okay to kiss her and touch her soft skin.
She’s too pure and too perfect, and she doesn’t need my fucked-up head ruining that.
Storming toward my suit bag, I unhook it from the coat stand, unable to bring myself to look back, and I dig my wallet out of my pocket and pull out a dozen or so Benjamins, slapping them down on the counter. “That should cover the cost of your dress, shoes, and a purse too.”
Sapphire protests but I wave my hand in the air, dismissing her before disappearing into the dusky night, hoping that distance can erase what I shouldn’t have done but have longed to do for weeks.
It felt good.
Too good.
The kind of good that makes you lose control, but I don’t lose control.
I took things too far. Yet not far enough.
My cock got hard. All from a kiss, and it wasn’t even on that tempting fucking mouth of hers.
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? Next thing I know, I’ll be coming in my boxers when she tucks her hair behind her ear.
I was excited about tomorrow, but now it feels more like a punishment than a celebration.