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Amanda guided her to the little changing nook she set up velvet curtain, soft rug, a full mirror surrounded by warm lights. Ericka laughed when she saw it.
"You really built a whole boutique in here."
Amanda winked. "Only the finest for my wife"
Ericka froze at that word, biting her lip. "Say it again."
"My. wife" Amanda kissed her slow, one hand sliding up Ericka's waist.
Ericka whimpered and pushed her gently. "If you keep kissing me, I'm never getting out of this dress."
Amanda put her hands up. "Okay, okay — I'll behave. Maybe. Go change."
Ericka stepped behind the curtain, and Amanda paced outside like a woman fighting for her life.
She heard fabric rustle, a zipper, a soft gasp.
"Amanda..." Ericka's voice had that little tremble the one that always made Amanda's heart fall straight out of her body.
"Are you ready?"
Amanda: "No—yes—wait—okay, yeah, I'm ready. Maybe."
Ericka pulled the curtain back.
Ericka stepped out of the fitting room slowly, almost deliberately, like she knew exactly the kind of trouble she was about to cause.
The navy power-blazer set hugged her shape perfectly — sharp, clean lines, the kind that made her look like she had just stepped off the cover of Business of Fashion.
The silk camisole beneath shimmered with every tiny movement she made.
The pants were tailored to perfection, hitting her waist just right and flowing down into a crisp, commanding silhouette.
Amanda Parker's mouth literally fell open.
She didn't even try to hide it.
She physically couldn't.
"Ericka... oh my god," Amanda whispered, hand going to her chest like she needed to steady her heartbeat. "You look like you're about to walk into a Dior board meeting and make the entire executive team apologize for wasting your time."
Ericka's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
The CEO smile.
The one that made investors scramble, employees straighten up, and Amanda completely forget the English language.
She walked toward Amanda with controlled, graceful steps — each heel click echoing off the studio walls.
Her perfume wrapped around Amanda before she even reached her.
And when she finally stopped in front of her?
She lifted one finger and gently placed it under Amanda's chin, lifting her face until their eyes locked.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
CEO mode.
Power mode.
Ericka-has-full-control mode.
Her voice dropped low, silky, authoritative:
Amanda blinked twice like she was rebooting.
"O-Oh," she stammered. "I — yes. Yes ma'am. Absolutely. Immediately. At once. Right away."
Ericka tilted her head, amused.
"You're adorable."
"No, I'm—I'm very professional," Amanda insisted, standing up straighter like she was about to take notes in a meeting. "Ridiculously professional. The most professional."
Ericka stepped closer.
Close enough that their bodies almost touched.
"Hmm," she hummed, tracing the lapel of Amanda's blazer with two fingers. "You're trembling."
"That's— That's just the AC," Amanda lied terribly.
"There is no AC on in here," Ericka said smugly.
Amanda swallowed.
Ericka leaned in, brushing her lips across Amanda's — not fully kissing yet, just enough to short-circuit her entire soul.
Amanda let out a tiny, involuntary sound.
A soft, helpless noise she would deny until the end of time.
Ericka's smirk deepened.
"Close the door behind you, Miss Parker."
Amanda immediately reached behind herself and made a dramatic show of shutting an imaginary office door — complete with turning a pretend lock.
She even added a fake click sound.
Ericka burst into laughter, her whole face lighting up.
"You're ridiculous," she said, pulling Amanda by the waist.
"And yet," Amanda said, leaning in, "you keep me employed."
"Oh, I do a lot more than that," Ericka murmured.
This time when she kissed Amanda, it wasn't teasing.
It was slow, deep, and consuming — the kind of kiss that made Amanda's hands slide up Ericka's waist, her fingers gripping fabric that she herself tailored for her.
Ericka pulled back only to trail a few soft kisses down Amanda's jaw, then along her neck, then back up to her lips again.
Amanda let out a shaky breath.
"You cannot... just put on this outfit and expect me to act normal."
"Oh?" Ericka whispered, brushing her thumb along Amanda's lower lip.
"And what do you expect to do, Miss Parker?"
Amanda bit her lip.
"I expect," she said softly, "that you let me clear your schedule for the rest of the day."
Ericka laughed — low, warm, wicked.
"And why would you need to do that?"
"So we don't violate every HR policy in the building," Amanda said.
Ericka kissed her again, slow and deep, before whispering against her lips:
"Then clear it. All of it."
"Yes, ma'am."
Ericka leaned down and kissed her soft at first, then deeper, hands sliding into Amanda's hair.
Amanda pulled back with a breathless laugh. "Do not do that unless you wanna see the rest of this place tomorrow."
Ericka smirked. "Next outfit then."
When Ericka walked out in the emerald sheath dress with the high slit, Amanda actually had to sit down.
Like literally.
She dropped onto the little upholstered bench and covered her mouth.
"Wow." Her voice cracked. "Wow. Nope. Nope. That should be illegal."
The dress hugged Ericka's waist perfectly, the slit showing just enough leg to make Amanda's brain short-circuit.
Ericka twirled slowly. "You like it?"
Amanda stood up, grabbed her by the waist, and kissed her like she couldn't help herself. A slow, hungry kiss that made Ericka's knees wobble.
Amanda broke the kiss with a shaky breath. "That's not an interview dress. That's a 'make Amanda forget how to breathe' dress."
Ericka pressed her forehead to hers. "You made me feel beautiful."
"You are beautiful."
Another kiss — deeper, messier — before Amanda forced herself back.
"Okay. One more. Then I'm tapping out for my own safety."
When Ericka stepped out in the soft emerald blouse tucked perfectly into those razor-sharp high-waisted black trousers...
Amanda Parker levitated out of her chair.
She stood up so fast she clipped her hip against a rolling rack, which smacked into a mannequin, which wobbled dangerously before toppling onto the floor in a dramatic foam-plastic death.
Amanda didn't even look at it.
Her brain was too busy buffering.
Her jaw dropped.
Her soul left her body.
Her knees forgot their job.
"Are you kidding me?!"
Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence.
Ericka burst into laughter — real belly-laughter — doubling over and pressing her hand to the wall like her legs were giving out from laughter alone.
"Amanda!" she wheezed. "Sweetheart, the mannequin—"
"I don't care about the mannequin," Amanda said, pointing wildly at Ericka. "You. I care about you. And how... how dare you look like that?"
Ericka lifted her head, still smiling, cheeks warm from laughter.
The emerald blouse hugged her shoulders, draping softly at the collar but fitted through the sleeves.
The trousers sat high on her waist, sculpting her shape in a way that was devastatingly elegant.
She looked like the CEO of a luxury empire.
She also looked like Amanda's entire undoing.
Amanda pointed again, this time more emphatically.
"That? That right there? That's the—"
Her hand made a dramatic circle in the air.
"—'I run the company, the city, and Amanda Parker's entire emotional stability' outfit."
Ericka snorted so hard she had to cover her face with her hand.
"Oh my god," she said through her fingers. "Baby, stop."
"No," Amanda said, stalking across the room. "I will not stop. You walked out here like you were about to personally fire the sun for rising two minutes late."
Ericka laughed again, softer now, with that adorable tug at the corner of her mouth that Amanda loved.
When Amanda reached her, she didn't hesitate. She wrapped both arms around Ericka's waist like she was claiming her, pulling her in flush against her body.
"Turn around," Amanda murmured, her voice dropping. "Let me see the back."
Ericka spun slowly.
Amanda saw the delicate drape of emerald silk, the perfect seam work, the way the trousers hugged her hips.
Everything about the outfit whispered strength.
Quiet power.
Elegance with a blade hidden underneath.
"This," Amanda said, voice hushed with awe, "is it. This is the one you're wearing at your next interview or meeting."
Ericka leaned in and kissed her — slow, grateful, heartfelt.
The kind of kiss that felt like a thank you and an I trust you and an I'm yours all mixed into one.
Amanda kissed her back with equal tenderness, her hands smoothing up Ericka's back, then down, then around her waist again like she couldn't decide which part she wanted to hold most.
When they finally pulled back, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling...
"I love you," Ericka whispered, thumb brushing Amanda's cheek.
Amanda's eyes softened, her smile blooming warm and full.
"I love you more," she whispered back, pressing another kiss to the corner of Ericka's mouth. "And I'm not even sorry about it."
Ericka pulled back with that little smirk — the teasing one — the one that promised trouble and affection in equal parts.
"So..." she said, lifting an eyebrow, "do you wanna see me in the next outfit?"
Amanda's reaction was instant.
She grabbed Ericka's face with both hands and kissed her like she'd been waiting all morning for that moment.
Deep, warm, full of love but also extremely close to ruining any chance of trying on more clothing.
When she finally pulled back for air, she whispered:
"Baby... if you put on one more thing..."
Her thumb traced Ericka's jaw.
"...I'm proposing again. Right here. Right now. In the middle of the fabric scraps."
Ericka burst into laughter and kissed her once more — quick, playful, full of pure joy.
"You're ridiculous," she said, cheeks flushed.
"And you," Amanda said, giving her one last kiss on the neck, "look like my favorite problem."
Ericka giggled — an actual giggle.
Then kissed her again.