Chapter 37 – Vale
LINGERIE AND JEALOUSY
VALE
I’m standing in a dressing room staring in horror at my own reflection.
Oliver is on the other side of the door chatting with a salesperson.
Her giggling is getting on my nerves, but I can’t do anything about it currently.
I’m staring wide-eyed at the lingerie he chose, wondering how I got myself into this mess.
It’s just a bunch of straps. I don’t know how to put it on.
“Can I come in?”
“Hell no!” I yell, irritated by my own predicament but mostly embarrassed.
“Open the door, or I will.”
I open the door with a groan and scoot behind it so other people can’t see me.
I’m practically naked. Seriously, I can’t figure out how to put the thing on, and the straps seem to have locked around my thighs.
I shut the door when he’s inside and make sure it’s locked.
He looks at me, then he starts laughing, eyes alight with glee.
I want to slap him if I’m honest. This is all his fault.
“What happened in here?” he asks as he tugs one of the little black straps that’s knotted between my thighs, holding my legs together like one of those finger traps you can win at the arcade.
“What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. You handed this to me over the door without an explanation or an instruction manual. I’m currently stuck in it because I had no idea how to put it on, and now I can’t take it off.”
Oliver falls to his knees in front of me, his lips smirking. Arrogant prick. “Let me see if I can help you out with that,” he says, his chest shaking. He’s trying not to laugh. I should appreciate that, but I still want to slap him all the same.
He unclips one of the straps—I didn’t even know it had clips—and pulls one strap over the front of my left thigh.
It starts to loosen, thankfully. His fingers brush against the lips of my sex.
I try to stop the breathy sigh that comes from my throat, but I can’t.
I have to look away as he adjusts the other straps.
He stands up, looking like a smug asshole. Have I slapped him today?
“Hold these.”
I grab the clip and strap in one hand. He lifts my hair, dropping it to the side before pulling a strap over the side of my neck. He grabs the clip from my hand and snaps it into place. He takes the fastener side and clips it on another, then gets behind me and clips another at my waist.
“There you go. It looks good on you, baby,” he says as he appreciates his handiwork. His eyes move to mine in the three-way mirror, and he stares me down, making me horny and nervous.
He’s behind me, his palm possessively flat over my belly. I stand there with leather straps crisscrossing over my hips. Three large, silver grommets are placed in strategic positions. There’s one grommet for each nipple to poke through, then a third over my mound where multiple straps attach.
“Imagine for a moment that you’re on your hands and knees,” he says as he pushes me down, taking my weight right before my knees hit the floor. I land gently with a gasp. He looks like a god behind me, so strong, fit, and fucking gorgeous.
“Do you see how the straps connect above your pussy?” He bends down to whisper in my ear. I look in the mirror at the thickest metal grommet over my mound.
I can’t speak, so I nod my head as I lean my head back on his thigh.
“Wanna know what that’s for?” he asks, and I nod again.
Oliver grabs the straps at my waist and tugs. The straps on each side of the lips of my sex tighten, spreading me open, and it takes all the strength I have not to moan.
“Now, stand up,” he demands, and I get up quickly. “You see these straps over your breasts?” He grabs them and tugs. The straps press against my breasts and tighten against my sex.
I hiss. “I can’t take anymore. I’m dying. Please, Oliver, you have to stop.”
He smiles sadistically in the mirror. The look is so feral, like at any moment he’ll attack me. Instead of attacking, he growls, “You can’t take it? I haven’t even started.” Those words make my skin prickle with gooseflesh and I shiver.
He gathers my hair into his fist, then looks up into the mirror as he angles my head to the side with a devilish smile.
I watch helplessly as he licks up the side of my neck, never losing eye contact.
I quake in the wake of that single taste.
The way he looks at me so possessively, like he owns me. I want him to own me.
“I’m going to teach you such filthy things.
Make peace with the fact that you won’t be innocent in the morning.
Also—” He gets real close, nipping at my earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth, never taking his eyes off me.
He loves teasing me in the mirror, forcing me to witness my own downfall.
“I don't get tired. I don’t have to sleep. I can come over and over again and still be hard,” he whispers, threatening me with that pantie-melting smirk.
Oh, my fuck! That smirk is deadly. His words scare me. Does he want me afraid of him? I’m turned on and frightened in equal measure, a unique, exciting combination to be sure.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I smile back, proud of myself for being able to get the words out.
“Then pack it up because I’m buying it all. I don’t want you to be sad when I rip it off you and we start over.” He walks around the dressing room, looking at the other things I’ve been trying on, then he rips the tags and walks away like nothing happened.
How is he so calm about this? He says he aches for me, but he can’t. It’s not possible because he’s still able to function, while I’m a soaking wet, mess of a girl unable to move.
Oh, my God, he’s going to fuck me till I can’t walk. I’m only human. Can I handle him? Once or twice, yeah, okay. But if he fucks me all night, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. I’m going to need a lot of electrolytes tomorrow, maybe even some painkillers.
Is he going to hurt me? He’s been so possessive since we left that alley.
I’ve never seen this side of him. If another man looks at me, he steps around, blocking me from their view.
It happened in the market. Then again at the thrift store.
Outside on the sidewalk, we were just walking, looking at the shop windows, and he told some guy, “She’s taken, pal. Move along.”
I’d like to think I’m a modern woman, that I should be mad that he’s being like this, but I’m not. It makes me hot. Oh, that possessive streak makes me so wet. I’m so hot and bothered right now I’m sizzling with heat. I don’t think I can take much more of his teasing.
Every little thing he does makes me throb, makes me ache and clench inside. All I have to do is look at him and I’m horny all over again. He doesn’t have to touch me to send me into overdrive, but he can’t seem to hold himself back from touching me either.
My hands are shaking when I figure out where the clips are, and I remove the crazy straps from my body.
I get dressed, then grab all the lingerie as I step out of the dressing room.
Oliver is at the counter waiting for the clerk to scan all the tags.
He won’t let me pay for anything even though I told him I have money.
He insisted on buying me everything I picked out to purchase for myself.
Then he started buying me things I only glanced at. He’s being ridiculous.
Oliver is chatting with another lady I can’t see on the opposite side of him. He’s so friendly to most people he meets, unless they’re of the male persuasion and looking at me. He looks so at ease, even in a women’s lingerie store. Of course he is.
I take a moment to admire him. My man is a hottie. I don’t blame people for wanting him. I want him too. I want him to be mine forever, not for the rest of summer, not for a little while. Forever.
Then I hear a familiar, nasally voice. Oh no!
I have a slap my forehead kind of moment.
Shae is standing beside him, hand on his arm like she owns him.
Flames lick over my mind as I grind my teeth.
He’s mine! I have to calm the anger inside me, but she’s standing too close.
She’s touching him, and he doesn’t belong to her. I hate it so much.
I drop the lingerie on the counter in front of him.
The cashier packs it up in such a wasteful manner, wrapping each piece in tissue paper and tucking it into different sized, pale blue boxes with gold lettering.
I’m not actually annoyed with the clerk, but the fact that Shae’s still touching my man is making it difficult not to go nuclear.
Oliver wraps his other arm around my tense shoulders, pulling away from Shae to my absolute delight. He turns us to face her, but Shae doesn’t seem to care that he’s touching me. She tries once more to grab his bicep. I try to stay calm, I really do.
“When are we going out?” Shae asks as her eyes zoom to me, squinting in barely concealed anger.
I press my palm on his chest. “Where are you two going?” I ask innocently, trying not to smirk as I look up into his mossy-green eyes.
“We’re going on a date,” Shae says it so matter-of-factly, I’m surprised she can keep a straight face.
I shake my head. “Shae, you know he doesn’t date right?”
“No returns,” the cashier interrupts our glaring contest, looking uncomfortable.
I keep my eyes on Shae. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want me to return it.” Shae’s eyes flair. She knows what I’m insinuating.
Oliver snickers as he pulls his arm away from Shae. Again. “Yeah, you don’t want those back.” He smirks and hands the blushing clerk his card.
“So where are we going on our date?” Shae says again, butting into our sexy-time joke.
“Yeah, baby, where are you taking her? It better be nice. Not some shithole.”
He grabs my chin between his finger and thumb, lifting my mouth up.
My lips separate on a sigh, and he leans down, licking up over my bottom lip, then the top with dark promise in his eyes.
Then he kisses me hard, fucking his tongue into my mouth like he owns it.
He’s never kissed me like this in public.
I moan into his mouth. I don’t want to hide what he does to me.
Let her see. He’s mine. I grab his neck and pull him closer.
When I finally pull away, he’s staring at me with heat in his eyes the likes of which I’ve never seen.
Is this an act? Is he acting for my benefit.
Then again, he might be turned on by my jealousy.
Is that it? Does he want me to be possessive?
The clerk waves his card around in front of him, but he doesn’t look at her as he grabs it and places it in his wallet. He continues looking at me as if he’s trying to tell me something, but I can’t for the life of me focus on anything other than that smirk and his flushed cheeks.
“Take me home,” I say, loud enough for Shae to hear.
“I’ll take you home if by home you mean my fucking bed,” he growls, grabbing my ass in one hand and lifting me against him like I weigh nothing.
I let out a giggle as he holds me awkwardly against him, only one of my feet touch the floor.
He’s hard, and when I realize he’s using me as a modesty shield, I burst out laughing.
“You’re crazy,” I say. “Good seeing you again, Shae,” I lie as he grabs the bags, supporting me in one arm while also trying to drag me out of the shop caveman style.
“Oliver, wait!” Shae yells, and now I’ve had enough. Doesn’t she understand what we're doing? I didn’t want to be rude, but he’s mine.
He knows it, and he drops me so I land on both feet. “Tell her I’m yours,” he whispers into my ear. “Tell her you own me.”
“Just stop,” I tell Shae with my hand up. “Oliver is nicer than I am. He’s trying to let you down easy, but he’s not yours,” I try to explain, but Shae doesn’t let me finish.
“He isn’t yours either, you trashy, little bitch. He doesn’t do relationships,” Shae says in a desperate, high-pitched voice. She’s so smug that a part of me doesn’t mind setting her straight.
Oliver steps forward, but I hold my hand out against his chest, stopping him. I can handle her. Confidence fills me, and I don’t cower like I did before. I make a promise right then and there that I’ll never cower to her again.
“I don’t appreciate you calling me a bitch, but I’ll let it slide because I know how easy it is to fall into this one’s web—” I use my thumb to point at his chest. “But you’re wrong about something.
He’s already mine. I hate to break the news to you like this, but he belongs to me. I own that sexy ass, don’t I, baby?”
“You do, my love.” Our eyes meet and there’s a look of pride on his face. Then he looks back at Shae. “I belong to her. Vale and I are together. I’m sorry if I misled you, Shae. That was never my intention,” Oliver says because he’s nicer than I am.
Shae stomps her stiletto-heeled foot and again she reminds me of a rabid Chihuahua. She’s super pissed. If it were me, I’d be crying of embarrassment and running away, but not Shae. She’s used to getting what she wants and she wants Oliver. She can’t have him.
“You’re really with her now?” She gives me a disgusted once-over, like she doesn’t understand. I see it in her eyes. He’s too perfect, too sexy and I’m not enough to lock someone like him down.
“Vale told you, we’re together. You’ll accept she’s right. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s speaking to her, but he’s facing me now. “We were just two stars that collided in an explosion of blinding light. She’s my everything. I hope you find that one day.”
I want to cry at his words. They’re so sweet. I love him, and I see so much love in his eyes. I’ve seen it before, but I didn’t recognize it. I think Oliver Byron loves me.
“Well, it’s your loss buddy,” Shae says before stomping away.
“Not really. I’ve gained the entire universe.”
I take in a huge gulp of air and swallow. Tears shimmer in my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he says gently. “Mascara.” He points at his eye.
“You’re too much, Oliver.”
“As long as I’m enough for you, then nothing else matters.”
Does he realize what he did for me? He pushed me to speak our truth.
He pushed me to have a voice and claim what was mine.
But then he did something that no one ever has—he told her I was right.
He told someone he was with me and that I was more than good enough.
It didn’t matter what Shae thought of me.
He chose me.
Oliver thinks I’m good enough to tell the world about us. He did it in the restaurant, and he’s done it by being possessive. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I feel powerless when it comes to loving him. I couldn’t stop it even if I tried.
“Take me home. I don’t want to shop anymore.” I don’t want to wait anymore.