She shakes her head.
Luckily, my prick is eager to put on a show, standing at full attention as I reach for the top button.
“Not even Gabriel?”
I don’t know what the fuck makes me say that. The instant it leaves my mouth I want to swat it out of existence but it’s too late. Her face shutters as she curls her knees up to her chest, drags the towel over her shoulders to cover herself, forming a protective ball.
It’s the first time I’ve ever cock-blocked myself.
My hands fall away from my fly, and I sit beside her. It takes minutes of coaxing before she relaxes enough to let me hold her. By the time she does, all my enthusiasm for the project has left me.
I can’t do this. What should be a pleasurable but perfunctory act has become suffused with emotions, no matter how hard I try to avoid them.
I didn’t think this through at all.
“Should I do something?” she asks after long minutes of silence have passed. The uncertainty in her voice makes my throat ache.
“Not tonight,” I murmur in the best attempt at reassurance that I can muster. I can’t believe I’m sitting here, hugging a naked girl I barely know. A girl I’ll be sending home tomorrow. A girl who doesn’t deserve to carry the sting of my revenge. “You’ve done everything perfectly for tonight.”
If I wake tomorrow morning and my plan still seems valid, I can follow through then. Right now, that seems the least likely option. If not, I’ll cut my losses and inform her she’s relieved of the burden of becoming my wife.
Either way, I guess I’ll have company on my trip back home to get my dad’s signature where it needs to go.
The moment my new plan of inaction is sorted, my stomach grumbles. I ignore it but a moment later it does it again. What a nag. I release my hold on Crimson and stand, stretching out my back.
“There are some clothes in the wardrobe,” I tell her, walking over to pull open the double doors.
The space is grossly oversized for a wardrobe, even a walk-in, but my exes loved it. There are shelves, drawers, and hangers full of clothing that’s never even been worn. Overflow from dozens of optimistic shopping sprees. The outfits come in a variety of sizes and styles, differing according to whichever girl ordered the clothes, then left before she could wear them.
My workload occupies so much of my time, opportunities to go out are always few and far between.
Crimson stands, wrapping the towel around herself as she looks at the opulent selection. Not that I expect her to be impressed. Her dad’s so filthy rich she probably has a wardrobe twice the size back home.
When she doesn’t move to select something, I grab her hand and tug her closer. “If you want something different, we can order it, but even my personal shoppers won’t be able to get it here until the morning. Unless you want to walk around naked?” I raise my eyebrow suggestively, earning a tentative smile.
“Don’t the clothes belong to someone?”
“Me?” I shrug. “I’m sure it was all charged to my credit card, so you’re fine.” When she still hesitates at the entrance, I frown. “Just grab something.” The order still doesn’t propel her into movement. “What d’you normally wear?”
She blinks slowly, staring at me blankly. “My school uniform or jeans.”
School uniform. Christ.
There’s an entire drawer full of lingerie. I paw through the array and pull out a bra and panty set that look small enough, snapping off the tags. Next, I snag a camisole in dark blue plus a pair of charcoal yoga pants and a matching cardigan.
“Here,” I say, walking out and passing them to her. “Put these on.”
“Did I…?” She breaks off, chewing on her bottom lip so hard I wince. “Am I okay?”
I frown, uncertain what she’s asking.
She forces out the explanation. “You said you needed to know if you were getting your money’s worth.”
God. Sometimes I even disgust myself.
My emotions boil up again and I duck inside the wardrobe to recover, pulling out another outfit she can wear tomorrow morning. When it’s safe to look at her again, I drink in the sight like she’s water in a desert. Being obvious so she knows how much I like what I see. “You’re beautiful.” I cup a hand to the back of her head to draw her close enough to whisper in her ear, “You’re worth every penny.”
The flush spreads across her chest, setting everything alight under the slipping towel. Who knew blushing tits were even a thing?
