Page 21 of Sugar Baby

“Mind if I pop in and take a look?”

“Sure.”

The red velvet is scooped to the side, and then I am not so alone in the fitting room. “Oh, that looks amazing on you!”

If I hadn’t seen her eyebrows pop up in the reflection, I would have assumed that it was salespeople one-oh-one coming out of her mouth. But, no, I think she really means it. “Ah, thanks.”

Lisa smiles and nods before raising her hands in front of her, eyes darting down to the ribbon and then back up to my face. “May I?”

I give consent by turning to face her.

“If you could put your hands on your hips . . .”

She trails off as I do as asked, my attention firmly focused on one of the little gold hooks attached to the wall behind her head. The black satin loosens, but she only undoes the bunny-rabbit ears, leaving the under knot in place.

Her fingers brush against my skin, and I do my absolute best not to think about it.

“So, special occasion or . . .?”

“Ah.” I reply with a drag on the syllable, because fuck, what am I supposed to say?

Oh yeah, totally a special occasion. I’m going to let four old dudes fuck my brains out for a few hours, then they are going to shower me in cash. Yep.

No. So, I go with yet another lie.

Because what’s one more?

“No special occasion, just wanted to get something cute to surprise my boyfriend with.”

She smirks at me, with that knowing look only a woman can give. “He’s not going to know what hit him.”

Because I know she is expecting it, I grin and nod. “Right?”

Turning back to the mirror, I assess myself critically—tugging at the fabric here, fixing the strap there. Yeah, I can see my underwear through the lace, and when I turn around to look at the back, the thong nestles between my ass cheeks but doesn’t actually slip in.

“We actually have a sale running today. Buy one piece, get the second half off,” Lisa offers casually. “If you like, I can go and see if I can find a few other things that might look good on you. I think a dark purple or a red would work well with your skin tone. You said you wanted some negligees?”

I hum in response, fishing out the price tag. Before I take a look, I steel myself for a number that is going to be obscene for how little fabric I am wearing.

And, oh, yep. I was right.

One hundred and sixty-four dollars, plus tax.

Jesus fucking H Christ.

But, it’s okay. I have the five hundred from Oakley and there will be enough left over to get a teddy bear or something. And in twenty-four hours, I’ll have 10K in my account. I release a heavy breath. Yes to more pieces. And this way, if I want or need to do this whole thing all over again, I’ll already have the right wardrobe for it.

“Ah, yes, please,” I finally answer, agreeing to whatever. Lisa obviously knows what she’s doing, and rather than looking like an idiot floundering around out there, I’ll just wait and get her to do all the work for me.

She disappears from the room, and I’m left standing there, staring at myself mostly naked, and I have to suppress the urge to laugh. How is this my fucking life right now?

I reach for my phone and decide that a little teasing is in order. Holding up my phone, I snap a picture of the empty coat hanger, and then I sit on the chair and stretch my legs out in front of me, angling my knees a little. When I take the second picture, the angle of the camera makes it look like I’m naked.

Perfect.

I quickly open the app and send the two pictures.

I put the phone on the cushion behind me and glance down at myself. Should I be taking this off right now? Will Lisa care if I’m naked? Well, topless. Probably not, right? She’s probably seen more tits than a regular at a strip club.

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