Page 61 of The Plus One Contract

I change into the second dress. Step out.

“Ten.”

I glare. “Nathan, you can’t rate everything a ten.”

“I absolutely can.”

“This one’s way too tight.”

He hums. “Yeah. That’s why it’s a ten.”

I bite down on my lip so hard it might start bleeding.

Why is it suddenly hot in here?

Dress three.

I step out.

Nathan lifts a brow. “Ten.”

I throw up my hands. “Oh, for—Nathan!”

His smirk is fucking lethal. “What? You wanted my input.”

I glare at him. “Your input is useless.”

“Disagree,” he says smoothly. “You’re the one who’s flushed.”

I cross my arms. “I’m not—”

“And before you argue,” he continues, his voice dropping. “You should probably know that you’re not stepping back into that dressing room without me noticing exactly how turned on you are.”

I forget how to breathe.

My entire body locks up.

He doesn’t even blink.

“You keep making me rate them, sweetheart, but you already know which one I like best.”

His voice is all heat and amusement, a slow, deliberate taunt.

“Which one is that?” I ask, breathless.

His eyes are all over me now, scanning my body like he’s picturing all the ways he’d take me out of this dress.

He drags his thumb along his jaw. “The one that makes you look like trouble.”

My pulse jumps into my throat.

I should say something. Something snarky, something defiant.

My pulse is a frantic, traitorous thing in my throat. Heat licks up my spine, my breath shuddering. I need to rein it in before I do something incredibly stupid.

“Stop it,” I blurt.

His brow lifts, pure amusement flickering in his stormy gaze. “Stop what?”

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