Page 28 of Pretty Please Me
Do people really wear stuff like this in their everyday life?
I think about my collection of plain white cotton panties, with the exception of the five pairs of black I wear during my period. They’re comfortable, practical, and machine washable… What more does a woman need?
Maybe that’s why I’ve never gotten a second date?
“Maggie, what do you think of this?” Sam calls from the other side of the rack.
“Be right there,” I call as I hang Meredith back on the rack with her sisters? Friends? Whatever you call a group of Merediths.
“What’s—” I stop in my tracks when I see the black lacey nightie he’s holding. “Wh—what are you doing with that?” I awkwardly point, then cross my arms over my chest.
“I want you to try this on. I’ve already had them start you a dressing room, so just go on back, and I’ll be right there.” He nudges his head toward the dressing rooms.
“Are you sure, Sam? I don’t need all this. I’m not too good for Target.” I almost choke when I turn over the price tag for a little nighty that’d be barely long enough to cover my butt.
“Magnolia,” he warns in an almost growl. “Do you really think I’d spend all the money I have today on clothes and let you wear polyester undergarments?”
I clear my throat. “They’re cotton, actually.”
“They’re perfectly acceptable to wear when you’re menstruating.” He shoots me a glare. “Otherwise, you’ll wear something nicer. Understand?” His tone is clipped and final.
“Yes, sir?” I quirk a brow in question, sensing that the tone of our shopping trip is quickly trending from thefriendtodomterritory.
He stops in his tracks and tilts his head, wearing a surprised look of approval. “Very good.”
Sam leads me to the dressing room, where the saleswoman carefully spreads our selection on the rack. My eyes threaten to bug out of my head as I take in the array of sex clothes… because there’s no way any of it is regular underwear. No, this is designed with the sole intent of being taken off to have sex, which makes me wonder how something with such a short wear time can cost so much.
Strappy one-piece body suits with holes cut out in strategic areas, tiny silk dresses that surely won’t cover the bits that need covering, thongs, belts, and lacey, see-through bras with extra straps around the midsection…
I slide the curtain closed and hesitantly begin removing my clothes. Undressed, I choose the black silk nighty, the least confusing of all theoutfits. I’ve just pulled on the matching lacey thongs when I hear Sam say, “Come out here and let me see when you’re ready.”
I whip the curtain open just enough to shove my head out. “What!?” I hiss. “I’m not coming out there in this!”
“Magnolia.” He growls just low enough for me to hear. “This is a private dressing area. There’s no one out here but me…”
“Fine.” I sigh, blowing my hair out of my eyes, then slide the curtain open and step in front of the large mirror in the center of the small room.
Sam comes to stand behind me, just like he did before, only this time, his hungry eyes lap me up, carefully settling on every inch of my body in the mirror’s reflection. His eyes finally meet mine, and he looks like he’s in pain.
It’s too much to take. He probably realizes he wants out of our deal. Seeing how ridiculous I look in next to nothing, realizing I don’t belong here.
A crimson blush creeps over my chest and cheeks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to take his disappointment any longer.
I don’t know if I want to shrivel up in a little ball or run. Sam’s grip on my waist tightens, anchoring me in place.
“Open your eyes, Magnolia,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath brushing my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “Open your eyes and admire yourself.” He releases my hip and nudges my chin up, so I’m standing up straight as I hesitantly obey and let my eyes flutter open.
“Good girl.” He smirks, then runs his finger over my lips. “Now, look at yourself. Look at how breathtaking you are.” He runs his fingers down the back of my arm, barely grazing my skin yet shooting bolts of electricity in his wake.
My breath hitches as his hand caresses my hip, playing with the hem of the ultra-tiny nighty that doesn’t even cover my ass. “You look good enough to eat, do you know that?” He tightens his grip on my waist with his other hand as he lets his free hand roam toward the top of my thigh, teasing the hem of my panties.
Arousal floods my system as my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. My nipples harden under the thin silk as every hair on my body stands on end. He brushes my long hair over one shoulder and peppers kisses on the other. I can’t help but arch my head to give him full access to the side of my neck.
“You’re so responsive,” he whispers as he leans into my neck, sprinkling kisses over every inch.
I suck in a heavy breath as my eyes find his in the mirror’s reflection. He smirks when he sees me, then slides his hand over my neck and gently tightens his grip. I can feel his erection against my back, he’s hard as granite, and my eyes flutter closed as I take in all the sensations. When he releases my neck, my thighs reflexively clench at my aching center as I try to stand on wobbly legs.
“God, I’m going to have fun with you.” He slides his fingers from my hip up my stomach and grazes over the side of my breast before returning to my throat, where he lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’ll wear this tonight.” Then he pulls my hair back to center and steps back, clasping his hands behind his back.
