Page 105 of Whirlwind

“Of course.” She eyed my figure and immediately turned and gathered items from all over the store. She led us into a small dressing room lounge and Beck sat down, his legs stretching out. Someone handed him a glass of wine, and he leaned back and watched as the woman waited for me to strip down to my underwear, which luckily was brand new and not embarrassing.

She helped me get into a gray-blue, silk one-piece that combined full, flowy pants with slits up the sides of the leg, and a blousy top that had a tie only on one shoulder.

“It is beautiful on you. Do you like it?” She smiled at me in the mirror and glanced at Beck.

“Stunning,” came his deeper than usual voice, and I caught his intense gaze in the mirror. My nipples hardened painfully at his tone.

“I like it very much,” I murmured.

I tried on a mini-dress that hugged my curves without being vulgar in the least. It was some kind of material I’d never experienced before with tiny crystals on it.

“We’ll take that too,” he said.

“I’ve brought bathing costumes as well, if you’d like to see.” The saleswoman held up a selection of bathing suits.

I tried on several bikinis and then a one-piece that looked more like a complicated two piece. “Oh my.” I fingered the sleek, beige-colored material. It was the new nude look. I tried it on. My body was fastened in bands of a sheer, bronzy-beige, elastic fabric.

In the mirror, Beck’s gaze was riveted on my ass. “That one.”

“This one,” I murmured.

There were bleached denim jeans that were cut off just above the ankle, with rips here and there over the thighs, which she topped with a brightly colored, off the shoulder, baggy, silk blouse. The fabric ran over my skin and a thrill curled up my spine at the softness of it.

“I’d like to try on a pair of those linen trousers I noticed up at the front,” Beck said to the woman.

The sales associate returned with the trousers as well as linen dress shirts and open neck T-shirts in a silky fabric. Elegant and unfussy. Casual but sophisticated. Beck Lanier in the Mediterranean.

“I think we did good, huh?” He said as we took in our reflection in the large mirror.

“I love it all.”

Beck turned to the saleswoman. “Could we wear one of the outfits now? We’re on our way to a dinner party and these are perfect.”

“Absolutely.” She beamed. She was very pleased with us.

“We’ll change now.” Beck closed the door of the dressing room after her.

“I’m going to need some kind of special bra with this one, though—” I held up the outfit with the slits.

“No, you don’t. Your gorgeous tits deserve to have some freedom. Where better than Mykonos?”

“Is that a dare?”

“If you want it to be. Yes.”

I took off my bra and tossed it in the corner with the clothes I’d worn. I stepped back into the pantsuit and pulled it up.

“Wait—” Beck pushed the sleeves down and cupping a breast, brushed my already hard nipple with his teeth.

I hissed. “What are you doing?”

“All night, with that silk on your bare skin, I want your tits to remember me as they get rubbed by this fabric, and that’ll keep them aching all night for my mouth and my teeth until I can get to them again.” His fingers stroked my soft flesh, and he brushed at my nipples with his thumbs. My breath cut.

He went behind me and smoothed the one strap of the top on my shoulder. His fingers lightly traced over my hard nipples showing through the fabric, and a growl-like sound rumbled in his throat. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He pressed his lips against my cheek, our gazes glued to our reflection in the mirror. “Do you feel good?”

We look good.

“Uh-huh.”

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