Page 24 of Under His Touch

“Do you have the time?”

I check my watch. “I have a couple hours.”

She grabs her purse from beneath her desk. “Then we should get at it.”

“What did you have in mind?”

She tosses her purse over her shoulder and gives me a once-over. “Casual pants, shoes, sweater. A little more of a relaxed look, I think. Why don’t we hit Fifth Avenue?”

“Shopping is not my favorite thing, especially on Fifth Avenue.”

She plants her hand on her hip and arches a brow. “Alec—”

“Fine, fine,” I say, and hold my hands up in surrender. “You’re the boss,” I say, following her out of her office.

“We’re off to do some shopping,” she says to Amanda, and I tuck the brochure into my pocket.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon,” I say, and open the door for Megan. She squeezes past me, and her warm scent reaches my nostrils. I breathe her in, and work to marshal my desire as I step outside and guide her to my vehicle.

Two hours later, shopping bags in hand, she points to one more store. “Let’s go in there,” she says.

I hold the bags up; I’m so over this. “You don’t think I’ve bought enough?”

She pouts, and her pink painted lips pucker as she blinks up at me. “Just one more,” she says, her voice a pleading whisper, and I shake my head, unable to say no when she begs like that. Fuck, what I’d do to hear her beg like that in bed, let me know all the dirty things she’d like for me to do to her. We head inside some new trendy store and she gasps when she sees a blue sweater on sale. To her it’s clearly something special; to me, it’s a blue sweater.

“Try this on for me.” She grabs a casual dress shirt from the shelf. “This, too.”

“That’s it,” I say, giving her a warning glare. “No more after this.”

“Go,” she says, and waves me toward the changing room as she browses a few more items. I reluctantly walk to the back of the store and the sales clerk opens the room for me. I slip out of my suit jacket, unbutton my shirt and pull on the sweater.

“Can I see?” Megan asks.

I open the door, and her gaze falls over me. She makes a little noise, and I’m almost positive I see desire in her eyes. “That’s it. That’s the sweater you’re going to wear tonight. Along with the new boots and chino pants. It’s perfect.” Her eyes move to mine, and hold for a second too long. “There’s no way schoolteacher Danielle won’t fall for you,” she says, almost regretfully.

“That’s not really the goal.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You know what I mean.” She steps into the change room with me. “Hang on,” she says, then puts her arms around my neck to adjust the sweater on my shoulders and tuck the tag in. Her hair tickles my face, and when I catch her honeyed scent again, my traitorous hands slide around her waist, pull her against me. She gives a small gasp, and when she lifts her face to mine, confusion mixed with need brimming in her dark eyes, I can no longer fight the battle. I dip my head, press my lips to hers.

At first her mouth is pinched tight, and I’m about to pull back, curse myself for my weakness, but then she softens against me, and I slide my hands down, run my palms over the curve of her gorgeous ass. She moans into my mouth, and I slide my tongue to hers, taste her warm sweetness. My cock grows in my unforgiving dress pants, and she moves against me, massaging my dick with her stomach. I back her up, push her against the mirror and practically dry hump her right there in the changing room with the damn door open.

Someone clears their throat and we break apart, fast. I spin and tuck her behind me as I come face-to-face with the sales clerk. “Perhaps you two should get a room,” he says, and I nod.

“Sorry about that.” I grin at him. “She liked my sweater. A lot.”

“You’ll be taking it, then?” he asks, and folds his arms, his foot tapping a steady rhythm on the carpeted floor.

“I’ll take ten. Mix up the colors,” I say. “Toss in a couple of the dress shirts, as well.” My way of apologizing for our inappropriate behavior.

A smile lights up his face. “You got it,” he says, and steps away. I turn back to Megan. Her hands are covering her face and she’s peaking at me through her spread fingers.

“Oh, my God, how mortifying.”

“It’s fine, and don’t worry. He’s getting a big commission because of our PDA.”

Her hands fall, and her eyes narrow. “Why did you do that?” she asks, her brow crinkled. “Why...why did you just kiss me?”

“Because I have a date with a ‘girl-next-door’ schoolteacher,” I say, doing air quotes around the words.

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