Page 68 of Last First Date

She passed me several items, lacy provocative things that would only spark my fantasies even more. I grabbed them without hesitation. My mind was already wandering to the next time I’d get to see her in or out of one of the tantalizing pieces.

I walked over to the counter, with the thrum of desire still coursing through my veins. The shop assistant, an older woman with a knowing smile plastered on her face, started to ring up the sale. I prayed she didn’t know what happened in that room. Not because I was embarrassed, but I didn’t want Waverly to feel like she had done something wrong.

I could see the salesperson’s eyes flicking between the two of us, likely trying to decipher the nature of our relationship. She must have seen countless couples come through here. Did we look like one? Did she detect the heightened sexual tension thrumming between us?

Waverly was standing a few feet away, looking slightly embarrassed. I shot her a smile, making sure she knew it was all okay. With her purchases in hand, we left the store and stepped into the cold of the outdoors. It was exactly what I needed to get my libido under control. I took a few deep breaths.

“Where to next?” she asked.

I looked up and down the street. “I think Bloomingdale’s is a good choice. We can get everything you need.”

“I’ve never been to Bloomingdale’s,” she said, smiling.

“I can’t say I’ve been in a long time. I did some modeling for them in my early days.”

As we walked, my mind raced, replaying all of it. The aftermath of that dressing-room encounter left me in a state of internal chaos. The embarrassment coursed through my veins as I recalled the unexpected intensity of my reaction to seeing Waverly in that red lace lingerie. I’d never been one to lose my composure, especially over something as trivial as clothing. Yet, here I was, grappling with the vivid image etched into my mind. She had looked so fucking hot.

Waverly’s presence beside me was a constant reminder of the electrifying tension that now lingered in the air between us. There was tension before when we kissed, but this was different. I literally had the taste of her in my mouth and I craved more.

We were in search of the perfect gown and shoes for Waverly. I had never actually shopped for a dress. This was all new to me.

“Maybe we should get some help,” I suggested. “I don’t know shit about colors and all that crap.”

She laughed as she held up a black gown. “Me either. I buy what looks comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” I grinned, eyeing her from the corner of my sight. “In this case, it’s about looking unforgettable. People are going to be looking at you.”

Her cheeks turned pink at my words, and she hid behind the black gown. It was a beautiful dress, but it didn’t do her justice. It didn’t highlight her curves or the soft tones of her skin. Waverly deserved more than just comfortable.

“I think I’ve found something,” I called out as I moved toward a rack of exquisite gowns, each more breathtaking than the last.

The moment my fingers brushed against a particular dress, I knew that was it. Made of shimmering red fabric, the dress was a spectacle of understated elegance, with thin straps that formed a delicate V at the back, and a fitted bodice that would accentuate Waverly’s lovely curves. The skirt flowed out in soft waves, brushing the floor with a subtle train trailing behind. It was romantic, sensual, and had enough dramatic flair to make her stand out. The red made it perfect for a Valentine’s Day event.

“Try this on,” I insisted, handing her the gown. Our fingers brushed against each other’s and the spark it created made me draw in a sharp breath.

She looked doubtful as she held up the dress against her body. “Do you think so? I mean, it’s pretty but it’s also very bold. That’s a lot of exposed skin.”

“I think you can pull it off,” I countered with a reassuring smile. “And remember, we want unforgettable.”

She returned my smile cautiously and, with the dress in tow, disappeared into the fitting room. I knew better than to offer any assistance. The lingerie dressing room had been private. This one was not.

My heart hammered in anticipation as I waited for her to reemerge. The image of Waverly clad in the red lace lingerie from earlier refused to leave my mind. If she looked that breathtaking in intimate wear, what would she look like in this elegant piece?

“I don’t know about this,” she called out from behind the door.

“We already know you’re not the best judge,” I joked. “I think I should be the judge of what looks good. I’m the former model after all.”

I heard her laugh from behind the door. “Fine, but I’m telling you, it’s very revealing.”

“Just come out,” I said.

The door opened and she stepped out. I forgot to breathe. Waverly was fucking gorgeous. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t really seen it before. Her outspoken nature and refusal to conform to my expectations had blinded me to the beauty of the woman that had worked alongside me for weeks without me really seeing her.

I nodded approvingly, momentarily caught off guard by the realization that I was not just assessing the gown. I was appreciating the way it enhanced Waverly’s presence. “It looks great on you,” I replied with a lump in my throat. “Really hot.”

Waverly smirked with a playful glint in her eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s a fashion critique or a personal compliment.”

Caught in the act, I chuckled. “Maybe a bit of both.”