Hoax Husband - Candice M. Wright Page 0,46
me. He lifts his hand and indicates with his finger for me to spin. So I do, slowly turning in a circle so he can get the full effect. I feel his eyes burning their way through the thin material of the dress, making me feel like a goddess.
“Yes,” he states, his voice a touch deeper than usual. I look over as I’m about to close the door and grin as I catch him adjusting himself.
“Oh, that looks fabulous. Here, try these too.” Mrs. Jones appears out of nowhere, handing me a pile of silky underwear before turning me back around, helping me with the zipper at the back of the dress without me having to ask. “There, now I'll give you some privacy. I’ll be out front if you need anything else. There is a help button just beside the door if you’d like me to swap the size or find anything else for you,” she tells me kindly.
“Thank you, you’ve been so helpful. I really do appreciate it.”
She squeezes my hand before leaving, nodding her head in Asher’s direction as I lock myself inside the changing room once more.
Laying the silky bundle of delicates gently on the chair in the corner, I strip out of the dress and swap it for the one that caught my eye in the shop window.
I fall in love with it the second I slide it on over my head. It’s knee-length and has a 50s style pinup look to it. The silky material ties behind the neck, pulls in tight at the chest and waist, and flares out at the hip. The black material is layered underneath, giving it a poofy effect. Each layer is multicolored, making it look like a rainbow is wrapped around my hips but only peeking through as the dress swishes when I walk.
Apart from where it ties behind my neck, the dress is completely backless until it hits the top of my ass, making me feel sexy.
I take a deep breath, feeling beautiful but, most importantly, still feeling like me.
Opening the door, I nearly jump out of my skin when I find Asher leaning against the frame instead of sitting in the chair.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I stutter, but Asher doesn’t reply, taking a step back to drink in all my glory.
“This is the one. If I had to design a dress to illustrate you best, it would be exactly like this,” he says firmly as he reaches for me, wrapping a hand around my waist.
When his palm encounters nothing but bare skin, he smiles and turns me, finding my back exposed. He trails his fingers down my spine, his gentle touch eliciting a shiver.
“You'd better get changed before I do something we really shouldn't be doing in an upmarket boutique,” he whispers huskily, closing the door behind him before I can protest.
I turn to get undressed when my eyes fall on the pile of undergarments Mrs. Jones brought in and a wicked idea springs to mind.
Stripping off the gown, I drape it on the hanger carefully, taking in my body for a moment in the mirror. High firm breasts, toned stomach, and long shapely legs, ink adorning fifty percent of my body. I have my mother's figure, but I also work hard to maintain it.
Slipping off my underwear, I paw through the new items until I find a set I like and snap off the labels so they can be scanned at the counter later.
I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn't intend to buy this stuff, but with Asher trying to play it cool, I can't help but poke the beast to get a reaction.
I slip on champagne silk French-style shorts trimmed with black lace and a matching lace bra that does fantastic things for my chest. Turning, I see the bottom of my cheeks peeking out from under the lace, enticing but not too much, leaving just enough to the imagination.
I swing the door open and lean against the frame provocatively as I take in Asher, who is now sitting in the chair again, talking quietly on his phone. He jolts when he notices me, his mouth falling open for a second before he mumbles a “gotta go” into the phone and hangs up, stalking toward me.
“You don't play fucking fair, Skittle,” he groans before snagging my lips with his, pushing me into the changing room until my back collides with the mirror. He pulls away long enough to lock the door, then he's