No doubt she was young enough that she really thought a man could just look at this stuff without it affecting him, but -
His gaze shot to Drina, and he wondered what she was making of all this. He'd been too busy looking at the material in front of her and imagining it on her body, to even take in her expression this me. Though he had a vague sense that she'd seemed embarrassed by the girl's behavior. She appeared unconcerned now, though, completely oblivious of his presence, her expression serene as Stephanie held up a black and red bustier in front of her. A bustier, for Christ's sake!
"You're so lucky to have the body to wear this stuff." Stephanie was sighing as he tuned in to what she was saying. "You have lovely breasts. I no ced when you were changing your clothes last night. I hope I have breasts like yours when I finish growing. They're full and round, just like those girls in the screamer movies."
"Dear God," Harper mu ered, forcing his eyes and ears away from the pair as his mind again filled with the image of Drina's full, round breasts in the white lace.
Was this how females talked when alone together? Commen ng on breasts and stuff as they stripped in front of each other? And if it was . . . well, that was one thing. But he wasn't a girl, and yet neither seemed troubled about having the discussion in front of him. What the hell did that say?
He supposed it said neither of them were thinking of him as a sexual male, and he guessed that was as it should be. Stephanie was too young to think of any male that way . . . he hoped. And it wasn't like Drina was his life mate. The woman was old enough she probably didn't bother much with sex despite Stephanie's efforts to gussy her up like a tart and send her out on the prowl for "hunky guys."
Harper was more than relieved when the women finished in the lingerie department and moved on to actual clothing. At least he was un l Stephanie insisted Drina try on a slinky li le black dress and model it for them in case she got the chance to go out and "kick up her heels" a bit. The dress was nothing special . . . un l Drina put it on. It looked to him as if Stephanie had given her the wrong size. Drina seemed to be bus ng out all over the place, her breasts overflowing the cups to the point of almost spilling out, and the slit up the front so high that Harper feared more than thigh would show were she to step up onto anything or sit in it.
"Perfect," Stephanie pronounced, jolting him out of his stupor.
He peered from Drina to Stephanie with disbelief. "Surely it's the wrong size?"
"Actually, it's just my size," Drina said, peering at herself in the mirror.
"But it's - " He paused, mouth open when she turned her back to him. Drina's behind was as generous as her bosom, and he couldn't help no ng the way the material clung to her curves . . . or how short the skirt was. Were she to bend over, he was sure the skirt would climb halfway up her hips. He'd barely had the thought when Stephanie said, "Maybe you should bend over, Drina. We need to be sure it's safe to do that in this dress."
Drina shrugged and bent at the waist as if to pick up something. The skirt didn't rise halfway up her hips as he'd feared, but high enough that he caught a glimpse of her white lace panties.
"It's okay," Stephanie decided. "It only shows a little panty when you do that."
"Then I won't bend over," Drina said dryly as she straightened.
Harper closed his eyes and just managed not to whimper. This was an experience he felt sure he would never forget . . . and definitely never repeat, he thought grimly. Women were crazy.
"I think we should probably get you some FM shoes to go with it when we go looking for winter boots,"
Stephanie announced, and Drina nodded as she slipped back into the dressing room to return to her jeans and blouse.
"FM shoes?" Harper asked blankly.
"It's what my sister calls high heels," Stephanie explained.
"Oh." He frowned and asked, "Is it a brand or - "
"No. It stands for something, but she'll