“Will this do?” The saleslady, Della, opens a door, revealing a dressing area that’s as big as a living room.
“Yes,” I say, and she nods politely at me.
“I will start to bring in items for you. Can I get you anything to drink in the meantime? A meal, perhaps?”
She’s able to focus on me now, which I suppose means she’s getting used to Dutch’s size. Or it might be because she sees how he handles me. His soft caresses and gentle touches show the world that he can be a big teddy bear where I’m concerned.
“Are you hungry?” Dutch asks me.
I have to physically force myself not to roll my eyes. My ass is still a little sore from not wanting to get out of bed this morning. At this point I never know if I’m being a brat because I am one, or if I do it to get a rise out of my husband. I suppose it doesn’t really matter.
“We just ate lunch,” I remind him.
I really shouldn’t have told him about how my fake mom used to be with me and food. It’s easier to think of my past parents as not real, especially when neither of my parents have tried to have any contact with me. I have to think they know there’s no way to get their hands on the money and I guess neither of them see a reason to talk to me anymore. It stings, but in the end I get Dutch. The family we’re going to build together will be better than anything I could have pretended to have with them. I wouldn’t trade my future with Dutch for all the money in the world
“You might need a snack.”
Gah, I love this man. I grab his shirt and pull, but he comes easily as he leans in and lets me kiss him. I let out a squeal when he grabs my ass and picks me up. My feet dangle a foot off the ground, and somewhere in the distance I hear the saleslady say she’ll be back as she leaves us alone.
“Enough, big guy. I’m getting my dress and you don’t get to see it.” His eyes narrow, warning me not to push it. “You said I could.” I wiggle in his hold, trying to get down.
“Fine,” he grunts, putting me back on my feet.
“Give me an hour. You can go find me a snack or call your hitman friends,” I tease, and he reaches out and smacks me on my ass.
“Be good.” He gives me a hard stare, which I think is supposed to scare me. I’m sure it would scare anyone else, but it makes my nipples harden and my panties wet.
“I promise, Daddy.” I bat my eyelashes at him, and his gaze changes. He’s about to pounce on me, and my body is getting hot for it.
“Are we ready?” The saleslady comes striding back in with a rack of garments. There’s another woman behind her pushing in a cart with even more on that one. They are all pink and fluffy, just as I requested when I called yesterday.
I’m picking out a dress so Dutch can take me out to a fancy dinner and then to a play I’ve been dying to see. I want to find the perfect dress to drive my husband crazy.
“We are,” I tell her as I push Dutch out of the room.
“You’re testing me.”
“Punish me later,” I tell him and then wink.
He gives me one last reluctant look before he’s off, and I stand there for a moment realizing this is the first time since I’ve known Dutch that we’ve been apart. I turn back to the saleslady to get started because I already miss him. I’ve felt so alone all my life, and now that I have Dutch, I know I will never feel that way again.
I smile as I try on dress after dress. When I see my reflection in the mirror, there’s no uneasy feeling like I had when I was with my fake mom. I’ve come to realize I was a pet to her. I never knew if she was going to praise me or smack me on the nose. The only thing I haven't figured out is why my fake father Tomas was always so good to me. That one still nags at me from time to time.
“I’m going to package these for you. Would you like them sent to your hotel?” Della asks.
“Yes, please. I’m going to wear this one out.” I answer as I run my fingers down the pink silky fabric. The dress is tight at the top and ties around my neck with a little bow in the back. The bottom flares out and comes to mid-thigh. Dutch is going to love it. I lean down and slip my shoes back on my feet, but when I stand up my heart stops.