Liam is waiting outside when I come out in the first piece of clothing, a pretty, floaty floral chiffon sundress that comes to my knees with an asymmetrical hem, with thin straps clinging to my shoulders and a v-neck that clings to my flat chest. His eyes widen the moment he sees me, and he lets out a soft “oh,” of appreciation.
“You look beautiful,” he says as I turn to face the three-way mirror. “The dress suits you.”
“Does it?” I turn one way and then the other, feeling prettier than I have in a long time, but still uncertain. The dress fits me perfectly, but I can’t help feeling that it’s wrong to choose things for him to buy me.
“It does,” Liam says sincerely, coming up to stand behind me. His hand brushes against the small of my back, and heat blooms over my skin where he touched me, my pulse leaping into my throat. “But you choose whatyoulike, Ana. Whatever you want.”
That statement is only underlined by the fact that a few outfits later, I realize that there’s nothing that he thinksdoesn’tlook good on me. I can see the desire in his eyes every time I step out in something new, from the other sundresses to the denim shorts and fitted t-shirts that the saleslady brought me, to jeans and a variety of tops. It really is up to me to choose, and I feel a knot of anxiety in my stomach as I look at the pile of clothing, trying to figure out what I want to pick.
In the end, we leave with the floral sundress and another one in a similar style but a mint green color, two pairs of shorts and jeans, and a small variety of tops to go with them, mostly ones that I’d noticed Liam especially liked, but a few that I’d particularly wanted, too. He puts the bags into the trunk of the car for me, and when I hesitate next to the door of the car, he motions for me to follow him. “We’re not done yet,” he says with a grin, and I flush.
“Liam—”
“I don’t want to hear any argument,” he says sternly, and I feel my stomach flutter at the sound of it. “I have the day planned for us, and all you need is to enjoy it, Ana.”
He takes my hand again as we walk down the sidewalk, and the warmth of his palm against mine sinks into my skin, spreading through me with a relaxation that I hadn’t expected to feel.All you need is to enjoy it.How do I do that, though? I try to ground myself, notice the things around me, and stop thinking about how guilty I feel that he’s spending so much money on me, especially after what happened last night. I try to think instead about how good his fingers feel wrapped around mine, the sun shining down on us as we walk, the warmth of the late spring day. I haven’t had a day like this in so long, a day that should be easy and happy and fun, and I tell myself the same thing that Liam had a moment ago.
Enjoy it.
And then we stop in front of the next store he’s taking me to, and I feel my face flush bright red all the way to my hairline.
“Relax,” Liam says teasingly as he sees me blush. “This isn’t for me, not the way you’re thinking. But I know there are things you need.”
He’s right, of course,I think as we step into the intimates store, one far fancier than anything I’ve been inside before. I only have the few pairs of panties that had come with the clothes he’d had bought for me in London and one ill-fitting bra—not that I particularlyneeda bra. Still, I’d rather have the option than not. But it’s not the practical things that my eyes wander to as we step inside and the slender blonde saleslady approaches us. It’s the mannequins with strappy lingerie and draping teddies, lace and silk, and velvet and leather, all of it luxurious and intimate and indulgent. I can feel the tension in the air as Liam follows my gaze.
“I meant what I told you,” he says in a low tone meant only for me. “I won’t be inside of you again until I know it’s only me that you’ll be thinking of. But buy whatever you want, Ana. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll even wear it for me.”
I can hear the husky desire in his tone, the way his voice thickens as he says it, and it sends a shiver of desire straight down my spine.
“I’ll wait out here,” Liam says, sinking down into one of the red velvet chairs. “Get whatever you like.”
I know I should just pick out the basic things that I need. But I can’t help running my fingers over the silky nightgowns, looking at the lingerie sets that are nothing but scraps of lace and complicated straps, the corsets bookended by barely-there bras and garter belts. One, in particular, catches my eye, a light pink and white set. The panties are white lace, so small that they cover only the most necessary bits. The bra is the same, with just enough lace to cover the nipples with a cutout between that and the straps that go over the tops of the mannequin’s breasts. There’s a pink and white underbust corset, a pink lace garter belt with leather straps that go around the thighs, and satin clips hanging down. The entire outfit is finished with a pink collar and a white gold ring hanging from it.
I don’t need it. Just the thought of putting it on makes me blush and shiver, unable to imagine boldly wearing something like it for Liam. I have everything I need—bras and panties, camisoles and boyshorts and silky pajama shorts for sleeping, even a couple of teddy-style nightgowns that I couldn’t pass up. But with every item that I pick up and add to my growing pile, I can’t stop looking at that set, something about it drawing me in every time my gaze flicks that way.
When I’ve added the last of my items to the pile, Liam gets up and comes to the register to pay. He looks at the pile of intimates, and I feel myself blush again, part of me wondering if I’ve picked out too much. When he frowns, my heart almost stops in my chest, a flood of guilt washing over me.
“I’m sorry, I can put some things back if I picked out too many—”
“No, it’s not that.” Liam nods towards the mannequin with the pink and white set. “We’ll take that too, please.”
“Liam—”
“I can tell that you want it.” His voice lowers, and I can see the heat in his green eyes, at war with his next words. “You don’t have to wear it for me. You don’t even have to ever put it on. But I can see you want it, so it’s yours.”
I’m speechless as the saleslady rings up the purchase. That one lingerie set is more than I’ve probably spent on underwear in my entire life, much less the rest of the things added to it. Still, Liam doesn’t so much as flinch as he hands over his credit card.
“Lunch next,” he says, taking us out to the car and adding the new bags to the cluster of them in the trunk. “And then I have an appointment for you at the salon.”
“What?” I blink at him, but he just opens the door for me, sliding in afterward.
“What’s your favorite food?” he asks me, but my mouth is still hanging open, unsure of how to take this new development.
“Sushi it is, then,” Liam says, tapping on the divider between the driver and us. The car pulls out into traffic, and I have a moment to gather myself before his gaze returns to mine.
“I don’t really know,” I tell him honestly. “Being a ballerina—everything I ate was strictly regimented. Even when I went out, I drank things like vodka and diet tonic, nothing with calories. Having a favorite food isn’t something I really thought about. And then—everything Alexandre ever fed me was delicious, but he chose it all.”
Liam looks at me curiously. “Have you had sushi?”