It was a goodwowtoo. The breathless sort. Like I’d taken his away.
I won’t lie. Brock had absolutely been on my mind as I scanned through Cam’s options, as I wondered what would be most flattering to my figure, be appropriate, but still sexy.
I’d settled on a floor-length—obviously—gown in a green so deep it was almost black. It was off the shoulder with a deep slit between the breasts that gave the appearance of cleavage, but had a modesty panel blocking you from actually seeing anything. It was high-waisted, tight through the hip, then flared out into a mermaid hem from the knee.
“You stole my line,” I said, giving him a soft smile.
“You don’t do that enough with your hair,” he told me, taking a single step forward. Almost like he didn’t trust himself to get any closer than that.
I almost never had my hair down, in fact. Having it up meant it was a little more fuss-free when I was working long days at the office.
Then when I got home, I couldn’t take it down because it had that thick crease from being back all day, so I tended to just continue to keep it up.
Sure, an updo would have been perfectly appropriate for the benefit as well, but I’d carefully washed, dried, and styled my hair instead, wanting a soft and feminine look for the evening.
I never went crazy on makeup, but I did some mascara and light liner around my eyes as well as a slight tint to my lips. And maybe a swipe of blush just to warm up my cheekbones.
I opted out of a necklace, but went with simple drop earrings with two-carat teardrop emeralds.
Understated and classic was what I was going for.
There were no rings or bracelets either.
Just a spritz or two of my signature perfume.
That was it.
“I have a problem,” I told him.
“That no one is going to be able to look at the presenter with you in the room?” he asked, giving me another quick once over that had my belly flip-flopping.
“Well, yes, there is that,” I said, smiling. “But, actually… this is not a bend forward sort of dress,” I said, pressing a hand between my breasts where my boobs were just barely staying contained in their strapless bra. It was a big ask for them to stay put, and they were behaving so far. I didn’t want to push it. “But I didn’t put on my shoes beforehand,” I told him, waving over toward the box.
I didn’t technically need new shoes for the event, especially seeing as no one was going to see them. But Cam, well, we shared that footwear fetish. He told me that he’d seen them and knew instantly that I had to have them.
I hadn’t even looked at them yet.
“Well, if this isn’t just a real-lifeCinderellamoment,” Brock said with a boyish smirk before he turned to fish the shoes out of the box, pulling out the velvet wedge put inside to keep the shape, then coming over toward me with them.
Cam was right for choosing them.
They were nude Louboutin with a scalloped edge that was to die for.
Then I watched as Brock went down on his knees before me, making my mind flash with a bunch of vivid, steamy images.
He set the shoes down as he reached to bunch up my skirt, then reached for my ankle, drawing it up.
I was balancing just fine.
But did I reach out to place a hand on his shoulder anyway?
I sure as hell did.
His hand gently held the back of my ankle as he reached for the shoe, then carefully slid my foot into it, before settling my foot back down.
This time, I genuinely did need his support to balance on my left foot as he lifted my right, so my fingers dug into him a bit as he continued the process.
It was an unexpectedly intimate moment, and I felt oddly buzzy by the time he was done, and looked up at me.