Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(36)

Motioning with his sharp jaw, he said, “Come on, let's go inside.”

The moment we stepped through the glass doors and into the lingerie shop, I wished I'd dressed nicer. My plan for the day had been to stumble through work without falling apart. Maybe I'd order Chinese and watch something late into the night.

Those plans don't require fancy clothes, so all I'd put on was plain black pants and a loose beige sweater.

Standing under the crystal decorations and the golden lights, I felt like a fraud. Mannequins shaped like impossibly perfect people cocked their hips all over the room. They were wearing lace, leather, satin... every fabric I could have named, and many I couldn't.

“How may I help you?” The woman who approached was draped in a black skirt and a crisp blouse. Her hands glinted with jewels, while her teeth sparkled even more so.

Silver gave me a nudge. “We're looking for a few different sets, whatever your finest quality items are.”

“Oh no,” I said, glancing between them. “Just one set, and it doesn't have to be that fine.”

“It does.” He nodded knowingly at the woman. “Use your best judgment.”

“Really,” I said. “Don't listen to him.”

“I think she'll be happy to listen to me. Just like you should be, Pet.”

That shut me up; I couldn't believe he'd called me that name in front of a stranger. The woman—whose name was Donna, according to her tag—gave us both a long stare. I was amazed she was still smiling when she spoke. “Follow me, Miss. I think I can make you both happy.”

Glaring sideways at Silver, I mouthed, “Stop it.”

He just smirked even brighter.

Donna guided me through the tunnels of clothing and away from Silver. “Do you have a favorite color?”

Grazing my eyes over the lingerie, I hummed. “Green is nice, but so is purple.”

Snatching a few things off the racks, she smiled at me. “Honestly? I think white suits you better.” Then, like she was considering her own comment, she stood on her toes and looked behind me. I followed her eyes, noticing she was making sure Silver was out of earshot. “Is he your Dom?”

“My what?”

“Dom.” She said it so matter of fact. “Masters, whatever you want to call them. Guys who like to pretend they can control their women.”

My mouth gaped, no sound escaping.

Donna covered her own mouth in horror. “Oh gosh, I didn't mean that to sound bad. I've got nothing against the whole submissive sex slave kind of thing, I swear! I've even got a friend who looks for that on Tinder.”

I gestured with my hands between us, punctuating each word. “It's not like that.”

She hoisted the pile of lingerie onto her shoulder. “But he called you his pet.”

“That—that's just a nickname he has for me!” I laughed too loudly. “Like a pet name, get it? Do you get it?” My eyebrows lowered. “Tell me you get it.”

“I get it, I get it!” Her heels snapped over the floor, taking us through a curtain. Inside, there were a few stalls and a single mirrored wall. “Here, try these on. If you need anything, call for me.”

“Right. I will.” When she ducked through the curtain, I slumped sideways with a groan. Had she really called Silver my master? Even if he could control my excitement, control my breathing... my heart... or how fast or slow I climaxed...

He wasn't my f*cking master.

Moving into a stall, I shut the door. Donna had left me way too much to try on. I wasn't going to bother with all of it, honestly.

Picking through the stack, I brushed an ivory corset covered in black lace. The pattern looked like leaves that were spiraling in an autumn breeze. I was reminded of the day I'd slid into the outfit Silver had sent.

Back then, he'd been known as S to me. A figment, a phantom... a stranger. But even so, I'd dressed in that lingerie with glee.

Trembling, I started to breathe faster. Stripping out of my clothes, I hooked the corset into place. It forced my breasts up, cupping them and creating cleavage like I'd never had. The panties were boy-cut, almost slippery to the touch.

When I bent down to grab at the thigh-highs Donna had left to match, a small sound hit my ears. I'd barely straightened up when the door to my private box cracked open. Silver leaned inside, his eyes eating me up in one quick swoop. “Fucking hell,” he breathed out.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, backing up; there was no where to run. “I've barely tried anything on yet. You should wait outside.”

He closed the door, the lock clicking sharply. Advancing on me, his nostrils flared. “How could I wait when I knew you were stripping in here?” His eyes swept over me. “You're so f*cking beautiful. I can't handle it.”

“Silver,” I started to say.

His hands came down hard on the wall behind me, boxing me in. I felt the structure shake, my knees copying the motion. “I need you right now. Right here.”

I lifted my fingers, but he just linked them with his and shoved my wrists on the wall. I couldn't argue, he'd stolen my voice—and he was stealing my strength.

Silver's hands raked down the corset, his mouth tackling mine. Wet, warm lips dulled my senses. My whimper weaved through the cotton in my brain, so soft it could have been a dream.