He supposed it didn’t help that he’d accidentally seen just how round and full those jiggling breasts would be if she were to crawl naked into his lap. The image of her on her hands and knees on the snowy driveway, top gaping and revealing her lovely curves, now flashed into his mind again.
Sighing, Harper forced his eyes from Drina’s behind and up to her face with some effort as she paused to examine some item of clothing they’d approached. From the glimpse he’d got of her face in the rearview mirror, Drina hadn’t looked nearly as affected by the image Stephanie had painted of them as he had. If anything, her expression as she’d peered toward Stephanie had been rather confused, though he wasn’t sure why.
“What do you think, Harper?”
Blinking, he shifted his attention to Stephanie and raised an eyebrow uncertainly. “What do I think of what?”
“Of these,” Stephanie said with a laugh, and held a pair of panties in front of Drina’s groin. They were red silk with black lace trimming. “Do you think men would find her attractive in these? There’s a matching bra too.” She held that up in front of Drina’s breasts next and peered at the effect with a tilted head. “I think they’re gorgeous, but Drina says the material of the bra is too flimsy and her nipples would show through when it’s cold. Do men mind nipple bumps?”
“I—” Harper stared, his mind suddenly on hiatus as he imagined Drina in the outfit, her nipples erect and pressing the material outward. “Don’t—”
“See, he said ‘I don’t.’ I told you men don’t mind nipple bumps,” Stephanie said with a laugh, and tossed the bra and panties into the cart.
Harper stared helplessly at the scraps of material and shook his head. He hadn’t meant he didn’t mind nipple bumps. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he’d meant. Please don’t do this to me, maybe. The girl was . . . well, he didn’t know what to think of Stephanie. She had been quiet and sad-looking when she’d first arrived in Port Henry, but had blossomed a bit under Elvi’s and Mabel’s attention before they’d left. However, she appeared to have really come out of her shell with Drina’s arrival and was being rather precocious. He didn’t think she had a clue how her suggestions and words were affecting him, though. 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 time. 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 noticed 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 muttered, 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? Commenting 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 until Stephanie insisted Drina try on a slinky little 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 . . . until Drina put it on. It looked to him as if Stephanie had given her the wrong size. Drina seemed to be busting 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.