Vanilla On Top(22)
I must look unbalanced because the young man reaches out a hand in offer if I need it. “How do they feel?”
I ignore his hand and take stock of my feet, placing my weight firmly in the shoe and getting a sense of my balance. “So far, so good. They don’t hurt, but the real test will be walking in them.”
I pace the length of the store, moving my hips a little more than I normally would. I like the way I feel in them. Sleek and powerful. Turning around, I catch the man’s eyes at butt level, not near the floor on my shoes. I march back to my chair, feeling like a lioness going after prey. By the look on his face, I bet he’d be eager to be caught.
“You look good,” he says. His face freezes once he realizes what he said. “I mean the shoes, they look good on you.”
I smile and stand near the chair, testing my weight on each foot to check for pinches. “I like them, too.” I lower to the seat, offering my ankle for him to assist. “Let’s try the next pair.”
A familiar voice comes from the doorway. “I agree.” I whip around to see Tony moving straight for me, a dark look of desire and anger mixed in his expression. “You should get those.”
Chapter Six
Tony
White hot rage coursed through me when I saw that punk sales guy kneeling at Heather’s feet with a hand on her leg. Her sexy stroll across the room had me ready to run in and sucker punch the look of interest off his face.
Every fiber of my being wants to claim this woman as my own, but common sense stops me before I do anything rash.
“Tony,” her voice comes out low and breathless. “What are you doing here?” She looks down at her wrist, checking the time.
I stare at the kneeling man, letting my displeasure show. He jerks his hand off her ankle likes he’s been burned. “Just walking by,” I say, trying to calm the jealousy swimming through my system. The salesman scrambles to his feet and steps back, wisely putting distance between me and my intended target—Heather. I stalk forward. “Happened to see your familiar profile.” I smile while lowering to one knee, hoping the expression on my face is more seductive than scary-jealous-guy.
I stare into her surprised face and curve a hand possessively around her exposed calf, trailing it slowly down to her ankle. “Your hair looks great,” I say softly, resisting the urge to touch the soft curls. I want to run my hand through them and grab a big fistful while driving into you over and over again. Her eyes widen when my hand reaches the red shoe on her foot. “May I help you with the next pair?”
She shifts in the chair, an answering light of heat sparking in her eyes. “Y-yes.”
I love that I’ve flustered her, and I’m going to enjoy touching her in public even more. Let that young idiot paw someone else. “What else did you pick?” I open the next box, larger than the first, to reveal a pair of black leather boots, a shiny metal zipper running down the back. The spiked heels are silver, just like the first red pair she tried.
My eyebrows creep up my forehead over the bold choice. “Nice.” I glance at the price tag on the box. “Fifteen hundred?” I let out a low whistle. “You ladies and your shoes.” I smile to soften the comment, desperate to make this a lighthearted moment where I can tease.
“I didn’t cho…er…,” she blushes and looks away.
My earlier anger, at seeing him touching her drains out completely at her reaction. She’s so fresh and innocent, like she’s trying on shoes she’d never normally buy.
I lift the first boot and unzip the back. The metal rasps as it descends, sparking little jolts of arousal through me. Heat flushes my face as I touch her ankle and calf a little more than necessary to slide in her foot. The material folds over her cropped jeans, eventually lying flat against the faded fabric, two inches above her knee.
I reach behind the heel and tug the zipper slowly, reveling in my closeness to Heather. Shifting to grasp the pull-tab better, my mouth hovers over her thigh and I stifle the urge to place a kiss on the supple material covering her flesh. The zipper snags behind the curve of her bent knee. “I’ll pull it up the rest of the way when you stand.”
She nods, a flush creeping up her neckline. I suppress a smile, pleased she’s as affected by me as I am by her. I start the intense process again with the other boot, this time more blatant in running my hands down her calf, dragging out my movements, feeling the soft smoothness of her skin before I slide the next boot heel in place.
The rest of the store melts away while I’m lost in the sensual moment, with my black-haired vixen at the center. Once the second zipper reaches the bend, I offer Heather my hand to stand. She does, staring down at me with an expression I can’t read. I reach behind her thigh to finish zipping both boots, then quickly roll to my feet and step back.