Chapter 40: Shopping pt 2
Isabella reached out, her hands tracing the fabric. She ran her fingertips over the collar, feeling the light weave, the line of the waist, and the flare of the skirt. "This is... fine. It feels light."
"It’s boring," Aaron declared, tossing the hanger onto a nearby chair. He slid another one off the rack. "Here. Try this."
Isabella took the garment from his hands. Her fingers moved over the cloth, tracing the front, the waistline, and then her hands kept moving down, searching for the back. There was no fabric there. Just two thin straps.
Her face flushed bright red. "Aaron! This doesn’t have a back!"
Aaron let out a low, dark laugh that vibrated from his chest. "It’s summer, Princess. You’ll get hot."
"I am not wearing a dress that stops at my waist in the back!" she snapped, her voice rising as she shoved the silk dress back into his chest. "Are you out of your mind?"
"You’d look stunning in it," he said, his tone thick with amusement. He loved pushing her buttons. He loved watching the quiet, timid girl turn into a spitting cat the moment he teased her.
"I am not wearing it," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Pick something normal or I am going back to the car."
"Fine, fine," Aaron chuckled, reaching for another hanger. He picked out a simple, elegant dark navy dress with a soft cowl neck and an open upper back that was far more modest than the previous one, along with a few light blouses and skirts. "Take these into the dressing room."
Isabella grabbed the bundle of clothes from his arms, her cheeks still burning. "Stay right there. Don’t follow me."
"I wouldn’t dream of it," Aaron said smoothly, though his dark blue eyes tracked her every movement as she felt her way down the small hallway toward the velvet curtains of the fitting rooms.
Inside the fitting room, Isabella let out a long, heavy breath. The mirror on the wall was useless to her, but the small stool in the corner helped her keep her balance. She slipped out of her sweater and pants, reaching for the navy dress.
It slipped over her head smoothly, the silk cool against her warm skin. It fit well, clinging softly to her waist before falling down to her calves. But when she reached behind her back to pull up the long zipper, her fingers hit a snag.
The metal teeth jammed halfway up her spine.
Isabella gritted her teeth, reaching around with both hands to tug at the tiny pull tab. She continued to try but nothing. The fabric was caught right in the slide.
She stood there for two full minutes, her arms aching as she tried to fix it without ripping the expensive silk. Her face grew hotter with frustration. She refused to call Aaron. She would rather wear the stuck zipper out to the car than ask him for help.
She pushed the velvet curtain open just an inch, her voice quiet. "Excuse me? Is the shop assistant there?"
A footstep sounded outside, but before the woman could answer, Aaron’s voice cut through the hall.
"I’ll handle it," he said coldly to the employee.
Isabella heard the woman’s rapid footsteps retreating immediately.
"Wait—no!" Isabella called out quickly, shrinking back into the fitting room. "I asked for the assistant! Aaron, stay out!"
The velvet curtain was pushed aside.
The faint sound of his boots stepped onto the small rug inside the room. The curtain fell shut behind him, closing them both inside the cramped, mirror-lined space.
Isabella turned around, her hands instantly flying up to cover her chest, even though the front of the dress was fully secure. "I told you to stay outside!"
Aaron didn’t answer right away.
His eyes locked onto her. The navy dress fell away at the upper back, exposing the smooth, pale expanse of her skin from the base of her neck down to the middle of her spine.
Her skin was so white it looked like porcelain under the soft fitting-room lights, fragile and completely untouched.
A dark, heavy pulse beat behind Aaron’s eyes. His chest tightened so fast it almost hurt. He wanted to step forward, press his face against the crook of her neck, and breathe in the scent of her skin until he lost his mind.
He wanted to step up, press her against the mirror and trace every inch of her spine with his mouth, to leave dark red marks she couldn’t hide all over that flawless white skin so everyone would know who she belonged to.
He wanted to make her weak in the knees until she completely forgot about Kian.
He had waited years for this. Years of watching her from afar while she belonged to that useless bastard Kian. Now she was right here, trapped in a tiny room with him, completely at his mercy.
He had to force his hands to stay at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her.
"Aaron?" Isabella’s voice was sharp, laced with growing panic as the silence stretched too long. "Why aren’t you saying anything?"
Aaron cleared his throat, pushing the dark thoughts down into the deep, hidden corners of his mind. "My bad, Princess," he said, his voice dropping an octave, thicker than usual. "I was just admiring the view. You look even more breathtaking than I’d hoped."
"You are horrible," she whispered, her cheeks flushing deep pink. "Just fix the zipper."
"Turn around."
Isabella hesitated, but she knew she had no choice. She slowly turned her back to him.
Aaron stepped closer. The heat radiating off his large body washed over her back before he even touched her. He reached out, his long, thick fingers brushing against her bare skin as he found the small metal zipper.
Isabella flinched, her shoulders jumping at the cold touch of his fingers against her back.
"Hold still," he murmured, his breath warm against the top of her ear.
He gently worked the fabric out of the teeth, his other and resting lightly against the sides of her waist to keep her steady.
His thumbs pressed just enough into her skin that she could feel the heavy strength in his hands.
’He could snap me in half if he wanted to’, she thought, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Her breath shook in her throat as she stood completely frozen under his touch.
"Aaron..."
"I’m fixing it," he lied softly. His hand tightened on her hip, pulling her back just an inch until her shoulders touched his chest.
Isabella stopped breathing. The solid weight of him behind her made her mind go completely blank.
He let go of the metal tab and brought his hand up her back, his calloused knuckles dragging across her skin until he reached her hair.
He pulled the long strands over one shoulder, clearing her neck entirely.
She flinched as his lips hovered right against her skin, hot and dangerously close.
"You’re shaking," he rasped near her ear.
"I’m not—"
"Don’t lie." He pulled her back a little harder, squeezing her waist until there was no space left between them. "I can feel your heart pounding."
His thumb rubbed slow circles into her hip through the thin fabric. He leaned down, the rough stubble on his jaw brushing against her neck.
Isabella’s hands squeezed the wooden stool until her knuckles turned white. Her legs felt weak, like she was going to collapse right there on the rug.
"The zipper," she choked out.
"Right."