Taming Pierce

06

☆

R E E C E
06 | Shiver

"You want to buy every piece of lingerie in the store?" the store assistant, a blonde woman who looks about twenty-something asks again, blowing a bubble through her mouth.

I have seen her checking me out twice when she thought I wasn't looking ever since I entered the store. I usually relish that sort of attention but today my brain is only focused on one particular brunette walking like a temptation around my penthouse.

"Was I not clear the first time?" I throw the woman an unamused look.

She pops the bubble between two thick lips. "I got you the first time. It's just...what will you do with all that? We have store policies."

"What kind of policies?"

"We don't sell to creeps," she replies blandly, placing her elbows on the counter and forming another bubble between her lips.

"Do I look like a creep to you?"

Her eyes roam me again, a hint of pink gathering on her pale cheeks. "May I at least know who they are for? My boss will want an update when all the stocks are cleared up."

"It's for a girl. Now pack them up," I grumble, pinching the bridge of my nose because her whiny voice is getting irritating.

If it wasn't one of the branded lingerie brand shops nearby, I would have gone somewhere else. Yes, I - Reece fucking Pierce - have stooped low enough to go around buying women's innerwear around the city, all because of a runaway bride.

The worst thing is that I can't even blame her. She even asked me to allow her to buy these things herself. Except, I didn't want to take any chances with her safety. I might have been insane to make that vow to her in the first place but nothing will stop me from holding my end of the bargain.

Her end? She has to stay out of trouble and follow my every order, silently at best. Even if she brags about helping me to get in Lizzie's good graces, I sure as hell don't trust her. She can just stay in, avoid troubles and let me be not worried about her safety twenty-four seven and that would be just fine.

"Is it for your girlfriend?" the annoying woman speaks again.

This time, I give her my most serious look and she visibly swallows, murmuring something under her breath before she begins typing on her computer.

"Okay, what waist size would you want?" she asks, continuing to type away and seeming like she finally got the message to stop getting on my nerves.

"Anything from twenty-six to thirty-two," I tell her, knowing full well one of those sizes should fit Tatia.

"And..." The woman's cheeks turn red from pink as she starts. "What about the chest?"

A gloriously disturbing vision of Tatia in my shirt, her tits pressing against the buttons, a hint of cleavage visible beneath, a fine valley descending into a bottomless pit, descends into my mind. Without my will, my cock strains against my zipper, and my hands fist themselves on the counter.

"All sizes," I say, lowering my voice as I feel the metaphorical stone aligned in my throat moving.

The girl arches a brow and then types some more. "Okay, an order has been placed. We'll have it delivered to you straight. Card or cash?"

"Card," I answer, sliding my American Express to her.

She takes it and makes the payment. Once done, I take my card back and head straight for the exit, not willing to stay in this woman's heaven for longer than necessary.