Free Vanilla On Top by C.J. Ellisson Page A

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.
    Some of the coyness I witnessed earlier is missing from her as she struts back and forth on the carpet, testing out the sexy boots. The heels shape her calves and raise her firm butt, forcing her onto her toes. My eyes trail from the glint of metal on the zipper, up the snug fitting jeans, to linger on the overall enticing image she makes in the boots. I’m buying them for her even if she doesn’t want them. I’d love to see her wearing them out for an evening, or staying in with nothing else on.
    “They feel fine,” she says while lowering herself once again to the chair. “But I don’t think I’ll wear them much.”
    A naughty flash singes my mind: her on my bed wearing these boots, legs in the air, spread wide, while I thrust into her…a chill courses down my back. “You never know.” I smile at her while she reaches to unzip them. “You may wear them more than you think.”
    “I’ll think about it.”
    “Let me buy them.”
    She looks up from her task, surprise etching her features. “What?”
    “And the first pair, too.”
    She shakes her head. “I don’t need you to buy shoes for me, Tony. I’m perfectly capable of purchasing them myself.”
    Crap, this isn ’ t going as I ’ d intended. What woman wouldn’t let a man she’s dating buy something for her? “But I want to,” I say, looking toward the salesman for assistance.
    Sensing an imminent sale, he rushes forward to claim both pairs before she can utter another