Chapter 272
**Sara**
I stumbled into Tom's apartment, my arms aching from carrying what felt like half a department store. "I can't believe you bought all this."
"You mean I can't believe WE bought all this." Tom kicked the door shut behind us, juggling the remaining bags.
I made my way to his bedroom, dumping the shopping bags onto his perfectly made bed. The neat freak in him would probably have a stroke seeing his Egyptian cotton sheets buried under a mountain of designer shopping bags.
"Want something to drink?" He called from the kitchen.
"Just water." I started pulling out receipts, my eyes widening at the numbers. "I need to be clear-headed to process these totals."
Tom appeared in the doorway, Coke in hand, looking far too amused. "You're not seriously adding it all up?"
"Someone has to be the responsible adult here." I spread the receipts across his bed like crime scene evidence.
"Sara put those away." Tom wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his breath tickling my ear. "You're ruining the fun."
"Fun? These numbers are giving me heart palpitations." I picked up one receipt, squinting at the total. "Did they add an extra zero by mistake?"
"Stop." He tried to snatch it from my hand, but I ducked away.
"Oh my god." I grabbed another receipt, my eyes nearly popping out. "This dress costs more than... I can't even do the math. My brain is short-circuiting."
Tom laughed, reaching for the papers again. "Then stop trying."
"And these shoes!" I waved the receipt like a flag of surrender. "I could feed a small country for what these costs."
"They'll look fantastic with that black dress." His hands slid down my sides, trying to distract me.
I batted him away, frantically adding numbers in my head. When I reached the final total, I actually gasped. "Tom! This is... this is..."
"Perfect?" He suggested, pressing a kiss to my neck.
"Insane! This is absolutely insane." I spun to face him, brandishing the receipts like weapons. "Do you know what this adds up to?"
"Nope." He plucked them from my hands one by one, stuffing them back into the shopping bags. "And I don't care."
"But-"
"Sara." He caught my hands in his, pulling me against his chest. "It's nothing. Less than nothing."
"Less than nothing?" I squeaked. "These are designer labels. Luxury brands. Things I've only seen in magazines!"
"Exactly." He kissed my forehead. "And now they're yours."
"But-"
"No buts." He gathered the remaining receipts, crumpling them into balls and tossing them into the bags.
"You can't just-"
"I can, and I did." Tom's hands settled on my hips, his thumbs brushing against my skin. "These are yours now. End of discussion."
"But-"
"What did I just say about buts?" His fingers squeezed playfully.
I huffed, fighting a smile. "Fine. Thank you. Though I still think you're crazy."
"Crazy about you, maybe." He pulled me onto his lap, and I squeaked, surprised. His lips found mine, soft at first, then deeper. When he pulled back, his eyes had that dangerous glint. "Now, about that dress..."
"What dress?" I tried for innocence, but my smirk gave me away.
"You know exactly which dress." His hands slid up my back, making me shiver. "The black one. With the slit."
I bit my lip, pretending to think about it. "Oh, that dress. The scandalous one you insisted I needed?"
"Mhmm." His fingers traced patterns on my spine. "I think it's time for a private showing."
I slipped off his lap, gathering up the right shopping bag. "Wait in the living room."
"Is that an order?" His eyebrow arched.
"Yes." I pushed him toward the door. "And no peeking."
Tom stepped out, his laughter echoing down the hallway.
I closed the bedroom door and leaned against it, heart pounding.
I turned to the bed and rummaged through the mountain of bags until I found the one containing that infamous black dress. I pulled it out and let the silky fabric slide through my fingers. It was pure temptation stitched together with a dangerously low neckline and a slit that promised to reveal just enough leg to drive Tom wild.
I dug deeper into another bag, my fingers brushing against something lacy. I pulled out a bra that left little to the imagination—delicate black lace with tiny, strategically placed bows that barely covered my nipples. My breasts would be spilling over the top, every curve accentuated.
Next came the panties. Or rather, what little there was of them. The crotchless panties were nothing more than thin strips of lace framing my pussy, leaving me completely exposed in the middle. A tiny bow sat right above where my clit would be.
I bit my lip, feeling a rush of heat between my legs, just imagining Tom's reaction.
I quickly stripped off my clothes and slipped into the bra first. The lace tickled my nipples as they hardened under the sheer fabric.
The panties came next, sliding up my thighs with a tantalizing smoothness. When they settled into place, I shivered at how exposed I felt—how naughty it made me feel.
Finally, I stepped into the dress, carefully pulling it over my hips and smoothing it down over my curves. The neckline plunged low enough to hint at the lace beneath without giving too much away. The slit ran high up my thigh, every step promising a flash of skin.
I turned to the mirror and gasped at my reflection. This dress was designed for seduction—every inch of it screamed sex.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a pair of stilettos from another bag and slipped them on.
With one last glance in the mirror, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, my heels clicking against the hardwood. The sound echoed through the apartment, announcing my arrival like a drumroll.
"Tom?" My voice carried through the empty living room. The lights were dimmed, but no sign of him on the couch where I'd expected him to be waiting.
Had he seriously wandered off right when I was about to give him the show he'd been begging for? Men. Sometimes, they had the attention span of goldfish.
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