The Obsessed With Him Series: Complete Box Set (A Bad Boy Romance) (44 page)

I didn’t have anything appropriate for that, either, which meant I was definitely going to have to buy something.  The thought filled me with anxiety and trepidation.

It was a big deal, going to Force with Noah for the first time.  I wanted him to be pleased with me, wanted him to think I was submitting to him in the way he required of me.  I wanted whatever I wore to be perfect.

I remembered the things he’d done to me in his office earlier, the way he’d told me he thought he was falling in love with me.  It was the first time he’d even come close to saying something like that, and I
wanted 
him to fall in love with me, wanted him to think I was perfect and wonderful and everything he’d ever wanted.

I wanted to be sexy for him.  The problem was, my body was all wrong.  I’d been able to get away with a simple black dress for the last club, but now… how was I supposed to wear anything more revealing than that?  I had hips and an ass and I was voluptuous – I didn’t hate my body, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable showing it off, either.  Especially not in a room full of strangers.  And I didn’t relish the idea of heading to some lingerie store and trying on things that wouldn’t end up fitting.

I paced around the kitchen, trying to decide what to do.

My phone rang.

Noah.

“Charlotte,” he said when I answered.  “I’m glad to hear Jared was able to convince you to get into the car.”

“It wasn’t Jared’s fault I took the subway earlier,” I said.  “You shouldn’t hold him responsible.”

“Jared has responsibilities, Charlotte.  I expect the people who work for me to live up to those responsibilities.”

“But he – ”

“Did you eat anything after your class?”

“No.”

“I’ll have lunch sent over.”

“That’s okay.  I can find something here.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“You don’t trust me to get my own food?”

“It has nothing to do with trust, Charlotte.  I’ll feel better if I know you’re eating enough.”

“I eat,” I said, wondering if he could seriously be worried about me eating enough.  I did not have the kind of body that made people wonder if I was eating enough.

“You need to keep up your strength,” Noah said.  He lowered his voice and said huskily, “Especially for what I have planned for you tonight.”

I swallowed, the anticipation flowing through me hard and strong. 

“About tonight,” I said.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Um, what… what should I wear?”

“You haven’t found something suitable?  Did the credit card I gave you not work?”

“No.  I mean, I haven’t tried it.”

There was a pause.  “I’ll pick something out for you.”

“You don’t know my sizes.”

“I know what I want to see you in, Charlotte.”

I frowned.  That wasn’t really the problem.  Men knew nothing about picking out clothes for women, especially when the woman had curves like me.

“I don’t think –”

“Charlotte,” Noah said, sounding exasperated.  “You’ve been very combative today.  Is that on purpose?  Are you angry with me for some reason?”

“No.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Then I’ll have something sent over.  I’ll be working late tonight, but I’ll pick you up at eight pm.  Please be ready.”

“I will,” I said.

There was a pause, and my heart sped up for a moment, thinking he might tell me he loved me.  Not just that he was falling in love with me, but that he actually did, truly love me. 

But all he said was, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” I said, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice.  “I’ll see you tonight.”

We hung up and I let out the breath I’d been holding.  Goosebumps had broken out all over my body.  I had a feeling tonight was going to be intense.  And I was beginning to wonder if perhaps Noah had been right about me not being ready for Force

***

The food Noah ordered for me arrived about an hour later -- fresh fruit salad, a turkey and sliced brie sandwich on multigrain bread, and chunky organic vegetable soup.

It was delicious.

The outfit he was sending over, however, didn’t arrive until around seven.

By then, I’d showered, done my make-up, and curled my hair into soft waves around my shoulders.  I was sitting in a robe in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV and trying not to freak out, when the doorbell rang.

When I answered it, no one was there.

There was a black box wrapped with a red ribbon sitting in the hallway.

I reached down and picked it up, saying a silent prayer that whatever was inside would fit me.  There was no time to get anything else, and it would be a severe level of humiliation to have to admit to Noah that the outfit he’d wanted to see me in was too small, or even worse, just simply unflattering. 

I carried the box into the bedroom and set it down on the bed.

For a moment, I just stared at it.

There was a cream-colored envelope stuck underneath the red ribbon, and I reached down and pulled it out.  My name was written across the front in swirling silver letters.  I slid my finger under the flap of the envelope.  The paper was a heavy bond, and felt smooth and creamy in my hands.

Charlotte- -

Can’t wait for tonight.

~N

It wasn’t Noah’s handwriting.  Obviously.  I hadn’t expected him to run down to a store and actually hand pick something.  He was at work.  He was busy, he had clients and meetings and all kinds of prior commitments.

But something about a shop assistant writing a note for a box that contained an outfit I was supposed to wear to a BDSM club seemed a little impersonal.  It was fine, nothing to get upset about, really, unless I wanted to seem like a spoiled child.  But it was just that little bit of distance that was always there with Noah, that little bit of separation that was always smacking me in the face – no matter what, he was always holding me at arms length.

I sighed and opened the box, holding my breath in anticipation as I pushed away layers of white tissue paper.  The box was bigger than it needed to be – the tissue was covering what seemed like just a scrap of material. 

At first, I was sure the outfit had been ripped or torn, and that I was going to have to return it.  The material seemed shredded almost.

But when I got it out of the box, I realized it wasn’t shredded at all.  It was a dress -- a body hugging black dress with tears all the way down the front, right across the middle. 

My heart sped up.  There was no way Noah could expect me to wear something like this.  My breasts were way too big to wear a dress like this – the material would hardly be covering me, and I was too tall for the length.  I’d be lucky if it covered my ass.

There was a silky drawstring bag still inside the box, and I pulled it out, hoping it was some kind of alternate outfit.  Perhaps Noah knew he’d been pushing the envelope with this one, and so he’d instructed the shop assistant to put in an extra, less revealing option.

But the bag was filled with a compliment to the dress—sheer black thigh highs, a garter belt, and the tiniest g-string I’d ever seen.  My pulse raced, thinking about putting this on, about wearing it in front of anyone except Noah.  I hadn’t worn lingerie for anyone except my college boyfriend, and even then it had only been once or twice.  I’d change into it in the bathroom quickly, then slip under the covers and shut the lights off before he had a chance to see me.

The thought of wearing these things to a club, in front of a crowd of people…I reached for my phone and thought about calling Noah, telling him there was no way I could wear this out.  But I could already imagine the conversation.  He would tell me I wasn’t ready for Force, that we could do it another time, that he wanted me to be comfortable.

And if he didn’t take me to Force, I wouldn’t be able to look for Audi James.

So I gathered up the clothes along with all of my courage, and headed for the bathroom to try them on.

***

Ten minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror.

The dress clung to my curves, the rips down the middle showing off my black lace push up bra and ample cleavage.  The bottom of the dress clung to my ass and hips, the fabric stopping mid-thigh.  If I bent over even a little bit, or if the dress pulled up even a centimeter, you could see the thin straps of my garter belt where they attached to my thigh-high stockings.

My hair was wild around my shoulders, the apples of my cheeks pink, my skin flush with excitement.  I lined my lips with a red lipstick and surveyed myself in the mirror critically.  I didn’t look bad, exactly.  It was just… I didn’t like being on display like this.  I felt like every flaw was magnified.  Everything I was self-conscious about was out there for the world to see.

I wasn’t used to this.  Even in college, when girls were going out in tight tank tops and short shorts, or halters and jeans, I was never that comfortable with my body.  The craziest I ever got was a V-neck t-shirt. My instinct was to grab a sweater and wrap it around myself so that I’d have something to cover myself with at the club.

From down the hall, I heard the sound of the door opening, and footsteps echoing across the kitchen floor.

“Charlotte?” Noah called.  “Are you here?”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.  He’d picked out the outfit, and yet… I was still afraid I wasn’t going to be enough for him.  How could I be?  I’d seen the looks women gave him -- everyone from the receptionist at the police station to the hostess at the restaurant to random, gorgeous women on the street.  Noah was beautiful, his body absolutely perfect.  It was as if God had carved him out of stone, making every line and curve and muscle flawless.  It was intimidating to feel so exposed, even more so to do it in front of someone who was so undeniably sexy.

I slipped my feet into the black stilettos that had been nestled in the box beneath the tissue paper.  They fit my feet perfectly, but the heel was so skinny I was sure it was going to snap under my weight.  But it didn’t. In fact, the shoes felt very sturdy under me, and they lengthened my legs and made my waist look tinier.

I walked toward the kitchen, my hands shaking, hoping Noah would find me acceptable.

When I got there, he was at the counter, his tie loosened around his neck and his sleeves rolled up.  He was going through a stack of envelopes, flipping through them rapidly.  He took my breath away, that’s how gorgeous he was.  Even doing something as mundane as going through the mail, he was beautiful.

He didn’t look up at first, and I jutted my chin into the air and waited.

When he finally turned, his jaw went slack.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

“Is it okay?” I asked, pulling at the bottom of the dress self-consciously.

He crossed the kitchen in two long strides, took my hands in his and looked me up and down.  His eyes lingered on my body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.  “Fuck,” he said.  “How the hell am I going to last until we get to the club?  I need to have you right here.”

He moved his hands up my arms until he was touching my face, then pulled me close and kissed me.  His kiss was soft as first, but it deepened in intensity, his tongue moving past my lips.  Shivers of anticipation shimmied through me as he pressed his body against mine.

Noah pulled back and looked at me, the pad of his thumb grazing my lower lip. “How can I let you go out looking like this?” he asked.    “Every man in that club is going to want you.”

“I doubt that.”  My cheeks warmed, and for the first time in my entire life, I felt beautiful.  Not just that feeling you got when you felt like you looked good, when your makeup was done and you were wearing a new outfit or had a new haircut.

No, this was different.  I felt
beautiful.
  I felt like
Noah
thought I was beautiful, like he really did see me as the sexiest women alive.  It didn’t matter that my stomach wasn’t flat or that my breasts were too large, or that my nose was a tiny bit crooked.

In this moment, I could tell Noah thought I was gorgeous.  And that made me feel like it was true.

“There’s just one thing… “ he breathed into my ear.  His breath tickled my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up and goose bumps break out on my arms.  His tone was casual, but his voice was low, raspy, laced with mischief. 

“What?” I asked warily.  Whatever this one thing was, I knew I might not like it.  With Noah, nothing was ever that simple.

“You’re wearing it wrong.”  His hands reached up and grabbed the top of my dress, pulling it all the way down until it was at my waist.

He reached his hands behind me and slowly, almost excruciatingly so, began unhooking my bra.  At first, I thought he was going to make good on his promise and have his way with me before we even got to the club.

But then I figured out what he was doing – he expected me to wear this dress, with the tears up the middle, with no bra on underneath.

“Noah,” I said, grabbing the cups of my bra and holding them to my breasts. 

“Shhh,” he said, taking my arms and gently placing them back down at my sides.  He carefully slid my bra off, until I was standing there with my breasts completely exposed.  Noah took a moment before replacing my dress, drinking me in with his eyes.  My nipples hardened under his gaze.

“Shit,” he said, his breathing getting faster.  “Do you know how hard it is not to fuck you right here?”  His hand reached out and caressed my shoulder, then continued down my arm, his thumb grazing my breast so softly I almost wasn’t sure he was actually touching me.

“Noah,” I said, swallowing hard.  “I can’t –”

“Shh,” he said again, his finger moving to my lips.  He reached down and pulled my dress back up slowly, until I was covered again, only this time, without a bra.

If I’d felt exposed before, it was a million times worse now.  I could feel the air on my skin, through the rips in my dress, could feel my breasts straining against the material.

“Noah,” I said again, reaching for my bra.  “I really don’t –”