She felt him before she saw him, the slightest touch on the back of her bare arm, the frisson of desire that resulted as his blunt, callused fingertip caressed her elbow. Shivers, goose bumps, pleasure, all in that single moment. He followed her out of the elevator into the designer level of the department store, keeping just close enough to stop any other man from approaching her, but far enough away that she had to strain to see his expression.

But he liked to keep her on edge, to make her experience him as he wished, liked to make her think. She glided over to the racks of dresses, her fingers touching and releasing fabrics, testing them, as she considered each and every garment, how it would look, how he would look at her when she paraded in front of him.

She paused at a pale grey cocktail dress made of chiffon and silk with flowers cascading down from one shoulder to the waist. The chiffon felt fine and airy, the silk deceptively strong. He drew closer as she fingered the silk, his fingers now under her skirt and tracing the curve of her buttock. Deliberately, she arched her back, heard his breath catch as his palm curved around her ass. She’d worn thong panties and they were already damp.

Her nipples hardened as he traced the silk of her panties in the same careful way that she’d traced the silk of the dress.

“Would you like me to start you a fitting room?”

The sales assistant’s question made her look up.

“Sure. Thanks. Let’s start with this.” She handed over the grey silk confection and the sales assistant walked away.

He patted her ass, stepping back as she changed direction and headed for another group of dresses, this time in vibrant reds and pinks. This time she spotted the one she liked immediately—a deep red-blue jersey with a draped skirt and a V-neck that would showcase her rather deep cleavage.

“Nice,” he murmured behind her. His fingers stroked between her ass cheeks, plucking at her thong, pulling it up, so that it pressed against her already needy clit.

She made a little sound of pleasure as she found her size in the red dress and beckoned to the sales assistant.

“This one too, please.”

“That’s a great dress.” The woman’s gaze flicked between them. She supposed they were an unusual couple. Him in his cowboy gear, and her dressed up like a secretary, which she was sometimes, but not today. They both looked out of place in the upmarket store. “Are you attending a special event?”

“You could say that.” She smiled at the sales assistant and continued shopping, her sex aching now, wanting more of his touch, knowing he wouldn’t give her more than he wanted to give, that he loved to make her wait. It was a game they’d played many times, and one she never tired of.

Over to the black dresses now, shorter, sexier, tighter, but he wasn’t a man who demanded that in a woman. He’d rather she chose something that made her feel good. The one she picked up looked simple on the hanger, but she knew that it would glide over her curves in a way that made him ache to touch them.

He pinched her ass, just hard enough to get her attention, to know that there would be a little red mark on her skin for him to find later to kiss better.