The nightie feels weightless and soft as a cloud wrapped around me; I can feel the silk molding to my body, hugging my waist, fluttering to my bottom, where it just—ends. Exposing my ass. I can tell he’s having fun because he’s looking at the back, smiling. Then his eyes hold mine in the mirror. He looks dark, manly, and powerful, with his hands on the sides of my thighs while he sits back on the bench, looking at me in the mirror.

My body’s gone haywire but I can’t help my reactions to him and I think Sin very well knows it. Oy, me.

He pats my ass after he stands in that deliberately slow way of his. “I’d say this one for sure,” he murmurs close to my ear, brushing a hand up my side in a caress that hums through me like his whisper.

We can’t seem to take our eyes off each other as he slowly undoes the ribbon and lets it unfurl open. I’m shaking head to toe, ready to make out or even do more, when I look for the first thing to cover myself. I hop quickly into my panties as he sits down again and pulls out the huge panties.

“Go on. Turn me on.”

I hike one brow. “The only way I can try it is over my jeans.” I slip on my jeans and then slide on the humongous panties. And I’m laughing so hard at his face. Then his eyes darken and he pulls me down on his lap, and says, “These look like a dress on you.”

“A very ugly dress?”

He shakes his head, smiling.

“A very big dress?”

He shakes his head.

“Should I take a thousand of these?”

“I dig you in these, Rachel. I dig you in everything.” He looks at me with hot tenderness, stroking his hand down my back as he looks down at the ridiculous view. “The more you get, the more I get to rip off you. So yes. Take them off.” He pats my ass. “We’re getting you everything,” he says, almost to himself.

I’m laughing and tossing the huge panties at him along with the nightie and everything else.

But inwardly, I’m blushing.

Is he blind?

I looked ridiculous.

He looked at me like I was so . . . perfect.

When he brushes past me to pay, I swear that this simple intimate act of shopping together has taken my arousal to a whole other level.

When I slip on my clothes and step out, the saleslady is gushing at him and handing Malcolm her card. “Anything, you can absolutely call or email and we will be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” he absently murmurs, his gaze on me as if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and that’s where it stays as he swings the bags behind his shoulder and we head out of there.

“Saint,” I chide. “Don’t spend this kind of money on me. You’re already like the man of my dreams.”

I laugh and duck my head after the admission, blushing when I see the hot look in his eyes.

Outside, I shoot him a sidelong glance. “Do you give your black credit card to all your lady friends?”

“No, I give them the gold.”

“Malcolm!” I hit him playfully. He grabs the back of my head and leads me down the street, where a guy approaches us quite frantically.

“Saint, any comments on your father’s acquisition of Edge?”

Malcolm puts himself between me and the guy and continues walking me toward the car, silent, leaving the guy behind.

“I admire you.” I shoot him an awed glance and shake my head. “How you so easily dismiss the attention.”

Then I loosen the elastic band on my hair and pull it to my sides to use it as a curtain to hide my face. He watches me in confusion. I can feel people staring at us now, and uncomfortably, I grab the aviators he just pulled out and slip them on my face.

He looks down at me with a half smile and eyes narrowed in speculation. “Want a fake mustache with that?”

“I’m good.” I grin.

I follow him to the car and we don’t bother to set the bag in the trunk. The car is super spacious anyway. He opens the door before Otis can fully make it and we ease inside.

“Rachel . . .” He falls sober, plucking off the aviators.

I’m smiling, but I also feel ashamed. “Sin, I’m sorry.” I drop my face. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the attention you get.”

“Don’t notice it. Don’t give it even a moment’s thought. I never do.”

“Hmm.” My mouth twists wryly. “It’s not only the attention, but wondering what lies they’ll put out . . . having no control over that.” I feel my heart squeeze a little as our eyes meet, him sitting across from me, broad and muscular and drop-dead gorgeous. And I admit the closest thing I can say to I love you. “It’s hard when everyone stares at the man you want, and you want him to want nobody but you.”

He simply says two words that melt me.

“He does.”

THE TOY

When I come out in my bikini, Malcolm is leaning on the railing. He seems to be talking to some guys out on the lake. He’s in swim trunks and a polo, his wide torso stretching his shirt in a way that I can see the muscled grooves on his back as he leans forward.

I hear the guys down on the lake daring him to take out his Jet Ski and race them. They’re boasting quite loudly that they’re going to kick his ass this time. “It’s long due, you fucking bastard!”

In reply to that, Saint lets go a low, throaty laugh, and he yells down at them, “Nah, I’m with a friend today!”

“Lady friend or lady friends?” they bait. But Saint doesn’t bite, and I hear the zoom of Jet Ski motors as they leave.

Barefoot, I kind of stand a few feet away, not knowing what to say. Every muscle on his back and shoulders is visible through the stretch of his shirt as Malcolm jerks a hand over his hair and then he pulls out his phone, starts dabbling.

“Do you know everyone on the lake?”

When he hears my voice, he turns, and the smile he’s wearing fades. There’s a breeze and I hate that my nipples are quick to scream, We’re cold!

I rub my arm and he says, lowering his body sideways onto a nearby chaise, “Come sit.”

He pats the space beside him, and though he looks in control, I see him inhale, very slowly and very deeply. I take the chaise next to his instead, smiling and feeling shy.

“This is . . . well, I guess you bought me this. Thank you.”

He doesn’t look at the bikini; he’s looking at my face, almost as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “You’re welcome.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and his voice drops a decibel. “You’re making my mouth water.”