Page 138 of Accidental Husband
He nodssure.
I hug the clothes to my chest.
Slowly, I move through the store. Past the saleswoman and the chatty customer. Past two girlfriends comparing black slips. Past a woman perusing the bras.
There. The dressing room is open. Empty. No sign of saleswomen anywhere.
I take a deep breath. Exhale slowly.
One step at a time, I cross the room. Open the door. Move into the stall on the far right. Click the lock.
Shit, I need it unlocked.
I turn the handle. Take a seat. Rest my back against the wall.
Okay, carefree sex maniac Jules is morenervous yet horny Julesin the sober light of day.
But there's that saying about fear and bravery.
You have to be afraid to be brave.
Okay, making my husband come in a dressing stall isn't exactly the definition of courage. It's certainly not what people mean when they throw around the word hero.
But it's really fucking hot.
My sex clenches at the thought of Griff's low, deep groan.
I can't stay quiet. But he…
Well, he has practice with this kind of thing.
And I'm the one in control. I'm the one leading. I'm the one driving him out of his mind.
Fuck, that's really fucking hot.
I pull my crop top over my head. Do away with my bra. Cross my legs.
I'm topless in a dressing room waiting for my husband.
God, it still sounds so strange—Griffin is my husband—but it's appealing too. It's scary how appealing it is.
I want to believe this is possible.
It's batshit crazy.
But, God, I want it to be possible.
My gaze shifts to my reflection—the walls are covered in long mirrors. The sight of my flushed cheeks and bare chest make my body buzz.
There's something so hot about watching.
I really fucking like it.
The door creeks open.
Griff steps inside and clicks the lock.
His eyes travel down my body slowly, like he's savoring every inch. "Fuck, Jules."
