39 | 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝐷𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑊𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠

"Rule number one, men are attracted to the color red like a moth is to light."

"So... I do get this is what you're saying?" I scrutinized the cropped red tank in my hands, holding it by the curvature of the hanger. All I could make out was straps of fabric, not understanding how it could form a presentable shirt. "I just think it's showing too much skin and I mean, my reputation has done plenty of that already."

"Oh, I've heard," Victor drawled, scanning the store before grabbing at my hand and leading me out of the store. Accidentally, I released the hanger in my hands and the shirt splayed onto of perfume bottles as we exited the store. We walked into the gray and white hallway of the mall which distributed numerous skylights and rivers of sunlight. There was remarkably high ceilings that I kept looking upwards at.

He snapped his head from one side to the other, unable to settle for one particular store. "Men like lace, high heels, anything complicated basically. It's like a challenge for them."

"This is a lot of work," I huffed.

"You're perfect the way you are, Rye Bread, but we gotta spice things up." His tone sounded optimistic and it almost made me believe that this was going to work. "But remember, we're not changing you, we're just adding a few outfits to make you feel good."

While weaving through a few clusters of people, I say, "no, I want to look hot and attractive. I need him to fall in love with me." I bobbed my head proudly, taking a few confident steps closer to him and looking up. "You know all the secrets on how to impress a guy."

"Well--" He halted his words. "I know all the steps on how a girl impresses a guy," he corrected. "Oooh, let's go to this store!" He pointed to a pink and white alcove. "This looks girly."

I rolled my eyes as we continued laughing quietly to ourselves. We entered the white fluorescent store in search of something red, strappy, or anything complicated to possibly impress Sullivan. I began rummaging through the racks when he tugged on the loose clothing around my wrist to get my attention like a child would. "I think you'd look pretty in that."

I gazed up and saw what I was holding, it was a yellow fringe tube tank. My mother would kill me, but I nodded and took it off the rack. "If you think Sullivan would like--"

"I like it," he concluded, then shrugged. "Rule number two," he started again louder than the previous sentence. "Men like it when you don't base all your priorities around them, meaning that each decision you make is for yourself and only for yourself."

I look at the clothing in my hands. "Did I not just pick this up because it was your idea? Is this a test?" I widen my eyes and he keeps looking at me. "Are you testing me to see if I will take your advice and not base everything I do off what you say so therefore, I return the shirt?"

He firmly replies, "no, you're wearing that. It's different when it's me who's ordering you around, I'm your teacher." He gives me a quick lopsided grin and drifts off through the racks.

"Vicky?" I asked, trudging through the store in pursuit of following him. "I've always wondered this... but do you have any friends?" I ask abruptly.

"Wow--well, if you didn't want to hang out with me--" He sarcastically bit.

"No." I chuckled as I spoke. "It's just, since we've officially become best friends, I need to know my competition," I reasoned, pivoting to him with the yellow tube tank in hand. That wasn't true at all though. I'd started to realize that I never actually saw Victor with anyone but hook-ups.

He lowered his gaze and slouched his shoulders. "I've had friends, but since moving to Wyoming, I haven't really hit it off with anybody in particular. I talk to people, have a few acquaintances," he listed off, "but there's nobody that I could see myself hanging with outside of certain classes--"

"What about me?" I rocked on my toes.

"What about you?"

I smiled as I said, "you didn't know that you were going to be best friends with me. In fact, I kind of just came into your life and stayed till you accepted that I wasn't leaving."

He breathed in my words slowly, laughing and scratching the back of his neck with awkwardness in his stance. "I think I needed you; a person who stubbornly and persistently wanted to be in my life. I mean, just imagine if our story never happened?" He paused and raked through the clothing items. "You would still be getting called Mia by Sullivan--"

"You remember that?" I laughed at my own rhetorical question.

"Of course I do!" He grabbed a red fitted shirt and shoved it into my chest cavity. "This will make you look fucking hot--I mean, you already are--"

"Oh, shut up," I mused, walking through some of the aisles. "This is an odd question, but do you ever want to have a girlfriend?" I gazed up, holding onto the increasing amount of fabric in my hands while having to keep my eyes trained on his for the entirety of the time.

"You keepin' your options open?" he offered, but upon seeing my persistence take form into playful-annoyance, he ceased his steps and became serious, allowing his fingers to run the across the clothes soundlessly. "I don't see myself settling down, Rhy. I mean, not until I can establish my family and who I am--as personal as that sounded--"

"No, I love when you open up to me," I assured him, a warm, invisible embrace folding over my body. Typically, he hoarded his thoughts to himself and I was awaiting the day I got to organize and peer through them greedily (in a respectful way, of course). "Now that I'm a taken woman," I started with sarcasm etched into my words, making him situate his hand on my shoulder and shove me childishly out of the way. "I need to know the essentials."

"Of what?" he urged, raising a brow suspiciously.

"What do guys think?" I looked at him hopefully and he walked past me to an ivory and pink knee length dress. This was an age old question that some guys don't even know. Here I was, prying open the can of worms and discovering the embedded truth to society.

"Guys have a thought process that resembles a train wreck."

Huh, not what I anticipated.

He laughed to himself and admitted, "we start off pretty good, but it usually misses the ball park completely." He held up the dress. "Can you try it on for me?"

I look down at the clothes in my hand. "Are these for Sullivan or for you?" I questioned with a playfulness in my words as I held the dress. He laughed momentarily, beckoning his head to the dressing room while I followed helplessly. The circular room was painted in lavender. Green plants poked out of their pots beside white sofas.

"I can always help you--" he teased, referring to the changing of clothes. He sat himself on one of the couches and threw his leg over his thigh.

I rolled my head, entering an oak wooden stall. I locked it, hanging up all the items and placing my phone down on the chair in the confined space. Wickedly, my hands patted my denim pockets. "My wallet!"

"I have it," Victor mused from the opposing side.

I sighed in relief before slipping my shirt off, tugging off my jeans and Ugg boots. I grabbed the nearest thing which happened to be the red blouse and grabbed the black jeans that I also chose. I needed new jeans anyway and these had a few tears near my thigh which I liked.

I fixed myself, looking in the mirror and seeing my caramel locks fall over my shoulders neatly. I unlatched the door, pivoting out of it and seeing Victor lying on his back, holding his phone above his head before shifting to me. The phone instantly slipped out of his hands landed on the marble tile beside him.

"Fuck!" He swung his legs over the chair and checked the screen, nodding to me that the phone was okay. "Yeah, we're buying it."

"What?" My voice cut off by my laughter. "You barely looked-"

His eyes stared at me through his lashes, dead serious, he griped, "buying it." He situated the phone beside his leg.

"Look!" I exclaimed, becoming giddy. I stood on one leg, outstretching one of my shoes to him as I pointed to the ripped seams. "We're matching!" I gestured to his ripped black jeans as he rolled his eyes, smiling to himself and pointing to the dressing room. When I returned, I changed into the blue skinny jeans, but the button was a little tight and my stomach popped out of the waistband. The yellow tube tank with fringe didn't look right with my jeans. I tried adjusting the denim but no matter which way I moved, my stomach was protruding.

Shit, I can't show this to Victor.

After a few minutes, he sang out to the vacant dressing room, "you're taking forever!"

"I just--" My voice hesitated as I stared at my body and suddenly wasn't as okay with it as I was before. "I look horrible."

"Don't be selfish, unveil your beauty," he sophisticatedly crooned. "Come on, Rye Bread. I'm waiting." His voice sounded somewhat eager and I subconsciously unhatched the door before I could process what I was doing. He sat upright, his phone in his hands as he raised his head instantly.

"Horrible?" He inquired. "The only horrible thing about this is that you didn't show me sooner." He approached me, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he gripped my hands and spun me around, the faint popular song mutedly playing behind us.

I chortled quietly, maybe even a few giggles slipping through as he rocked me soothingly. His one hand positioned half on the yellow tube tank and half on my exposed waist, and when I thought I was going to melt just by that, he rested his forehead on mine.

"Please, Rhy." His eyes looked down on me. "No matter how much you care about that boy, remember who you were before him." His hand clutched mine tighter, squeezing the spaces between my fingers. His thumb continuously running up my knuckle. His mouth leaned into my ear. "Try on the dress, please, gorgeous. Do you feel comfortable in the jeans or would you like me to quickly grab you a different size?"

"I--" My eyes snapped to the denim which had a tighter fit around me than the other one.

"It's not you, you know that, right? Jeans literally have different sizes depending on the company alone. Let me grab you the size up of those to see if you like them, because I remember you telling me you need more jeans." He gave my hand one last squeeze before vanishing off.

I nodded to his back with a grin, turning to the dressing room as went our separate ways. When I drew the denim and yellow tube tank off, Victor tossed over the pair of jeans. I fixed on the cream and baby pink skater mini dress, but fumbled with the zipper frustratingly. After hearing my series of groans, Victor called, "don't start without me."

"I can't get the zipper!" I yelled back, my fingers scratching at my skin in lousy attempts to fight with the metal clasp.

"Lemme help you."

I clutched the top of my dress as I opened the door and stepped out wearing short socks, barely riding up my ankles, but they had penguins on them. Victor looked down and smiled. "You can't get any more adorable and hot, can you?" His eyes trained up the dress before gesturing with his head for me to spin.

I smiled without much effort, my one hand holding the dress and the other raising my hair, clumping it to become a ball on my skull. I felt his cold, thin fingers graze my mid-back which felt awfully warm against him. He rigidly drew the zipper up leisure.

"Any day now," I jested.

His mouth was on my neck as his stomach slammed against the curvature of my back. I stumbled away the second his lips maneuvered against the skin under my ear. I became weak in his arms until I realized what was happening. "What are you doing?" I implored, my breathing spiking as I sputtered my hands out in front of me to support myself against the dressing room.

He seemed dumbfounded. "I'm uhh--" He chuckled. "I don't know." He gazed at the dress. "Guess that dress does wonders," he joked, scratching at his neck and turning away to the sofa.

Guilt hit me and with little going on in my head, I reached out and grabbed his hand, propelling him towards me with a vulnerable expression on my face. The thing was, I realized without realizing how docile every move he inflicted made me. My lips were parted and my fingers latched onto his wrist before I let go.

"Practice purposes," I confirmed and validated.

"Always."

His lips were on mine and the warm taste of citrus greeted me expertly. He tasted like lemon and each nippy bite was enveloped with a flood of heat. Each little noise he made, we shared. His hands worked their way to my waist, running faintly up my back before driving the zipper he previously did down to my lower back until I broke my lips off his.

He hovered his slightly swollen and wet lips over mine and his synchronized breath slipped onto my tongue making these hot, short sparks electorate my stomach. He waited to hear what I was going to say which tampered with my own breathing unknowingly.

"I..." am taken, I should've said, but I, "want more," left my mouth.

He sufficiently intercepted my lips with his own selfishness, the heat exchange curdling in my stomach excitingly as I basked inside of each anticipated suck to capture more of the familiarity. The lemon hinted taste infused into my mouth. His velvet tongue delicately encircling my own and knowingly touching my body. His hands had captured my bare waist and tugged me so my stomach was flush up against his.

I soon learned his love for it, grabbing me like some impatient child, moving my arms up over my head with his hand like a doll. He made me feel like a test he'd studied for or a blueprint he'd been accustomed to. I hated to think that it was just because he's done to this to numerous other lucky girls before, but a part of me wanted to assume he only knew how to please me.

Victor's body increasingly backed me into the stall before he pivoted and soundlessly spung the door closed. His explorative hands slid the spaghetti straps off my bare shoulders and the loose fitted material cascaded to my feet. Nothing but my back was supported by the cold oak panels of the dressing room.

Naturally, he dipped his head into the cavity of my neck while his hand forged up the outline of my ribs, stopping at my nude bra. He toyed with the cord. His heavy breathing fanned continually over my collarbone, turning the encirclement of his breath's reach inflamed and blotchy.

"Fuck--" he whispered hotly into my ear, his fevered forehead raised from my neck for his lips to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to my cheek and by the shell of my ear. "I'm begging you to order me to do something."

I couldn't contain my breathing and the notable pleasure was shown in my undergarments as I weakly lifted myself towards his scratchy denim. He groaned possessively and deliberately pressed his jeans towards a throbbing sensation. The feeling grew and pulsated in my gut, making a hushed noise protrude out of my lips. I swallowed, but my throat was dry to the bone. I started to slow my body to a halt as my eyes fell to a purplish bruise on my breast. A bruise that wasn't created by the guy before me.

"I'm dating Sullivan."

"You sound sad."

"Just--" I held in my breath, the feeling of incredulity running over my limbs in spurts. Impulsively, and at my lack of self-worth, I jabbed my chin towards the door. "Get out so I can change."

"Rhy--"

"I said, leave," I curtly declared and as he was turning to unlock the door, I grabbed his hand again and pulled him to me again but into a warm hug. My forehead pressed to his toned chest, wearing nothing but undergarments. "Can I get the dress, Vicky?"

He ran a hand through my hair. "Your mood changes will be the death of me," he announced casually, pinching my chin, forcing me to make eye contact.

"I know." I cheekily grinned. "But the dress?"

With a sharpness to his tone, he scolded, "if you think we aren't leaving the store with it... then you are terribly mistaken."

♡♡♡

After we had lunch at the food court, Victor loosely carried the strings of the paper bags by his side as his opposing hand latched to the denim belt loop attached to my jeans. My fingers were entwined with the other as I anxiously followed him towards the lingerie store.

"Don't you find this... odd?" I wondered, looking at him with a questioning glance. He only shrugged in reply as he discovered an admirable section.

"Now, imagine this." He yanked my belt loop and I stumbled towards him. "You wearing that." He pointed to a bra with straps down the waist. "Underneath me," he concluded. Then added, "preferably tied up." Then again, "blindfolded."

My laughter spiked. "Nice fantasy." In truth, not only before the dressing room incident, but definitely after, a new horny side of Victor began to threaten to reveal itself at the seams.

"Damn, straight." He lurked forward towards another section of red bralettes before he gestured to a multiway strappy laced bra. The cups were absolutely stunning, but I could never pull something like that off. "Wear that in front of Sullivan and he will fall to his knees."

"Let's hope not." I decidedly announced in a low whisper, "I'm pretty sure sex is pointless for me."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I do not want to have sex or anything near it." I lowered my tone as my hands outlined the detailing of the material. "Sullivan, kind of..." My voice trailed, but after seeing him lower his chin in expectancy, I revealed, "fingered me, but I didn't like it--"

"Did you--"

"No." I whined out, "I don't want to do anything like that again--"

"The dressing room is laughing right now," he voiced, taking the red multiway bra off the rack, releasing his grip on my belt loop as he held the bra up to himself. "I know," he bragged, making me die of hysterics. "You can't take your eyes off of me--"

"Yeah, that's it," I sarcastically stitched with my laughter, the chuckles spurting out of my throat. "You are ridiculous-"

"--Lee hot," he corrected, "ridiculously hot is what you meant to say." He outstretched the bra. "Try it on for me and I'll give you a ten dollar gift-card to a burger place down the street," he concluded, dead serious.

"Veto." I overlapped my arms against my chest. "Ten dollar gift-card to the burger place and you take me."

"Deal." He bit his lower lip. "I don't think I'm allowed in the dressing rooms, but snap a picture on your phone," he told me, passing over the bra.

I swallowed thickly, remembering the feeling of exposure when I was with Sullivan. No matter how much I considered him a crush, I was okay with everything but that. It was violating to know someone had that buried into the depths of their phone to do God knows what. I later mentioned it to Keiona on FaceTime, but from what she said, she takes thousands of nudes, but they all live in different areas of the world. From what she told me, I should talk to Sullivan about it until I feel comfortable again.

Victor saw the hesitation. "Or I'll buy it for you and you can show me in person?" he offered.

"No, but just for you."

He audibly slit his breathing and whispered, "fuck, Princess." He snagged his bottom lip again and fleeted a glance up my body. "I want you to know, you make me fall to my knees without even trying."

x