My Stepmom's Boyfriend (Forbidden Fun)

Yet all the salespeople look so sophisticated. What must they think of this raggedy girl with clothes she clearly can’t afford in her arms? I bet they pity me, guessing that I’m Julia Roberts to Richard Gere’s billionaire in Pretty Woman. And the truth is they wouldn’t be wrong.

I grit my teeth again and my cheeks feel hot. I need to get out of here because this is a travesty. I’m living a farce and feel like I’m going to choke if I don’t get some fresh air.

I return to Travis and flash him a quick smile.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

He looks up from his phone and frowns, looking at the items clutched in my arms. “So soon? Is that all you have? Or did you leave the rest at the counter?”

“What do you mean?”

He squints, looking a bit confused himself.

“It looks like you only have three things. That isn’t nearly enough.”

“Oh no, it’s plenty. I can make do. I always have.”

Travis shakes his head again, those blue eyes filling with realization. “No Caitlin, you don’t have to do that anymore. Money is no object and I want you to pick out a few more items of clothing. Not to mention hats, shoes, and accessories too.”

I gnaw on my lip, shaking my head.

“I promise this is plenty. I don’t need much, I swear.”

Travis merely frowns.

“Remember our agreement? Lingerie only in the house? This isn’t going to be enough because I want to see you decked out, honey, and not re-wearing the same two sets every other day.”

“I’ll do laundry regularly. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

He lets out a huge sigh, running one hand through his black hair, leaving it delightfully rumpled. “Caitlin, do not argue this with me. You are going to pick out more clothing, even if I have to do it myself. Not only that, but I enjoy tearing the lingerie right off of the woman I’m with, so the two snippets of lace you have in your hands are nowhere near enough. Go pick out more things now. And I expect you to select some formalwear too, in addition to the lingerie.”

“Travis…” I protest.

But he ignores me. “And what about a sports bra? Didn’t you say that was on your list for all the jogging you want to do? I don’t see one in your arms.”

Oh shit. I wonder how much athletic wear costs here. It’s probably more than I’ve ever had in my entire life.

“Perhaps we can go somewhere else,” I say quickly. “Somewhere less expensive? There’s no need to spend a fortune on sportswear because you know that stuff gets sweaty and gross in no time.”

Travis stares at me again as if I’ve grown a third head.

“Sweetheart, it is not about the money. I’m not sure how many times I have to say it. You know what I do for a living. You’ve seen my home, and as a result, finances are not something that concern me. I have plenty of cash, and I want to spend it on you.”

I gulp.

“But you said that the problem with the other women was that they expected too much. They wanted expensive gifts, and trinkets, and baubles.”

Travis shakes his head.

“You know, I never thought I’d be in this position, trying to force a girl to buy things for herself. Please spend my money, Caitlin. I want to do this. Please. For me.”

My stomach churns. Does he really mean what he’s saying? Why is he being so generous? A saleswoman swans over at that instant with a bright smile on her face.

“Don’t make me embarrass you,” Travis mock threatens me under his breath as she approaches. The mood broken, I giggle.

“Okay, if that’s what you want me to do, then I’ll do it,” I say. “But I’m not really sure where to start. This isn’t the kind of shop I’m used to.”

“Perfect,” Travis says. The he turns to the saleslady and reads the name-tag on the woman’s chest. “Tessa, would you mind helping Caitlin here? It seems that she doesn’t know how to spend money.”

The girl smiles brightly, her blonde bouffant reminding me a bit of a poodle. “Of course, I’d be more than happy!” Then she looks over at me with a friendly smile. “What are we looking for today?”

Before I can say anything, Travis interrupts. “The full Monty. Caitlin needs a whole new wardrobe, including indoor clothes, outdoor clothes, clothes for the week, for the weekend, et cetera.”

Tessa practically claps her hands with glee. “Well, I can certainly help with that. Come with me, Caitlin.”

I follow the blonde woman towards the back of the store, shooting daggers over my shoulder at Travis. He merely smirks at me and goes back to his phone.

“I like to go from back to front in Chantecaille,” sings Tessa. “Our formalwear is back here. How many outfits are you looking for?”