Page 62 of Crash and Burn

"You done yet?" Grant called out.

With a sigh I pulled back the curtain to find Grant with his phone already out and snapping away.

"Photographic evidence of my humiliating lack of style?" I asked.

"You look adorable," he said. "Like some kinds of eighties throwback."

"Should I start singingGirls Just Wanna Have Fun?" I asked.

Grant shoved another handful of clothes into my hands.

"Put these on next," he said.

I didn't even want to guess what he'd chosen for me this time. I went back into the room and took off the jean jacket and hot pink zebra dress.

Or, I tried to. The dress was too tight and I couldn't get it over my head. I tried the other way, slipping the neck hole down over my hips, but that only made things worse.

Dammit.

"Grant?" I called out. "A little help?"

He peeped an eye through the curtain.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm stuck."

He paused, then threw his head back and laughed.

"Just help me out of this stupid dress," I grumbled.

Grant slid into the change room and closed the curtain behind him. He eyed the situation. I was in my bra and panties with the dress bunched around my waist. He bit his lip to stifle another chuckle.

"Don't laugh," I told him. "This whole thing is your fault."

"I apologize," he said solemnly, aiming to keep his face straight. "Let me see what I can do."

With great effort — and four pairs of hands — we managed to get the dress up and over my head, messing up my hair in the process. I combed my fingers through the strands to try and tame the frizz with a grumble.

Two warm hands placed themselves on my hips. Grant tugged lightly until we were pressed together. My eyes were level to his chest. I had to look up, craning my neck back until we were face to face.

A sly smile played on his lips.

"Seems like I'm overdressed," he said.

He moved his knee until it was between my legs, his thigh pressing against my core. My stomach clenched and my cheeks flushed hot.

"We're in the middle of a store," I whispered.

"The curtain is closed," he pointed out.

"Anyone could walk in," I replied.

"Then I better make this quick."

He slipped his hand under my panties and brushed his thumb against the sensitive nub at the apex of my thighs. I let out a sharp gasp, then clamped my lips closed to prevent another sound.

He rubbed his thumb in light circles, the heat in my belly rising with every touch. He used two fingers to trace a line between my lower lips, the glide eased by my growing wetness.