The Reluctant Vampire - Lynsay Sands [16]
The dress was nothing special . . . until Drina put it on. It looked to him as if Stephanie had given her the wrong size. Drina seemed to be busting out all over the place, her breasts overflowing the cups to the point of almost spilling out, and the slit up the front so high that Harper feared more than thigh would show were she to step up onto anything or sit in it.
“Perfect,” Stephanie pronounced, jolting him out of his stupor.
He peered from Drina to Stephanie with disbelief. “Surely it’s the wrong size?”
“Actually, it’s just my size,” Drina said, peering at herself in the mirror.
“But it’s—” He paused, mouth open when she turned her back to him. Drina’s behind was as generous as her bosom, and he couldn’t help noting the way the material clung to her curves . . . or how short the skirt was. Were she to bend over, he was sure the skirt would climb halfway up her hips.
He’d barely had the thought when Stephanie said, “Maybe you should bend over, Drina. We need to be sure it’s safe to do that in this dress.”
Drina shrugged and bent at the waist as if to pick up something. The skirt didn’t rise halfway up her hips as he’d feared, but high enough that he caught a glimpse of her white lace panties.
“It’s okay,” Stephanie decided. “It only shows a little panty when you do that.”
“Then I won’t bend over,” Drina said dryly as she straightened.
Harper closed his eyes and just managed not to whimper. This was an experience he felt sure he would never forget . . . and definitely never repeat, he thought grimly. Women were crazy.
“I think we should probably get you some FM shoes to go with it when we go looking for winter boots,” Stephanie announced, and Drina nodded as she slipped back into the dressing room to return to her jeans and blouse.
“FM shoes?” Harper asked blankly.
“It’s what my sister calls high heels,” Stephanie explained.
“Oh.” He frowned and asked, “Is it a brand or—”
“No. It stands for something, but she’ll never tell me what,” Stephanie said with a grimace, and then shrugged. “Maybe Drina can tell us. She seemed to know what I was talking about. Oh look! Wouldn’t these look darling on her?”
Harper stared at the package of thigh-high stockings Stephanie was now holding up and shook his head with bewilderment. It was like the girl was dressing a hooker Barbie. She seemed eager to get Drina in the slinkiest, sexiest items available. Not that Drina seemed to be fighting the effort. Although, to be fair, the black dress was the only outer clothing that fit that description. The rest of the clothes she’d chosen had been mostly sensible and comfortable jeans, T-shirts, and so on. But every bit of underclothing was downright rated X.
“Girls like to wear pretty things,” Stephanie announced with a smile. “My sister, Dani, says it’s kind of like a secret. Men don’t know what we have on under our clothes. We may look like a librarian or tomboy on the outside, but underneath we can be as secretly sexy and pretty as we please.” She turned back to the hose and smiled. “You should have seen the cute little pink panties and bra Drina was wearing last night. I suffered some serious envy when I saw them. I can’t wait to wear stuff like that. They looked incredible against her olive skin.”
Harper blinked, his mind filling with an image of Drina in pale pink panties and bra, and it did look incredible against her darker skin. Damn, he thought on a sigh as Drina stepped out of the changing room.
“I guess I’ll get it. You never know when you’ll need to dress up,” Drina said lightly, setting the short, black cocktail dress in the cart. “What’s left? Coats, boots, a hat, and gloves?”
“Yeah.” Stephanie glanced down at the bomber jacket she wore and winced. “Tiny picked this up for me yesterday, which was really sweet, because if not I wouldn’t have had a coat at all. But it’s kind of big and really, just