Katya smiled and nodded her head. "Well, mission accomplished. You look both comfortable, and mostly, invisible. But I see how pretty you are, Hannah. My guess is that Nikolai has noticed, too."
I almost laughed out loud at that comment. Oh, optimistic, and apparently romantic, Katya. She definitely didn't know our deal if that's what she was thinking. I didn't laugh though, because she was looking at me with such dedicated sincerity I almost wanted to reach over and hug her for it. I found myself kind of in love with Katya right then. She was doing wonders for my self-esteem.
"Well, I'm really only friends with Nikolai. He's just doing this to be nice." I don’t know what prompted this sudden burst of honesty, but I didn’t want to lie to Katya. I wanted to portray our relationship as realistically as possible to her, since we didn't have to fool Katya; she didn't go to our school. She shot me a hilarious what-the-fuck face when I described Nikolai being nice.
Katya’s expression then morphed into one that was equal parts concern and indulgence. "Uh, no he isn't. Not at all. And he definitely doesn't do things out of the goodness of his heart. If he's hanging out with you it's because he wants to, or—” She paused, gazing forward thoughtfully for a minute, as if she were omitting some other, less idealistic reasons he would be spending time with me.
After a moment of consideration, she apparently came to the conclusion I would have nothing of consequence to offer Nikolai. She was right, because I couldn’t even get him to take my seven hundred dollars. Katya glanced at me again with a coy smile. “Because he likes you." She winked at me again after she said that.
Like I said, there was a lot to like about Katya.
Chapter 12
Nikolai
Katya had texted me to tell me where she and Hannah would be shopping, so I begrudgingly made my way through the long, noisy corridor of the mall to meet them. I hated the mall. I hated shopping. I was only here because, although I wanted Katya to take over the majority of the shopping shit, I needed to make sure she chose the right clothes for Hannah. I don't know why I cared, but I didn't want her to dress Hannah in anything that was too tight or too revealing. I mean, she was supposed to be my girlfriend, so I didn’t want Katya dressing her in a way that would have every motherfucker in our school drooling after her.
I wanted to punch myself in the face for devoting as much of my thought process to this as I had.
Handling Hannah’s problems was making me feel responsible for her, and that needed to end immediately. It was a feeling that made the neckline of my shirt feel too tight. It was definitely easier, and more comfortable, not to care.
When I walked up on Hannah and Katya, they were laughing like they’d been friends for years. I stopped about ten feet away and stared.
Katya had done something to her face, put makeup on or something, because she looked different. Maybe it was because she wasn't wearing her glasses? A sheet of thick, straight, almost black hair fell past the middle of her back. I felt my fists clench in an attempt to suppress the urge to touch it, wrap it around my fist. Jesus, I needed to fucking pull it together.
I was not attracted to Hannah. I felt sorry for her. That’s it.
"Hey, Kat, how's it going?" I gritted out. Both girls looked at me, and I got my first full look at Hannah's face. She was definitely wearing makeup because her violet eyes looked big and dramatic in contrast with her dark hair and pale skin. Her smiling mouth looked red and pouty, like they had just been kissed and bitten.
As if reading my mind, she bit into her lower lip, showing me the even, white teeth I hadn’t had the chance to appreciate before. I was beginning to wonder if I’d fucked myself by insisting on this makeover. I had only wanted to make this whole thing believable, not make Hannah so hot that I’d want to fuck her brains out.
But here we were.
"It's going great!" Katya replied cheerily, jerking my attention back to her. "Hannah and I are like long lost sisters,” Katya said as she pulled Hannah in an impromptu hug.
Hannah shot Katya a look filled with indulgence and appreciation as she threw her arm around Katya’s waist. I was glad I had asked Katya to help Hannah. I didn't know how many friends Hannah had, but it looked like she was grateful for Katya's exuberant guidance.
These feelings were starting to make my chest tighten and my dick harden, so I cleared my throat and found myself casually saying, "Okay, well, why don't you show me what you had in mind for her to wear."
"You want to see the clothes?" Katya asked, shooting me a look of astonishment. She knew I could give a shit about fashion. Then a smug, knowing look slid over her pretty face. “Why? Do you want to make sure you approve?" She was mocking me, but I could tell there was a serious edge to her question.
Unfortunately, that's exactly why I wanted to see what she’d chosen. To make sure I approved of what Hannah would be wearing, and to get rid of what I didn't like. I wasn’t particularly interested in dissecting my motivations. “Just let me see the fucking clothes, all right?" I said this with good-natured exasperation, so she'd let it go.
Katya gave me a confused look, then turned to Hannah, shrugged and shooed her toward the fitting room. Hannah gave one last glance at me, no doubt also surprised that I would give even one fuck about which clothes Katya had chosen.
After Hannah left, Katya turned on me quickly, frowning. "What gives, Nik? Are you seriously worried that I would put her in something inappropriate?"
I sighed and rubbed my hand down my face. "No, not really.”
Katya's confused look was replaced by another smug smile. "You like her, don't you?"
I wanted to laugh. Like her? No, not really. I didn’t even know her.
"Let's talk about something else," I responded, unable and unwilling to explain my actions. Katya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, as she opened her mouth to, no doubt, ask me another irritating question.
Fortunately, Hannah came out of the dressing room at that moment. She was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, black flats, and one of those flowy, white, peasant-style blouses with embroidery on the front. The shirt was loose enough, but it had a wide neckline that tended to sometimes slide off of one shoulder. It showed the smooth, soft-looking skin of her chest and shoulders, and made me want to sink my teeth into her delicate looking collarbone. Even though the outfit was tame, I could still feel my dick starting to respond in appreciation.
My expression was like stone right now, trying to get my surging interest under control. Hannah was staring at me expectantly, obviously looking for some positive feedback. I cleared my throat and gritted out, "It looks fine."
Hannah looked a little crestfallen at my faint praise, but I didn't have it in me to deal with it. "Let's see another one," I said, as I gestured back to the dressing room. After that came a parade of similar looking items consisting of skinny jeans, loose casual looking tops, and a couple of cute dresses. Katya had done an amazing job of making Hannah look fashionable, but still staying true to who Hannah was, because Hannah not only looked attractive, but comfortable and at ease.
I was about to tell Hannah she didn't have to bother showing me more and was feeling really stupid for even asking to see the clothes at all, when she walked out in a pair of wide legged pants, sandals and a dark blue, fitted sleeveless top. It had a wide neckline with a piece of fabric falling over each breast and crossing at her midsection. The V-neck only revealed barest bit of cleavage, but the tight fit gave a very clear view of her dynamite rack and the fitted waist highlighted her curves in a way that made me uncomfortable. This was not an outfit I would pick for Hannah. Was she even wearing a bra? This outfit was overtly sexy. No. No way was she wearing that anywhere.
"What the fuck, Katya?" I exploded, as I turned on her.
Katya's eyes widened in surprise, and I shot a quick glance over to Hannah to see her react in much the same way.
"What?"
"What are you thinking? She can't wear that. No way." I was barking out sentence after sentence, worked
up at the idea of all the guys at school who had never noticed Hannah before running to the bathroom to rub one at after seeing her in that outfit. Having them wonder if she was wearing a bra. I don't think so. No fucking way.
I opened my mouth to say exactly that to Katya, when I looked at Hannah and saw her eyes shining with tears. She started to slowly walk back to the dressing room, not saying a word, but she didn't have to. Her expression said everything.
Fuck.
Katya now turned on me. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Nikolai? How could you say that?"
I sighed as I sat in down in one of the chairs they had just outside the changing rooms. I was already starting to regret my outburst for multiple reasons. I leaned my head on the back of the chair, looked up at the ceiling, and tried to control all the opposing impulses running through me.
One part of me believed wholeheartedly in what I'd said about Hannah's clothes. Guys would be all over her. And I didn't like that. However, another part of me realized that Hannah had the right to wear whatever the fuck she wanted, and no one—not even me—had the right to tell her she couldn't. Unfortunately.
And most importantly, since when did I give a fuck about what any girl wore? Never, that’s when. The fact that I’d demonstrated any opinion at all about Hannah’s clothes was surprising, but to have this kind of response was downright alarming. As I was trying to sort out my reaction, Katya decided to chime in and twist the knife. She smacked me on the shoulder and sat on the arm of my chair. "Why do you think she dressed the way she did before, Nikolai?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "She dressed that way because she was afraid to be noticed, afraid to stand out. She was uncomfortable with herself, and I took her here and put her in clothes that made her feel happy. Feel proud. And you ruined that acting like a goddamned Neanderthal, you asshole!" She was whisper screaming at me now, obviously not wanting to let Hannah hear her, but wanting me to know how much I had fucked up.
I opened my mouth to explain that I had been trying to protect Hannah. Sort of. Then I looked at Katya’s furious expression and realized it would be stupid to try and defend anything at that moment. "I get it. I’ll go apologize.” I took a deep breath and slowly got out of my chair, knowing I had to clear the air with Hannah.
Another first.
Chapter 13
Hannah
As I jerked the shirt I’d been wearing over my head, I struggled to hold back the scream dying to burst from my throat. I was so angry at myself for almost crying in front of Nikolai, but what made me more furious were his words.
Initially, I had been uncomfortable parading in front Nikolai in new clothes like a little kid on the first day of school. I thought maybe he’d wanted to make sure it was up to his standards since he was paying for it and I’d be standing next to him as his fake girlfriend.
What had pleasantly surprised me were the looks of appreciation I received as I came out in each subsequent outfit. I could tell by the way his eye skated down my body, lingering on different areas, that he liked what he was seeing. It made my chest swell with pride and my stomach fill with butterflies. He’d been looking at me like a man looks at a woman he was attracted to, which filled me with baffled awe.
When he got so angry about my last outfit, I had multiple reactions. Initially, I thought he was implying I looked ridiculous trying to be sexy and was filled with humiliation. It took me a minute to realize he might be acting jealous, that the outfit made me too sexy to other guys. Could that actually be what was going on?
The last reaction was total fury and frustration. I’d been dressing the way I had all these years partly because it was comfortable and cheap, but also because I thought if I dressed as asexually as possible, it would turn Jeff off. I’d never been able to develop an appreciation for clothes, accessories, or makeup because I had never felt safe experimenting with it. Unfortunately, not only did my strategy not work as far as Jeff was concerned, but I’d obviously gotten too accustomed to my default wardrobe. When I wanted to actually dress with style, I was hopeless at choosing clothes, constantly second guessing my instincts.
There was a brief knock on the door, so I absently said, "Come in," assuming it was Katya. God knows, she’d seen me in less than a bra and pants today, so her entering while I was half dressed didn't faze me like it had the first 20 times she had done it. Katya wasn’t big on boundaries.
Except it wasn't Katya.
When I looked up, I was staring into Nikolai's shocked face in the open doorway of the dressing room. He quickly stepped in and shut the door. Since I was only wearing my bra, I shrieked and threw my arms in an x across exposed torso.
"What are you doing in here? This is the ladies dressing room!" I yelped, looking around for my trusty sweatshirt. These dressing rooms were actually quite large, so my clothes were on a chair across from where I was standing. Behind Nikolai.
Nikolai’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes hotly wandered all over the territory I was trying to keep hidden with my forearms. I cleared my throat in a passive aggressive attempt to shame him out of staring at me, but it was as if he hadn’t even noticed. He leaned his back against the door as he continued to stare.
"What the hell do you want? Actually, no, get out of here!" I couldn't push him out because my hands were glued to my opposite shoulders, so I made nudging gestures with my elbows, which I realized belatedly were just showcasing my jiggling cleavage. Nikolai’s expression indicated his full appreciation of my movements. “Nikolai!”
His eyes reluctantly moved back to my face, and a look of chagrin and resolution came over his face. He sighed deeply. "I need to talk to you for a second."
"Um, can you hand me my sweatshirt, please?" I asked, while jerking my chin behind him to indicate where it was. He looked behind him and snagged the sweatshirt, but then did nothing to hand it over.
"Well?" I prodded.
He half smiled and said, "I'm deciding if I really want you to put it back on. I’m feeling kind of fond of the view. Actually, this is partially why I'm here to talk to you."
I frowned. "What do you mean?" I asked, momentarily forgetting I was half naked.
He sighed again, folding his arms over his chest, my sweatshirt still balled in his fist. "Look, Hannah, I realize I don't have the right to tell you what the fuck to wear. It was fucked up of me to get so bent out of shape about your clothes." His voice lowered as he added, "I was just shocked."
Nikolai then lowered his arms and stepped closer to me so there was no more than a foot of space between us. I could feel the heat coming off his body as he towered over me. I couldn’t resist taking a deep breath and inhaling his intoxicating scent that was probably no more than the soap he’d used that morning when he’d showered.
"Shocked by what?" I asked, still taken aback at his closeness.
Nikolai continued to drill me with his arctic colored eyes. Then he slowly lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers against my collarbone and up the side of my throat. He then moved hand up to cradle my jaw and rub his thumb over my lips. “By this,” he murmured.
I’d never been touched so intimately in my life, and it was making my stomach jump and my heart pound like a jack hammer in my chest. It felt like Nikolai’s hot blue stare was putting me in a trance. My hands fell to my sides, wordlessly giving him access to any other places he might want to touch.
Nikolai’s gaze moved down, taking in my breasts that were straining against my inexpensive, but lacy, white bra. My underwear was the only place I could express any femininity without fear, so I tended to indulge myself with frilly undergarments. Unfortunately, this meant my nipples were not only identifiably hard, but also visible behind the lace.
With one hand still stationed at my jaw, Nikolai slowly moved two rough knuckles to my left breast and rubbed them against my hardened nipple. I felt a groan trying to claw its way out of my throat but was too embarrassed to completely let go. He reached up and slowly slid the strap off my left shoulder, pulling the lacy
cup down under my full breast. It felt like I hadn’t taken a breath in five minutes. The feel of his fingertips lightly stroking my upper breast was like being jolted with electricity. When the rough pad of his thumb rubbed and then started pulling on my stiff nipple, I wanted jump out of my skin, it felt so good.
"What are you doing?" I gasped, my voice sounding like I had swallowed glass. I don’t know why I asked that. I knew what he was doing. He was touching me more than anyone had ever had gotten the opportunity to before.
He slowly lifted his gaze from where he was lightly rubbing and pinching my nipple to my face. His jaw was tight, and there were beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. He leaned his head in and put his mouth was right by my ear, both of his hands moving from their previous locations to rest lightly at my waist, moving his thumbs over my hip bones.
"I needed to see more. I needed to see more than anyone else would, no matter what you were wearing. Now, if you wear any of the clothes you bought, I'm still the only one who's seen your body like this.” His hotly spoken words sent a blast of heat through my already overheated body. I could feel his breath against the side of my neck, and as his hands started to tighten on my hips.
"Wh-why is that important?" I gasped, my hands sliding up his chest, reveling in the hardness of his chest under his shirt.
Nikolai pulled back slightly, looking me straight in the eye. He took one hand from my hip and held me under my chin. "Because it's mine."
"That sounds a little archaic,” I gulped and croaked out, trying desperately not to succumb to the eroticism of his claim. My abandoned nipples were practically begging for his touch, and I felt a pounding between my legs that made me want to start grinding against him in order to relieve it.
He tightened his hands on my hips, slowly pulling me against his hard body. My exposed breast rubbed against the rough material of his shirt, exciting me further.
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