I paid for her mask, all the while the cashier giggled about the shirt I was about to put on, making me wonder what kind of shirts they sold in this shop that could be that bad.

Taking my bag, I took Lyla’s hand in mine, and we left the store. Outside, I turned her so she was facing me and pressed her up against the side of the building.

“Do I get my shirt now?” I asked, eye-fucking her to my best ability.

“Are you going to wear it?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at me.

“You think your pretty eyes are going to convince me?”

“I was hoping they would,” she said, running her hand up my stomach, making my nerve endings jump in anticipation of what was to come.

“I think that might just work.”

“Yay!” She stood on her toes and kissed my jaw. Warmth spread over me from her touch, something I was starting to grow fond of. “You’re going to love it.”

From the bag, she pulled a folded black shirt and shook it out.  On it were two animated nipple tassels perfectly placed for a man of my size.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, tickled.

“Nope, this is just for you, big guy. Now put it on.”

She yanked on the hem of my shirt and started pulling it over my head.

“Whoa, hold up,” I said while I tried to slow her down, but she had the thing almost over my head, ready to come off.

Not being able to fight her off, I removed my shirt, and I was standing in the middle of the French Quarter bare-chested. Weirdly, it wasn’t a strange occurrence at all.

Standing there, I watched Lyla take in the contours and caves of my chest with heat in her eyes, heat that immediately started to turn me on. She was taking her sweet-ass time perusing my body and honestly, I didn’t give two fucks that she did. Stare all you want, I thought.

Clearing my throat to gather her attention, I held out my hand. “Are you going to give me that?”

“Uh, yeah.” She handed it over. She held my other shirt as I put on the nipple-tasseled garb. The sleeves were a little tight and the bottom was slightly loose because of my narrow waist, but that was a given with regular shirts like these. They always fit me in a weird way.

After staring down at the tassels, I looked up to see Lyla covering her mouth and laughing. The sound of it was intoxicating. It melted my cold, dark heart on the spot.

“This funny to you?” I asked, holding out my arms.

She nodded and pulled a bonus item from the bag.

“Buy a shirt, get a free hat,” she said. She popped the back of the hat out so she could place it on my head. It was a black trucker’s hat, and on the front was an animated crawfish holding up its claw. To one side, it said, “Suck this.”

Novelty to the extreme.

She adjusted the size of the hat and placed it on my head, cocking it to the side just slightly.

“Can’t have you looking like a total dweeb.” She winked. She stepped back and took a look at me. “Even with that ridiculous hat and shirt on, you’re still hot as fuck.”

“That’s good to know.” I grinned, enjoying the candid compliment. “Are we headed back to your place now?” I asked, a little too eager.

“No, I have something else in mind.”

“Kitten’s Castle?” I teased as she linked my hand with hers and led me down the street.

She glared at me. “No, not Kitten’s Castle.”

We walked hand-in-hand, enjoying the blustery night and the sounds of zydeco music being played on the corner of Toulouse and Royale.

“Hey, suck this!” a drunk man said while grabbing his crotch and walking by us, referring to the stupid crawfish on my hat.

I gave him a thumbs-up and kept walking. Fucking idiots.

“Got to love the atmosphere,” Lyla said.

“And the tacky hats you get for free.”

“It’s a very nice-looking crawfish, plus it has meaning, Kace.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, adjusting the hat.

“Uh, hello. Our first date was eating crawfish.”

It didn’t escape me that she’d used the term “first date.” Instead of correcting her that this would be our only date, I let the comment slide because frankly, I was having a good time, and I didn’t want to spoil that, even if this night was a onetime thing for me. If I was only going to be with her in a “boyfriend” capacity for one night, I wanted to remember it as a good time.

“Here we are,” Lyla said, stopping and letting the awkward moment slide away.

I scanned the street and saw we were standing outside a building that was smartly lit up on the inside. A sign hanging over it said Trashy Diva.

“Where are we?” I asked, wondering what Lyla was up to.

“You’ll see.” She smiled, pulling me inside.

I didn’t have to walk too far into the store to realize Lyla had brought me to a lingerie store. Chandeliers lit up the small space. Light bounced off the white walls and racks of dresses were lined up in the front of the store, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. What had a light sheen of sweat breaking out over my skin were the small pieces of fabric in the back.

“Help me pick something out,” Lyla suggested with an evil glint.

“Hey, Lyla,” a clerk called to her. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Hey, Tammy. I am. I’m looking for something green or something that would look pretty with green.”

Tammy tapped her chin with a pen and then said, “I’ve got a couple of ideas. Shall I set you up in a room?”

“Please. Can I have a corner room, please? I want this guy to be able to sit comfortably while I try things on.”

Tammy gave me the once-over and hid a snicker the minute her eyes landed on my shirt.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “It’s the only kind of lingerie I will wear.”

Tammy out-right laughed. “Well, it’s very becoming on you.”

I liked Tammy.

While she and Lyla talked, I went to the back, where a gold chair was tucked in the corner. I took a seat and waited patiently as Tammy pulled a couple of items for Lyla. I wasn’t going to lie; I was actually pretty damn thrilled about this portion of the date.

Once Lyla was behind a curtain, I stared down at the tassels on my shirt, wondering who the hell had printed such a thing. Apparently there were zero standards when it came to shirt-making.

“Are you ready?” Lyla called from behind the curtain.

I looked around to see if anyone else was in the store. In the midst of looking at my shirt, I missed the fact that Tammy had put up a sign in the store front that had a clock on it, making me assume she’d taken off for a quick break, leaving Lyla and I alone.

Excitement boiled inside of me. “Yeah,” I answered.

Lyla whipped open the curtain and strutted toward me, taking my fucking breath right from my lungs.

Standing before me, she was wearing the mask I’d just bought her with a piece of lingerie that should have been illegal. It was a green top that came to just below her hips, it was skin tight, and it was fucking see-through. She’d neglected to wear a bra, displaying her hardened nipples to perfection. A black thong was wrapped around her hips, making me silently beg for her to turn around.

She stood in front of me with zero shame. “If only I had on some strappy heels, it would be the perfect the outfit.”

“Fuck the heels,” I rasped, taking her entire body in. I shifted in my seat, but it did nothing for the raging hard-on I was sporting.

“Do you like?” she asked, as if she couldn’t tell.

Linking our hands together, I pulled her down on my lap so she was straddling me and said in a husky tone, “You tell me. Do you think I like it?”

“Hmm, not sure. Let me see.” Her hips started to rock back and forth on my lap, creating a mind-numbing friction. “It seems you might like it.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I reminded her as my hands fell to her hips, forcing her to press down harder.

“I thought we went over this at dinner. I always finish, Kace.”