Bab 62: fake billionaire, damaged boy friend 18

Dimitri

He puffs his chest into the air and marches proudly down the sidewalk without another word. I don't let it bother me in the slightest, Izzy brushing her cheek into my chest until he's finally out of sight, but never out of mind.

"That was intense," she mutters, "What were you two talking about before I got here?"

"Nothing at all, Kitten. Come on, I have somewhere for us to go tonight. You still have that sexy little leather outfit, right?"

She blushes and nods, "Of course, but I thought you said I look better in my pencil skirt and blouse."

Opening the passenger door to my sports car, I catch a glimpse of her perfect curves as she slides into the seat, my mouth fighting the urge to salivate.

"Technically, Kitten, you look better in nothing, but the pencil skirt isn't bad."