He seems to think a lot of himself and his clothes. Well, he'd better justify his confidence rather quickly and stop laughing at me. I don't think he'll be able to produce anything as light and soft as Jamie's mouth sliding over my skin, anything that tickles as deliciously as his beard.

I slide my arm away from Dorian's hand, resisting the urge to inch away from him. "Mister--" I don't actually know his surname. Maybe he doesn't have one. He seems like that sort of person. "Dorian. I'll take my clothes off when you give me something better to put on instead." And I'll do it in the fitting room with the curtain closed, thank you very much.