Chapter 120: Chapter 120
The mall was a sprawling beast of glass and steel, its massive atrium catching the afternoon light, refracting it into rainbows across polished marble floors. Escalators whirred, carrying crowds between floors, while the scent of pretzels and perfume mixed in the air. Neon signs glowed above storefronts—Verve, Threadz, a fancy lingerie boutique, a tech store blasting bass-heavy ads.
Kids ran past, laughing, while couples and groups milled around, their voices blending into a constant buzz. The food court’s aroma—burgers, sushi, cinnamon buns—wafted from the far end, tempting me as I walked beside Kim, her short brown hair bouncing, her borrowed t-shirt and jeans looking out of place in the mall’s glossy vibe.
Kim’s eyes lit up, scanning the stores, her steps quickening. "This place is huge," she said, her voice bright despite the weight of her situation—Tom’s betrayal, her stolen stuff. "Where do we start?"
"Wherever you want," I said, hands in my pockets, my phone still warm from Delilah’s text. "You need clothes, shoes, whatever. Let’s get you sorted."
She pointed at a Verve across the atrium, its mannequins decked in sleek jackets and flowy dresses. "There," she said, already moving. I followed, dodging a group of teens taking selfies.
Inside, the store was a maze of racks—denim, blouses, skirts, all lit by harsh white lights. Kim beelined for a row of tops, pulling out a black crop top with thin straps. "What about this?" she asked, holding it up, her lips quirking.
"Looks good," I said, leaning against a rack. "Try it on. Let’s see it."
She grabbed a few more items—a pair of high-waisted jeans, a red sweater—and headed to the fitting room. I waited outside, scrolling my phone, the system UI flickering in my mind. Emotional Charisma still needed one flirt to unlock, and I figured a cashier here could be my chance. Kim stepped out, the crop top hugging her frame, her midriff bare, the jeans tight on her hips. She spun, smirking. "Well?"
"Damn, Kim," I said, grinning. "You’re making that look illegal. Get it."
She laughed, her cheeks flushing, and nodded. "Alright, adding it to the pile." We left with two bags—crop top, jeans, sweater, and a pair of sneakers—my wallet lighter but the $1,000 from the system’s credits keeping me relaxed.
Next, she pointed at a small boutique, its window displaying lacy bras and silk panties under soft lighting. "I need... you know, underwear," she said, a little shy. "You cool waiting?"
"Go for it," I said, settling on a bench outside, watching shoppers pass. I didn’t like waiting in malls—too crowded, too loud. I usually bought my shit online, but for Kim, this was fine.
She came back with a small bag, her face red. "Got some stuff," she mumbled, avoiding my eyes.
"Anything spicy in there?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Shut up," she said, elbowing me, but her smile betrayed her.
We hit a shoe store next, Kim trying on boots and heels, asking my opinion each time. "These?" she said, modeling black ankle boots, her jeans tucked in.
"Hot," I said, nodding. "You’re building a whole new vibe."
She grinned, grabbing the boots and a pair of white sneakers. "I’ll wait outside," Kim said, handing me the items. "God, I’m so tired. I need to sit down."
"Sure," I replied, nodding.
The salesperson—a guy with a loose ponytail and a half-zipped hoodie—packed the shoes into a box, tissue paper crinkling. He handed it over with a curt nod, and I headed to the checkout, the line short. The cashier, a cute brunette with a nose ring, tapped at the register. I leaned in, flashing a smile. "That nose ring’s cool as hell," I said, keeping it light. "Suits you."
She smirked, handing me the receipt, her fingers brushing mine. "Thanks, smooth talker."
Good enough.
╭────────────────────╮
- Emotional Charisma (Locked)
==========================
- Have anal sex in your home (2/5)
- Flirt with a woman (1/1)
- Fuck Jasmine in the public (0/1)
╰────────────────────╯
The UI pinged—one flirt down. Nice. Thank you, Charm.
Kim tugged my arm, pointing at a dress shop, its window showcasing elegant gowns and casual sundresses. "Let’s check that out," she said, her excitement infectious. Inside, the store smelled faintly of lavender, racks lined with dresses in every color—velvet, silk, cotton. Kim’s eyes locked on a deep blue dress, sleeveless, with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flared at the hips. She ran her fingers over the fabric, her face lighting up. "This is gorgeous," she said, checking the tag. Her smile faded. "Fuck, it’s $200. No way."
"Come on, try it on," I said, nudging her. "Let’s see how it looks."
She hesitated but grabbed the dress and headed to the fitting room. When she stepped out, my jaw dropped. The blue hugged her curves, accentuating her waist, the skirt swishing as she turned, her short brown hair brushing her shoulders. She looked like she belonged on a red carpet, not in a mall.
"How is it?" she asked, smoothing the skirt, her voice uncertain.
"You’re fucking stunning," I said, stepping closer. "Like, holy shit, Kim. That dress was made for you."
She blushed, checking the tag again. "It’s too expensive, Evan. I can’t."
I grinned, leaning in, my voice low. "I’ve got the cash, thanks to some... creative budgeting. Let’s buy it. But there’s a condition—you wear this dress tonight for me."
Her face turned crimson, her eyes widening before she laughed, covering her mouth. "Oh my god, Evan, you’re ridiculous," she said, her smile playful. "Fine, deal. I’ll wear it for you."
"Nice," I said, winking, and we headed to the register. I handed over the cash, smug with my system credits. Kim clutched the bag, her embarrassment fading into excitement.
We wandered to a few more stores—Threadz for basics, a jewelry kiosk for cheap earrings, a makeup shop for mascara and lipstick. The bags piled up, my arms aching but my mood light. The mall’s buzz was fading, the crowd thinning as the afternoon wore on. I glanced at a coffee shop across the way, its sign glowing with "Brew Haven" in cursive neon, the smell of roasted beans cutting through the mall’s chaos.
"Let’s take a break," I said, nodding toward it. "I need a coffee, and you look like you could use one."
Kim sighed, relieved. "God, yes. My feet are killing me."
We headed over, the shop cozy with wooden tables, cushioned chairs, and a chalkboard menu scrawled with drink names. I ordered two iced lattes, the barista quick with the machine, the hiss of steam filling the air. Kim found a small table near the window, the mall’s atrium visible through the glass. We set our bags on the floor, a pile of paper and plastic crinkling under the table, and sat, the cold lattes sweating in our hands.
Kim sipped hers, her eyes closing briefly. "This is perfect," she said, leaning back, her t-shirt riding up slightly. "I haven’t felt this... normal in a while."
"Shopping does that," I said, smirking, taking a sip, the coffee bitter and sweet. "Or maybe it’s the company."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed. "You’re on a roll today."
"Gotta keep up with you," I said, leaning forward, my elbow on the table. "You’re practically glowing with all this new stuff."
She laughed, brushing her short brown hair back. "It’s nice to have things again. Tom took everything, but this... it’s like starting over." Her voice softened, her eyes on the latte. "Thanks for this, Evan. I mean it."
"Don’t mention it," I said, nudging her foot under the table. "Just don’t forget that dress tonight. I’m holding you to it."
"Oh, I won’t," she said, snorting, her smile playful. "You’ll get your fashion show."
Before I could respond, she kicked off one sneaker under the table, her knee-high black sock brushing my leg. Her foot slid up, landing on my crotch, the soft pressure sending a jolt through me. She started rubbing, slow and teasing, her toes curling against my jeans, my cock stirring instantly.
"Kim," I said, my voice low, caught off guard, my eyes flicking to the crowded shop. "What the fuck are you doing?"
She smirked, leaning forward, her elbow on the table, her latte in hand like nothing was happening. "Just having some fun," she said, her voice coy, her foot pressing harder, the friction making me grit my teeth. "Unzip it."
I glanced around—the tables were close, but ours was tucked in a corner, the high sides offering some cover. No one was looking, the baristas busy, the other customers lost in their phones or chatter. My heart pounded, the risk spiking my pulse. "You’re insane," I muttered, but my hands moved, unzipping my jeans under the table, my cock springing free, hard and aching.
Kim’s eyes glinted, and she kicked off her other sneaker, her second foot joining the first, both socks now working me, her toes stroking my shaft. The soft fabric slid over my dick, one foot circling the tip, the other pressing against the base, her movements slow but relentless.
"Like that?" she whispered, her smirk wicked, sipping her latte like we were just chatting.
"Fuck, Kim," I hissed, gripping the table’s edge, my knuckles white. "You’re gonna get us caught."
"Let’s see how quiet you can be," she teased, her feet moving faster, the socks warm and slightly rough, driving me wild. "Bet you’re loving this, huh? Getting a footjob in the middle of a fucking mall."
I checked around again—nobody noticed, the table’s sides shielding us, the mall’s noise drowning out my shallow breaths. A woman sat next to us, her short pink hair swaying as she checked her phone, and she was smirking for some reason. And a couple at the next table laughed over their phones, oblivious. "You’re a menace," I said, my voice strained, my hips twitching as her toes worked me harder. "Keep going, though."
She grinned, one stroking the length, the other teasing the head, the pressure building fast. "Gonna cum for me, Evan?" she murmured, her voice low, sultry. "Right here, where anyone could see?"
The danger, the fucking thrill of it, pushed me to the edge. My cock throbbed, the heat overwhelming. "Shit," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. "I’m close."
Her feet didn’t stop, her socks sliding faster, her toes curling just right. I checked one last time—still clear. Then it hit, my body tensing as I came, hard, my cum spilling out. Kim was quick, her feet shifting to catch it, her socks soaking up the mess, keeping it from hitting the floor. Her toes flexed, holding every drop, her smirk triumphant.
"Damn..." I muttered, my breath ragged, zipping up fast. "I’ll... grab some tissue."