GRADEN
We've been in this shop for a long ass time.
When the salesclerk, Leslie, joins me on the couch, I'm prepared for her to hit on me, despite her thinking I'm here with my girlfriend. Something about me seems to attract the kind of woman who doesn't care. But instead, Leslie pats my knee in a very nonsexual way. "I think Rebecca needs your advice."
"My advice? I don't know anything about lingerie. That's sort of your department."
"Maybe advice is the wrong word. I think she needs encouragement. She's feeling a little…well, she just needs her man in there for a minute to build her up. She looks amazing."
My whole body flushes hot at the thought of going back there and into her dressing room. "I'm not sure your other customers would appreciate some guy going back there."
"This is our dead time. I can make sure nobody bugs you for at least fifteen minutes, if you know what I mean?"
I pull the collar of my T-shirt away from my neck because it feels like it's choking me. It's been bad enough knowing she was back there naked and putting on all the sexy clothes. But I never expected I'd get to see her in those sexy clothes. And now Leslie thinks I should bang her in public, too. "She's, ah…too shy for that." But the things I could do to her in fifteen minutes in a dressing room if she really were mine.
Leslie shakes her head. "She needs you, Graden. Go to her. Make her feel good." She taps her watch. "Just try to keep the volume down."
I don't want to embarrass Rebecca by opting out of the boyfriend role and telling Leslie the truth. I knew Rebecca was feeling unsure of herself when we came in, which is why I pretended we were together in the first place. Backing out now, when I know she's feeling less than confident, according to Leslie, would do more damage, so I get up.
The walk to the dressing room feels like the Green Mile, and I'm already getting hard thinking what I might find in that room. I cough lightly and tap on the door. "Becks? Uh, Leslie sent me back here. You need anything?"
She opens the door and my heart stops.
So much skin. So much soft skin.
She pulls me in by my wrist and leans against the door after she closes it like she's blocking the world out. It makes the room feel more intimate knowing she wants me on this side of the door. With her and not with them on the outside.
She bites the corner of her lip and shrugs. "Leslie means well. She thinks we're really together, so…I didn't know how to tell her not to drag you back here. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry." There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be right now.
She gives me this impish smile, and I try to keep my eyes there, where she's quirking her lips, but holy fuck. The little lacy thing she's got on draws my eyes to her tits like neon arrows are pointing to them. "What do you call that? What you're wearing?" And can you wear it every day?
She does a little twirl. "It's a baby doll chemise. It's gorgeous, isn't it? I told her I was only buying underwear and bras today, but she practically forced me to try this on. Do you like it? I can't exactly wear it on a date underneath my clothes, so I'm thinking I'll have to save this outfit for after successful third dates, yeah? Fourth date outfit?"
I swallow back the words that would tell her the hell she's wearing it for another guy. It's sexy. More than sexy. Dirty but sweet as fuck. It's mostly sheer and black, but the cups around her tits are pink lace. And when she twirled, I noticed it was mostly backless below the bra strap. Like an apron showcasing a sweet little thong. Fuck—a sweet little black thong with a pink bow.
"It's pretty," I manage to say, instead of the things I want. And it strikes me as odd that she showed me the back. Normally, she's shyer. Is she putting on a confidence she doesn't feel? Fake it 'til you make it kind of thing? Or did she really want me to see her?
She's watching me very carefully. I can't fuck this up. I don't want her to believe that I don't think she's gorgeous and sexy—but I'm afraid I'll give myself away if I elaborate.
I'm not conveying the right things with my eyes, though. She gets this disappointed look on her face like I just kicked her dog. "I should have Leslie put it back. It's not for me. Thanks for being a good sport."
Oh, Jesus. She's blushing the prettiest shade of pink, and I can see how low it goes now that she's mostly unclothed. I find my voice, but it's deeper than usual. Like I swallowed gravel. "It would be a crime to put it back. That lingerie was made for you."
She's trying to read me. She looks vulnerable and hopeful at the same time. "Yeah?"
I nod and put my hands in my back pockets to keep them from reaching for her. Then I realize that my dick is pressing against my zipper, so I sit down to cover that fucker from her gaze. "Yeah."
She turns to face the mirror, and I have an excellent view of the back again. That luscious ass is killing me. I wouldn't even have to undress her all the way. I could take her against the mirror, press her tits against the glass, and shove the panties to the side while I stroke my cock in her tight heat.
Not doing myself any favors here.
"Leslie thinks we're in love," she says, snagging my gaze in the mirror. "She said we look great together."
"You'd look great with anyone, babe. You're beautiful."
I feel like she's upset. She doesn't actually wish we were together, does she?
No, man. She doesn't. I'm just thinking with my cock. Trying to justify the way I want her.
"So, I'll buy this for the guys who pass the third date then."
The guys? Plural?
She fingers the hem, causing me to think about yanking it off her. She's still got my gaze locked with hers like a tractor beam from Star Trek. I'm not sure I have the kind of strength required to disengage. "Remember, I'm looking for a guy just like you, so you're saying this would make you hot, right? If you came to the condo for a romantic dinner, and I answered the door in this, you'd want me?"
She's making plans to seduce someone just like me in front of me. In my damn house. Can this get any more fucked up?
"I'd more than want you, sweetheart. I'd be on my knees worshipping you."
She gets that impish smile back. "Oh, I like the sound of that."
She moves her hand up to the scalloped edge of the front over the lace that frames her tits. "Just think, the next time I wear this, I won't be a virgin anymore. It's weird to think about, isn't it? I mean, I may not even know the man yet who sees this next."
Our eyes meet in the mirror again. This time, I see something calculating in her gaze. She's testing me. She's fucking testing me. Like the twirl.
Does she have some sort of killer instinct? Talking about other men getting to see this when I won't? Talking about a fourth date with the guy who takes her cherry who isn't me.
I stand up and take a step so that I'm directly behind her, but not touching her. Just a breath of space between us. Her sugary scent teases me, but her eyes are locked with mine in the reflection. The tension weighs down on us like the air before a storm breaks.
From the corner of my eye, I can see her chest moving rapidly, like she's breathing fast and shallow.
"You're perfect," I tell her. She starts to disagree, but I splay my hand over her soft abdomen and yank her against me, letting her feel how hard she's made me. She gasps. "Don't argue with me. When a man like me compliments you, you say 'thank you.'"
Her eyes go wide at my tone, but she whispers, "Thank you."
Yes. The beast inside likes the way she took to his dominant words.
And that's it. I'm fucking tired of fighting this. Fighting her. Fighting fate. Her whisper of submission just sealed her destiny to mine.
But I'll play her little game, if she wants.
"You really want to learn how to seduce a real man, baby?" My fingers flex and curl over the soft material covering her stomach. "You want me to teach you, teacher?"
She nods shyly, our gazes still locked in the mirror.
"You need to tell me then. Tell me what you want. I want to hear the words on your lips."
"I want—" she starts, but has to clear her throat. "I want you to teach me how to seduce a man like you, Graden. I want to know how to get a guy like you into my bed. How to keep him there." She might be shy, but I don't know if my assessment that she's naïve was right. It seems like she knows what buttons to push on me. "I want you to help me lose my virginity."
Her words are revving the engine inside me, getting me ready to take my foot off the brake and do what I've been dreaming of since I moved in with my sexy roommate. Her body is tempting me, all that sweet flesh begging to be marked by my callused hands, my stubble, my come. But it's her eyes that make me craziest right now. I could get lost forever in them. They're full of wonder and a little bit of fear.
I like that. Maybe I'm a dick for getting off on that. But I like that honeyed fear in her expression a little too much. I spent so many years protecting her, never knowing I'd be the biggest danger she faced.
She's trembling against me, sending little sparks up and down my body wherever we touch. She makes me burn so good, so hot.
I brush her hair off her neck and rest my chin on her shoulder, my other hand stroking down her arm leaving a trail of goose bumps wherever it sweeps across her skin. "If we do this, no more of this mall shit."
"Do what?" she asks.
"I'm going to teach you everything you need to break a man, sweetheart."
She arches her neck a bit, and I can't tell if it's a subconscious move or if she knows she's driving me crazy. But I can't resist and lick her skin. Her body tightens then goes slack, like I've turned her bones into Jell-O with the touch of my tongue.
I can't pull back the groan as it escapes my throat.
"I don't want to break a man, Graden. I want to marry one."
I swear I start leaking pre-come when she says that. Fuck. I should leave her alone. She wants a husband. A fucking groom. And the very thought should have me running back to the safety of an oil rig. But instead, it sets off a primal drumbeat in my heart that echoes through my whole body.
Marry. Husband. Groom. The words should be a mood killer to a man with no intention of ever getting shackled, but instead, I see an image of her in yards of white lace, and I want to fuck her more than I want to breathe.
"Break him first. Then you can do whatever the hell you want to him, and he won't fucking care."
She's got this serious look on her face, like she doesn't think she has the power. Like she doesn't have me wanting to tear out of my own skin because it's so tight on me. Constricting.
"What do I do first?" she asks.
"Look at yourself in the mirror. What do you see?"
She shrugs. "A girl in a pretty nightie."
No. That won't do. "That nightie is pretty because it's on you. Look at you." I run my hand from her shoulder to her wrist slowly, enjoying the silky slide of her skin under my palm. "Your skin is amazing. So soft. Lush."
"There's too much of it."
I grasp her arms roughly and pull her into me hard, my erection poking her, showing her with my body what is difficult for me to say. "The right guy won't be able to get enough. Look again." Her eyes take in the whole picture in the mirror. I can't hide my predatory gaze or the lead pipe in her back. "You're a fantasy. No man is worth your time. The one you give it to will be the luckiest man in the world."
It's going too far. Getting too close. There's no way she won't see everything I want to hide.
We hear voices getting closer, and I realize our fifteen minutes are nearly up.
She leans back further into me. "I promise I'll do whatever you say if you teach me how to seduce you."
"A man like me, you mean."
That blush paints her face and chest a beautiful pink. "Of course. A man like you."
I spin her around, holding her by the shoulders as she jerks her chin up. My mouth is about to go crashing into hers. I'm already anticipating the sweet flavors of her lips. I bend down, a trace of air between our mouths.
"Graden? Rebecca? My coworker's lunch is over, and the store is getting busy." Leslie's warning pierces the lusty thoughts I'm having, and I set Rebecca a foot away from me.
Rebecca stares at me for a second before answering Leslie. "Okay, thanks. We're…just about done. I'll send Graden out first."
The beast inside roars his displeasure, but it's for the best. I need to help her move on because I am not the kind of man she needs. She wants a groom. A husband. A life.
All I can offer her is a lot of going nowhere at top speed.