EXCERPT TWO:
“Hi
there, handsome.”
“Well,
hello, love.”
“You
know,” I say as I lock the door behind him, then walk to my counter to close
out the till and get ready to leave. “I’ve discovered that since you’ve been
here, you’re very bad for my productivity.”
“How
is that?” He leans on the counter and braces his chin on his fist, watching me.
“I’m
closing the shop early, for one.”
“I do
believe the sign in the window says you close at six.” He checks his watch.
“And look at that, it’s six.”
“I
haven’t actually closed at six since…well, I don’t remember. I usually chat
with customers, redesign displays, shop for new stock. But most of that has
been set aside because I seem to be spending most of my time with a certain
sexy Brit. It’s a good thing you’re cute.”
He
raises a brow and stands to full height, taking my breath away. His ink is on
display again in a simple black T-shirt, stretched over wide, muscular
shoulders.
Where
did my knees go again?
“Cute,
am I?”
His
accent gets even thicker when he’s turned on, and it’s on full blast now.
“Adorable.”
He
slowly circles around the counter and leans into me, pinning my hips against
it. His lips are inches from mine.
“I
don’t think a man is supposed to be cute.”
“No?”
Oh, God, I can’t breathe right when he’s this close to me. His hands are on my
hips now, his fingers under the hem of my blouse, and then gliding up my skin
and over my bra to cup my breasts.
“We
shouldn’t do this here.” Is that my voice? I sound breathy and turned on, which
is pretty accurate.
“No
one is here,” he says and brushes feather-soft kisses over my cheek to my ear.
My body is one giant shiver. Thank God for the giant display I built today that
blocks us from outside traffic.
As if
by their own volition, my hands make their way down the back of his jeans to
cup his very fine ass just as he nips my neck, making me gasp.
“How cute am I now?” he whispers, never
taking his lips from my skin.
“You’re
just precious,” I reply, hearing my own accent thicken along with his cock
pressed to my belly.
“You
make me laugh,” he says, smiling against my neck. “You make me so hard it
hurts. And I’m grateful that you’re wearing a skirt.”
“Why
is that?”
He
reaches down and balls the material in his fists, raising it above my waist.
“You’re
not wearing panties,” he says with surprise, his blue eyes pinned to mine.
“Not
today.”
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