LITMIR.BIZ

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square neckline and a lace hem.

      I stepped into it, being careful not to snag the heel of my shoe on the stitching. And trying very hard not to fall over. That would totally not be sexy. I fluffed the skirt and twirled once in the mirror. My gut was currently in my throat and my pulse a wild untamed thing that made my head ache with its rhythm.

      I pushed the curtain back and walked as slowly as I could. Forcing myself to breathe. Forcing myself to exude sex. Not that I really felt I needed to. There had been this lightning strike of attraction between us from the get-go. The sight of him in my chair only solidified it – legs splayed, hand resting on his fly where a very real, very obvious erection pushed against the black fabric of his trousers.

      ‘I like it,’ he said, motioning me forward. His hand found the back of my knee as if he’d touched me a million times before. My body responded as if he had.

      I puffed out air softly, almost like I was trying to shout but had no voice, when he slid his hand high up the back of my leg, beneath the virginal floaty skirt of the tea dress. He cupped that tight muscle along the back of my thigh that got taut and sore when I ran too many times in a week. And then he was holding my ass cheek in his big hand, giving it tiny little squeezes that made my juices flow more aggressively.

      ‘You have the ass of a thoroughbred,’ he told me.

      ‘Is that a compliment?’

      He squeezed again and then his hand meandered around my hipbone to my front. He was suddenly – blissfully – palming my mound now. ‘Does it feel like a compliment?’

      ‘God, yes,’ I wheezed.

      Mack gave a single nod of his giant head and very nonchalantly parted my nether lips with his thick fingers. Instantly, he located the tight bud of my clitoris, now screaming with want and blood, and stroked me there. My knees shook, threatening to dump me on my ass, but I tightened my muscles and forced myself to breathe.

      ‘You’re slick. In green. Wet like the ocean. Green like sea water, green like grass. Wet and slick and all in green.’ He chuckled out his nonsense sentences and then pushed a broad finger into me.

      A bubble of laughter burst out of me. It felt good. Too good. And what was I doing? I had never done this before in my store. But then again, I’d never ever felt any on-the-spot lust close to this before. Not this consuming.

      He fucked me with his broad fingers, never pulling those dark eyes away. ‘Good?’

      I could only nod. Steadying myself with one hand on his broad shoulder. Under the cloth he was warm and sturdy and I imagined I could feel his heartbeat, a wild current running up into my fingers and travelling up my arm.

      ‘I have a pink one,’ I managed. My tongue was too big for my mouth, my heartbeat too loud to hear above.

      ‘Do you now?’

      Another nod from me and Mack caught my wrist in his hand and pulled me so I bent over him. He peeked down the front of my modest square neckline and then pushed my hand over the hard ridge of his cock. He was long and thick and held at bay by nothing more than a pair of grey slacks and whatever he was sporting underneath.

      His big hand crushed my much smaller one around his erection and he thrust up hard and fast – just enough to show me what it would be like were he thrusting into me.

      ‘This girl –’ I started, cocking an eyebrow at him. Forcing myself to meet his gaze.

      ‘Is just a girl. Not a girlfriend, not a fiancée, not a wife. Just a girl. Now go put the other one on.’

      I believed him and I hurried off on my taupe high heels, feeling like the devil was on my tail, prompting me to sin. I loved it.

      The pink dress had a ruched bodice that cinched me up and showed off my tits. It gave the illusion of a wasp waist from the way it flared out. A very unsubtle sweep of cotton-candy-pink fabric. Along the hem on the left side was a series of small hearts stitched in silver thread. It was the only adornment. Which is why I liked the pink one the best, though I normally loathed pink.

      But this pink made me think of lips and tongues, kisses and fucking, soft wet things and orgasms. Or that could just be the way my mind was working right about now.

      ‘Are you coming?’ He chuckled.

      ‘Not yet, but soon,’ I murmured under my breath.

      I hurried out, the curtain of the dressing room billowing behind me. I passed the front door and watched a parade of people on their lunch break stroll past. One woman headed to my door and my heart skipped a beat, but then she caught sight of the CLOSED sign and kept going.

      ‘Come on, cupcake,’ Mack growled and the fine hairs on my neck rose and tingled.

      ‘Coming,’ I breathed and hurried on. With a grand flourish, I stepped behind the counter and curtseyed.

      He had his cock out. In hand. It didn’t even faze me. It seemed most logical, because we were going to fuck, after all. That was a no-brainer. Seeing him handling himself that way, stroking his hard-on with his huge hand, had a storm of emotions roiling in my gut. Excitement, fear, lust, want, anxiety. It was a heady mélange of feelings that left me breathless and weak-kneed.

      ‘Come on,’ he said.

      So I went, forcing my stunned body to move towards him. I stood close enough that he barely had to reach out to touch me, and watched him – mesmerised by the motion of it – handle his cock.

      ‘Kneel for me, Gretch,’ he said, using his instantaneous nickname for me.

      I dropped to my knees, licking my lips. Quite often my eager show of need to suck cock was simply a ploy to turn my partner on. Not now. Not this time. This time I truly wanted to suck his cock. Wanted to feel the hard velvety tip of him slide along my lips like I was applying gloss. I wanted to taste that first salty drop of pre-come and swirl my tongue around the impudent helmeted tip of him. I wanted it all so much that I was already leaning in to do all of that and more.

      Mack moved back just a bit and laughed. ‘Look at you. Just gagging for it. Hold on.’

      Then he wrapped his hand in my hair, forming a tether, and yanked so my head went back and my eyes went to his. ‘Just so we’re on the same page. You’re going to suck my cock.’

      I tried to nod, forgetting his grip.

      ‘And then I’m going to do whatever I want.’

      Again I tried to nod. Short memory and all that. He smiled at me. The hard lines of his rugged face softening for a moment. When I smiled back, he pushed my head forwards steadily but not hard enough to hurt me.

      My mouth came down, lipsticked and desperate on the soap-scented skin of his cock. I trailed my tongue over the small drop of fluid at the tip, collecting it. When I sucked the head of his erection into the heat of my mouth, he made a noise in his throat. Forcing myself as low as I could go, I ate him up inch by inch until my lips almost touched the base of his erection. His pubic hair tickling at my nose. This close to his skin he smelled like the ocean and cold air. It was a good smell and I inhaled greedily both to steady my beating heart and take the scent of him into myself.

      ‘Good, good,’ he said. Almost like he was talking to himself.

      His hand in my hair allowed me to turn my head just enough so that I could sweep my open mouth up one side of his length and down the other, my open-mouthed kiss making his skin wet as I dragged my lips. I felt his fingers tighten in my hair, saw his muscles bunch as he tensed in my chair.

      ‘Stand up, Gretch.’

      But I chased him with my mouth instead, managing to snake my tongue out over him to taste him one more time. He gripped my hair tight and pulled my head back. With a short push, he moved me back and rose at the same time. Big hands curled to my dress-cinched waist and lifted me gently onto a short table behind the counter. It was where I folded clothing. The antique wooden table was small – the perfect size – taller than my chair but shorter than the glass

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