Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Those blue eyes that flash are more than just interest. She’s a clever girl. A doer, a worker like me.
Her smooth, milky complexion is flushed red, but I can already picture the rest of her body and those curves cast in the same color.
My heart is thrashing against my ribs and my mouth is so dry I could hardly say a word if I wanted to, but seeing her trying to look busy and knocking a mannequin over makes me smile.
She’s a little clumsy maybe, or just as distracted as I am all of a sudden?
I don’t mind if it’s both.
Her hands are tiny, like her feet. And I watch as she rights the mannequin and locks up the store. Her boss looking embarrassed for her, murmuring something as he comes back over to me, but I’m not listening.
The whole store, the suit fitting and I hate to admit it, even my best friend’s wedding. They all disappeared in a single moment once I spotted her for the first time.
Something in me has shifted, and not just in my pants.
I dunno, maybe it’s all the wedding dresses and flowery shit everywhere, but I can see her in much more than just a white tee and jeans, even after I’ve undressed her in my mind a dozen times in a single moment.
My tailor mentions something about the jacket and shirt, stepping away for a moment, giving me just that little bit more time to take in all of her from behind and then the side as she slowly turns from locking up the store.
If only there was a way to get her alone.
A way it could be just the two of us in here…
She shivers visibly and I feel my jaw tighten as she studies my crotch again. I’m at full attention now, with a thick line of man meat running right up my zipper line.
Her eyes dart behind me, alarmed that her boss is coming back, but I don’t care if the whole world can see me right now.
My little show just now, it’s my signal to her. Staking my claim, and by her own wide-eyed look, her movements, and that strange electricity in the air between us, I know somehow that she’ll be mine.
Chapter Three
Ashlee
I somehow manage to recover myself and close up the shop after setting the mannequin back where it should be.
I’m dying of embarrassment inside, but my mystery man isn’t judging me. I can feel his amused look before I see it, and it’s a friendly one.
Laughing with me, not at me.
Mark reappears with a couple of suit jackets and shirts when his cell phone chimes.
We both know it’s Cynthia, and he mutters something to himself before setting the garments down and taking the call, walking into the back again, leaving just me and my new favorite thing ever in the store alone.
He’s not one to waste time with small talk or being shy like I am, no sir.
In three long strides, he’s over on the bridal side of the store, his gaze raking over me with that pleased look again.
“Brandon,” he announces, jutting his chin slightly as if it’s a lesson in something rather than his name.
I feel myself quivering inside and struggle not to sigh at the sound of his name coming from his lips.
Brandon.
Of course, it is.
It’s a perfect name for the perfect man.
I open my mouth to speak but only make an ‘O’ shape with it. A round hole where words should come out, but my eyes roam south spying something I know he’d rather put in their place.
He makes another low sound, not even shy I can see his arousal running the full length at the front of his work pants.
“Ashlee.” I finally manage, swallowing air as I feel myself flushing hotter and harder than ever in the presence of his huge body.
He makes the store look small just by standing in it, and I force myself to look up at his eyes, not meaning to stare at his crotch even though I can’t help it right now.
“Ashlee,” he repeats, pleased at the sound of my name. Making me feel wetter by the second when he says it in his deep voice.
“I do gowns. For brides,” I stammer, wondering how I became so stupid sounding in one sentence.
I’m trying to keep it professional, angling in my mind to keep any chit-chat on the wedding. On the task at hand, but Brandon’s eyes are moving over my body so intensely I can’t focus on anything else as my eyes ache to study him some more.
He moves his legs a little further apart, folding his massive forearms over his chest as he finishes sizing me up.
“You make them?” he asks, almost challenging me but it’s the one thing I could talk to anyone for days about.