with a row of hooks and eyes down the front and was held together by laces along the back. The satin glimmered. It would push Josie’s pert breasts high, show them off to advantage.
He figured his hands could damn near span her waist so he chose the smallest size. She was tall but lithe. “And the stockings in the window?”
The saleslady opened a drawer in a grouping of three five-foot bureaus lining the wall. “How tall is your lady friend?”
He tapped his hand to his nose. “About here.”
She perused a chart on the package, then drew another pair from the drawer. “I think this will be appropriate. But if not, you can exchange them.”
He wouldn’t have to. He’d get Josie to model them when she arrived.
The shop’s door opened, and a bell tinkled. He hadn’t noticed the sound when he entered, nor did he have to turn now to know it was her. He recognized her scent. Sweet, flowers. And hot, aroused woman. She’d been fantasizing on the drive over.
He felt the cool slide of her fingers lacing with his. “Hi, honey.”
Her breath on his neck trickled along his nerve endings. “Yeah, baby, I was picking out some things for you to try on.”
Her eyes widened at the endearment, then sparkled, and her mouth curved with more than a hint of laughter. Unaccountably, that near smile made him hot. Her lipstick was pink, her cheeks and eyes dusted with makeup, and she had on another of her pant-suits like she’d worn at their first meeting. The tailoring fit her curves, yet the lines were almost manly, as if she was trying to hide that she was a woman working a man’s job.
She would look all woman in the silver satin. He glanced at the saleslady. “I think we need some black panties to match the stockings.” Then he glanced down at Josie. “Or do you want to skip the panties, baby?”
“Oh no,” she said, her lips again flirting with that almost smile, “we definitely need panties.” She pointed to the rack he stood by. “I want those.”
She held one up by the hanger for him to see.
Nothing more than a triangle of sheer black fabric, silky to his touch; the thong looked as if it were held together by string. What was the point in wearing it at all?
Except to drive a man mad.
“Our dressing rooms are in the back.” Their clerk led the way, then pushed aside a long curtain disguising a surprisingly large dressing area. She turned to Josie. “When trying on the panties, please do be sure to keep your own in place.”
“Of course,” Josie said, then grabbed Kyle’s hand. “Come on, honey, I want to model them for you.”
She wanted him to go in there with her? Kyle glanced at the saleslady. She simply smiled. “Call out and let me know if you need another size.”
The mirrored walls reflected them all as the woman hung the bustier and thong on two of several hooks and laid the stockings on a small glass table next to a gold padded chair. Then she closed the curtain behind them.
Kyle moved to the chair.
“Not so fast, buddy boy.” In the mirror’s reflection, Josie jutted one hip, and arched a brow. “I sit.” She lowered her voice. “You strip.”
So that was her plan. He wondered how far the salesclerk had gone. Before he let Josie sit, he crowded up against her back, letting her feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his cock. He liked the picture in the mirror, how petite she seemed in front of him, the smile playing on her lips. He breathed her in, parting the hair at her nape to reveal the creamy, sexy skin beneath. He wanted, needed a taste. Holding her still, he licked her right there, then blew warm air.
She shivered against him, and when he raised his gaze to hers in the mirror, her green eyes had turned the color of a queen’s emeralds.
“Stop that,” she whispered, then turned and lightly pushed him out of her way.
Josie sat and leaned back in the gold chair, crossing her legs, her shoe swinging. Fluttering her fingers, she reasserted control. Or so she
He figured his hands could damn near span her waist so he chose the smallest size. She was tall but lithe. “And the stockings in the window?”
The saleslady opened a drawer in a grouping of three five-foot bureaus lining the wall. “How tall is your lady friend?”
He tapped his hand to his nose. “About here.”
She perused a chart on the package, then drew another pair from the drawer. “I think this will be appropriate. But if not, you can exchange them.”
He wouldn’t have to. He’d get Josie to model them when she arrived.
The shop’s door opened, and a bell tinkled. He hadn’t noticed the sound when he entered, nor did he have to turn now to know it was her. He recognized her scent. Sweet, flowers. And hot, aroused woman. She’d been fantasizing on the drive over.
He felt the cool slide of her fingers lacing with his. “Hi, honey.”
Her breath on his neck trickled along his nerve endings. “Yeah, baby, I was picking out some things for you to try on.”
Her eyes widened at the endearment, then sparkled, and her mouth curved with more than a hint of laughter. Unaccountably, that near smile made him hot. Her lipstick was pink, her cheeks and eyes dusted with makeup, and she had on another of her pant-suits like she’d worn at their first meeting. The tailoring fit her curves, yet the lines were almost manly, as if she was trying to hide that she was a woman working a man’s job.
She would look all woman in the silver satin. He glanced at the saleslady. “I think we need some black panties to match the stockings.” Then he glanced down at Josie. “Or do you want to skip the panties, baby?”
“Oh no,” she said, her lips again flirting with that almost smile, “we definitely need panties.” She pointed to the rack he stood by. “I want those.”
She held one up by the hanger for him to see.
Nothing more than a triangle of sheer black fabric, silky to his touch; the thong looked as if it were held together by string. What was the point in wearing it at all?
Except to drive a man mad.
“Our dressing rooms are in the back.” Their clerk led the way, then pushed aside a long curtain disguising a surprisingly large dressing area. She turned to Josie. “When trying on the panties, please do be sure to keep your own in place.”
“Of course,” Josie said, then grabbed Kyle’s hand. “Come on, honey, I want to model them for you.”
She wanted him to go in there with her? Kyle glanced at the saleslady. She simply smiled. “Call out and let me know if you need another size.”
The mirrored walls reflected them all as the woman hung the bustier and thong on two of several hooks and laid the stockings on a small glass table next to a gold padded chair. Then she closed the curtain behind them.
Kyle moved to the chair.
“Not so fast, buddy boy.” In the mirror’s reflection, Josie jutted one hip, and arched a brow. “I sit.” She lowered her voice. “You strip.”
So that was her plan. He wondered how far the salesclerk had gone. Before he let Josie sit, he crowded up against her back, letting her feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his cock. He liked the picture in the mirror, how petite she seemed in front of him, the smile playing on her lips. He breathed her in, parting the hair at her nape to reveal the creamy, sexy skin beneath. He wanted, needed a taste. Holding her still, he licked her right there, then blew warm air.
She shivered against him, and when he raised his gaze to hers in the mirror, her green eyes had turned the color of a queen’s emeralds.
“Stop that,” she whispered, then turned and lightly pushed him out of her way.
Josie sat and leaned back in the gold chair, crossing her legs, her shoe swinging. Fluttering her fingers, she reasserted control. Or so she
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