‘I’m supposed to be selling shoes, not shagging my customers.’
‘You are selling shoes.’ She wriggled her toes in her boots. ‘See. And who says we have to fuck?’
He offered a wicked chuckle, then rolled with her, and when he was on top, he lifted her legs around his hips so that his still clothed erection raked between her still-pantied swell. ‘You’re absolutely right. We don’t have to fuck,’ he said, looking down at her with his ocean-changeable eyes. ‘I always try to satisfy my customers.’ Then he shifted his hips until his girth pressed her panties tightly into her heat, the fabric binding with a little hitch right against the swell of her clit as he ground and thrust.
She scrambled to meet him with her own thrust upward, and when she did so, when her hips were off the floor, he slipped both hands into the legs of her panties from behind and grabbed her bum cheeks in kneading fistfuls.
She dug her booted heels in just above the waist of his jeans for a better grip.
His whole body was tight, ridged, like it might shatter with the next thrust. The tighter his body became, the more liquid was hers, until she feared she would dissolve into nothing more than a tidal pool of quivering relief.
Each time he thrust she raised her legs a little higher, like she was climbing his body. Each time she raised her legs, his grip on her bottom became more possessive, more demanding. The friction was maddening down where clothing rubbed against clothing, and what was underneath felt the heat like flint and steel waiting for the spark. And when the spark came, it ignited a flash fire that left them both growling and straining like animals. The orgasm that started between her legs snaked up her spine and short-circuited her brain just before it slid down all the way to the tips of her toes in her soft leather boots. Then it curled itself around her like a warm embrace and finally settled between her hipbones like something smug, like something self-assured, like something completely at home there.
After that, it all happened at once. Her BlackBerry buzzed with a worried message from Vivie. Where was she? Was she all right? The phone on the counter rang and the clerk, with his jeans now wet, scrambled to answer it.
‘What do you mean Eleanor’s missing?’ He spoke in hushed tones while making an effort to straighten himself. ‘You know what night it is. You were supposed to keep an eye on her. You know how she is.’ His voice had become a hiss close to the receiver, though he forced an embarrassed smile in Jill’s direction, trying to make her feel more comfortable, no doubt.
But she didn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt rather delicious. She wasn’t sure why his obvious stress didn’t bother her. She wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt like the cat who just ate the cream. And she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t second-guessing what had just happened. Instead she offered him a seductive smile, blew him an even more seductive kiss, turned in her lovely new boots and walked out the door. She didn’t know why she ignored him when he slammed the phone down and called after her. And did she hear right? Did he actually call her Eleanor? How utterly strange.
Even though it wasn’t a long walk from Shoreditch High Street to her flat, she took a taxi. She was sitting in the back seat, still straightening and buttoning, when her BlackBerry buzzed again with another frantic message from Vivie. She texted back.
No worries, love! Had totally fab time, & the fun is just beginning.
J x
PS
Bought sexy new boots.
She giggled as she remembered she hadn’t paid for them. No probs. It would give her an excuse to see the yummy clerk again. And next time she would fuck him. Hard.
She signed the text E xx
Chapter 2
Jill returned to her flat feeling pretty chuffed with the events of the evening. Nice place, Kinky Boots. Really nice. And the bloke who ran it – hotter than hot. There was something else about him, something strangely familiar, almost like if they sat down together over a cuppa they’d discover that they’d always known each other. She smiled to herself at the thought. She really couldn’t imagine them getting through a whole cuppa together without her ripping his jeans off and shagging him senseless. Even with his clothes on, it hadn’t been hard to tell that he was very nicely equipped for the task. She looked down at her lovely new boots, boots she’d left without paying for. It was the perfect excuse for going back.
* * *
Under the circumstances, she figured she’d be too hyped to sleep, but she did so almost instantly.
And before long the room was awash in mist that floated and swirled around her bed. Had the weather turned while she was sleeping, bringing the fog? Had she forgotten to shut her window? A sudden gust of cool wind cleared the mist just enough for Jill to catch the first glimpse of the woman at the foot of her bed, pale and translucent, lit with way more silver light than even the full moon could provide.