“We need a few suits for her.”
Finally, Carrie found her tongue. “Two suits,
black and silver and two blouses, white and black please.”
Biting back the urge to smile, Rafael shook his
head. “Four suits, the black and silver she mentioned, another in blue, and the
other in tan. Five blouses to change out with the suits as well.”
The saleswoman smiled at him, she knew who was
in charge and who would be paying. She wasn’t going to let it stop at two. “Of
course, sir. We do have several suits that will fit your request. A size
fourteen, I believe. We have a nice selection, are you looking for skirt suits
as well as a pant suit?”
“The skirt would need to go to her knees,
nothing shorter than that.” Rafael didn’t like the idea of her in a short skirt,
with men looking at her all day. What the fuck was the matter with him? How a
woman dressed had never bothered him in the past, although he found deep
cleavage and extremely short skirts distasteful. Yet, the idea of Carrie’s body
on display in the slightest way made him want to put her in a caftan.
“This way, miss, let’s get you settled into a
dressing room. I’ll bring them through for you to try on.”
Rafael checked the time, he was behind schedule.
He hated running late. His schedule was important to him and his day was
planned well in advance. Running late or a change in his schedule usually made
him extremely cranky, now he simply shrugged. Carrie needed new clothes, what
she needed she would get. Pulling out his phone, he called his secretary to let
her know he was now likely going to be an hour behind his schedule. She might
as well cancel every meeting he had on his calendar for the day. He’d been
practically worthless yesterday, only his anger at Benny kept him focused. That
was after only spending a few hours with Carrie, she would be taking up half of
his day today. He was almost positive he wouldn’t get a damned thing done once
he left her.
The clicking of her heels had him turning to
look at her. She had a hand on her hip and she was taunting him. The skirt was
so tight he wondered how she walked in it. It only went to mid-thigh, if she
bent over it would be indecent. The cock-swelling curve of her ass already made
the skirt a threat to a man’s good sense. How did a woman as short as she have
legs so perfect they made a man want them wrapped around his waist? Her expression
was one of boredom. She really didn’t seem to know she was playing with fire.
His eyes went to the saleswoman; she took the hint and went into the back.
“Carrie, you heard me say the skirt would have
to go the knee. Yet, you chose to flaunt a very short skirt at me.” Walking
toward her slowly, he kept his voice low. His hand went around the wrist she
had at her hip and pulled her until she was only inches from him. He could hear
her breath catch. “You know you are a beautiful woman, you could wear a nun’s
habit and a man would dream of tearing it from you to find out what was beneath
it. Wearing a skirt so short shows a man exactly what is available to him and
entices him to touch the skin on show. Are you offering yourself up to my
touch, mi dulce? Hmm, do you want my hands to stroke the lovely skin you are
showing me? Will that be all I am allowed to touch, or will you allow me to go
higher? Do you want me to go higher, is that what you are telling me? The skirt
is tight enough your gorgeous ass begs for attention. If attention is what you
are wanting, mi dulce, I will give you all my attention, until you beg me to
stop. Is that what you want?” He whispered the words in her ear, she shivered
and swayed toward him. An all too brief brush of her soft breasts against his
chest had him hard as a fucking rock.
Still holding onto a small part of sanity, he
dropped her wrist, her beautiful eyes were hungry and scared. Saving them both,
she turned and fled.
No comments:
Post a Comment